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Had she meant that, or was it just fodder for the cameras?
“You and half the women in the F1 paddock,” the journalist laughed. Georgia kept a tight smile on her face, and I could tell he was less than impressed at that comment.
“So tell me, on the weekends you have off, how do you manage your time together? I know a lot of time is spent at the factories for the both of you.”
“It’s tough, for sure. As you’ll hear through several interviews, being away from your loved ones for so many weeks is tough. Most spouses and girlfriends can’t go to every race. For us, it’s almost the opposite because we see each other more on race weekends than off weeks, but we do our best to make time for each other even if we aren’t at a race,” I answered, the answer feeling completely genuine. It was tough to be away from family, and I was fortunate that my father and mother could travel to most of the races.
“I agree. I think it’s also easier because we’re both in Formula 1. We’re both drivers who are dedicated to winning the championship, but it also means we understand the hardships that come with being a driver. When I have a bad day, Luca understands what I am going through. He gets the emotional rollercoaster because we’re on the same ride. There are such extreme highs and lows, and it’s meaningful to have someone who is also in your shoes. There’s only twenty-two of us, so to date someone who gets what you’re going through, it’s been special.”
I couldn’t help but turn to Georgia and smile at her. Even if we weren’t actually dating, being able to talk to Georgia about my relationship with the car and Hermes' bad strategy calls over the last several weeks was a relief.
“That’s an interesting perspective, thank you. Now, Georgia, if you don’t mind me asking, how do you get along with the other F1 girlfriends or wives? So far, none of the other partners of the current drivers work in Formula 1, but I know you all often hang out after the races.”
“I get along fine with many of them. Lauren, Edward’s girlfriend, and I are good friends, which has been lovely. I’ve been sneaking her Valkyrie shirts, much to Edward’s dismay. I might be a fellow driver, but all of the partners treat me asme,and it’s nice. We often just sit around, drink wine, and talk about how silly our boys can be. Really, it’s a lot more mundane than you think it to be. We’re no different than other women in our twenties.”
I took a moment to reflect on Georgia’s answer. I hadn’t considered if it would be different hanging out with the other wives and girlfriends because she was a driver, but I was glad to hear that, in fact, it was easy. It made sense; we’d all gone karting together, we’d all grown up together, so we were friends, and our significant others were just a natural extension of our friend group.
“Well, this has been truly great. You two are a ball of fun. Anything else you’d like to add?”
“Yes, actually, since I have you all here with a camera crew and photographers, I was hoping I could borrow the spotlight for a moment?”
The journalist looked perplexed at my question but motioned for me to go on. I could see both Lizzie and Matteo looking nervous in the back, Matteo slightly shaking his head, telling me to abandon whatever plan I had. But I ignored their silent pleas. I turned to Georgia and grabbed both of her hands in mine. She gave me a questioning look, clearly trying to guess what was about to happen.
“Georgia Dubois,” I began, “getting to know you over the last several years, it’s been a dream come true. You are truly my better half. There’s no doubt about that. So, for the final question of this interview, I have only one thing to ask.” I paused for a moment and got down on one knee.
I could already see panic starting to spread on Georgia’s face. I pulled out a small velvet box and pointed the opening to her. I could see her eyes saying, ‘Get the fuck up, Luca,’but I continued. She shifted nervously in her seat, the wheels in her head turning, trying to determine what kind of answer she was going to say to the question she assumed I was going to ask.
“Will you make us another round of coffee this afternoon?” I said with a cheesy grin, opening the ring box to display coffee grinds that were now pouring out of the velvet box and onto the floor.
At first, the room was quiet, still processing what had just unfolded in front of them, although after another second, I saw a huge smile spread across Georgia’s face, and she erupted into laughter.
“LucafuckingRossi, if you think I’m going to make coffee with poorly ground coffee like this, you’re out of your mind!” The group burst into laughter. I turned to face Henri, who had a look of death in his eyes, even though he was laughing with the rest. I gave Georgia a cheeky smile and got up off of the floor, dusting some of the coffee beans off my lap. Georgia gave me a playful punch in the stomach as she also stood up.
“You see what I have to put up with?” she quipped to the BBC presenter. Still smiling, we both shook the interviewer’s hand before walking over to Lizzie, Matteo, and her brothers, who were waiting for us at the entrance.
“Pull something like that again, Rossi, and I’ll murder you myself,” was all Lizzie retorted as she let out a big huff. Georgia turned to me and winked, giving me a peck on the lips before following Lizzie out of the room.
Before Georgia exited, she turned back around and called out, “I will get you back for that one, Rossi!”
I had no doubt that she would, and I very much looked forward to it.
* * *
Georgia
The BBC interview had gone much better expected. After our talk with Isabelle on Thursday, Friday and Saturday had been incredibly easy for me and Luca. Something felt different between us, like the lines betweenfakedating andactuallydating were starting blur. When we were at the track and had free time, we were in each other’s garages, laughing away. When we were back at the hotel, we sat in the living room, aimlessly going through notes from our race engineers or chatting about the cars.
I continued to tell myself that in order to really sell this, it made sense that I was spending more nights in Luca's bed rather than my own. And itdefinitelymade sense that we spent every dinner together laughing and chatting away with my brothers, right? A small part of me felt alarmed that I was starting to feel this comfortable with Luca, but I told that part of me to piss off.
I was enjoying myself, and I deserved to be happy.
As Sunday rolled around, Luca and I walked hand in hand into the paddock. I was sporting my special edition Silverstone polo. Maison de Klotho had made the entire team new polos for the Grand Prix. Lily and I had been gifted adorable athletic skirts to match. We looked a bit like tennis stars, in my opinion, but our representative at Maison de Klotho claimed it was all the rage these days.
As we reached the Valkyrie garage, Luca gave me a kiss on the lips and said his goodbyes, waving to Lily on his way out. We had barely had any time to discuss my BBC interview, and I knew Lily was dying to hear about how it went. I motioned for her to follow me into my driver’s room, and she promptly sat on my couch, making herself quite at home.
“So… how did it go!? I can’t believe they wouldn’t let me attend, so annoying!” Lily sounded like a little child who had been told they had to go to bed early.
“It went well. They asked some good questions and some probing questions.”
