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Luca and I had already eaten at the hotel, mostly to help sober me up, but we picked at the food to be polite. As the dinner service ended, Luca asked if I was interested in heading to the bar, which of course I was. I probably had one more drink before I would be improperly sloshed, not just ‘race winner sloshed’as Oliver put it so politely.
As we passed the Wilmington table, my heart sank. There was Anthony, sat next to the Wilmington F1 leadership team, chatting away about Indy Car and his recent success – well, success was an understatement. He had one win under him, not exactly championship-winning material. When Anthony saw Luca and I walk over to the bar, he got up from the Wilmington table and made his way over to us.
“Good grief,” I heard Luca whisper under his breath. “Can this guy not take a hint?” Luca pulled me closer to him as Anthony walked up to the two of us, the smugness on his face was hard to ignore.
“Nice to see the two of you are still throwing this farce around the paddock.”
“Oh, shut up, Anthony,” I bit back, not caring if anyone heard.
“Sorry, Love, just call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Anthony drawled in his most southern accent. He took a moment to observe us, letting his eyes rake over my body, and I felt sick.
“Might want to keep your eyes to yourself,” I heard a familiar voice chime in. I turned to see Oliver approach the bar, empty glass in hand. “Luca once threatened to crash my car if I asked Georgia out on a date. Be a shame to see all that Texan oil money splattered about the track. There’s enough oil on it as is.” I chuckled at Oliver – always one to get in a cheap joke, and I was here for it.
“Well, when I have your F1 seat at Wilmington, Oliver, Luca will have to be fast enough to catch me.” The three of us F1 drivers immediately burst out laughing, and I could see Anthony’s face turn red with anger. I knew it was unwise to poke the bear, but the thought of him ever being better than Luca was too hilarious of a joke to pass up.
“The Wilmington F1 Team will give you a seat when hell freezes over,” Luca quipped, handing me and Oliver our glasses of champagne. Something about Luca's comment gave me pause.
I’d heard that one before.
When we made it back to the table, Henri moved a seat over, whispering in my ear, “What did he want?”
“Oh, the usual, to be a pain in my ass.”
“You know, as far as boyfriends go, I think Luca might be my favorite.” I gave Henri a pointed look, questioning if that wasactuallytrue, and then a look to remind him that this was a fake relationship. Henri just ignored me, turning back to Noah and his girlfriend, rejoining their conversation.
“You ready to go, Cara? It’s getting late, and we have a flight back tomorrow.” I nodded my head, informing Luca that I just needed to go say goodbye to the British drivers seated at the top, and then I would be ready to head back. I had no doubt that Luca had another round of fun planned for us back at the hotel.
* * *
I woke up the next morning to the buzzing of my phone on the bedside table next to me. As the phone kept ringing, I heard a groan from behind me.
“Don’t answer it,” Luca begged, pulling my back closer to him as he continued to spoon me.
“It’s Lizzie… I have to answer it.”
“What can she possibly want? Your flight isn’t until this afternoon. Tell her to leave us alone.”
I chuckled at Luca's insistence and grabbed my phone. As the phone stopped ringing, I saw a smile form on Luca's face, which was immediately dropped as Lizzie started to call again.
“It must be important if she keeps calling.” I answered the call before Luca could continue to protest, pulling myself out of his grasp so I could sit up.
“Good morning, Lizzie… do you know that it’s 8 a.m. after a race win?” I joked to my media manager as Luca tried to pull me back down into his embrace.
“Georgia, we’ve just been told that a story is about to break in the Daily Report. Fortunately, I went to university with one of their sports journalists, so she called this morning to give me a quick heads-up. It drops in a few minutes. Can you go get Luca?”
I could feel my heartbeat quickening as I immediately put the phone on speakerphone.
“He… he’s here,” I said weakly.
“The Daily Report claims they have a source that says your relationship is fake, a PR stunt, and they’re printing an article on it.”
“That’s bullshit!” I yelled into the phone. Luca immediately sat up, his attention now fixated on his phone as I heard it start to ping, likely with texts from Matteo.
“We don’t know who the source is yet, but we’re working hard to find out. Until then, I need you and Luca to stay out of the spotlight and let the PR crisis manager we’ve just retained handle this. Is that understood?”
“Ye… yes.”
“I’ll be in touch with how we’ll respond, hopefully by the end of the day. With any luck, it’ll be a nonsense story that’ll blow over after the race next week.” I just nodded at my phone, unable to form words as Lizzie said her goodbyes and hung up. Luca was now furiously texting with Matteo. As he looked up at me, his eyes immediately went wide with sorrow, and Luca pulled me into him as tears started to flood my face.
