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“I severely doubt that,” I scoffed. Henri might have been trying to make me feel better, but this wasn’t a battle I planned on letting him win. Henri rolled his eyes, but he knew when to quit.
“Regardless, I’ll be there for drinks tomorrow, as will Edward. It’ll be fun. We haven’t hung the three of us in a while.”
“Except it won’t bejustthe three of us. Luca will be there,” I said pointedly.
“Well then, it’s a good thing Luca and Edward get along so well, then, isn’t it?” Henri retorted, his face telling me that I wasn’t going to winthissmall argument.
Instead of continuing with the argument, we opted to discuss the various silly events that our teams had ready for us. Both Hermes and Valkyrie had little challenges, photoshoots, and meet and greets scheduled throughout the day. Sometimes, I wondered if the press days before the race were more challenging than the race itself.
* * *
At 4 p.m., I looked at my watch, letting out an exasperated sigh that caught the attention of Lizzie, who only gave me a sympathetic look in response. Maybe it was because I was dreading the date night I was about to have with Luca, or perhaps I was beginning to get used to these silly media days, but today had gone by much quicker than I had hoped. It was probably the first, but I secretly hoped it was the second.
When I walked into my hotel room, I first noticed a beautiful purple dress splayed out perfectly on my bed.
“Of course, it is Hermes purple,” I grumbled.
I rolled my eyes, picking up the dress to examine the style. It was bad enough that I had to date a Hermes driver; now they expected me to wear their color.
The plan was to have Luca out front of the hotel at 7 p.m. We had a reservation at a little Cuban restaurant on the waterfront, and Luca was to drive us to the spot in his car, a bright yellow Lamborghini. The Hermes F1 team got their engines from Lamborghini, so the automobile manufacturer gave their drivers a Lamborghini Aventador as a gift.Must be nice.
By the time the clock read 7:10, I had finished getting ready, knowing I would be slightly late for Luca downstairs.
Good, Luca could wait a bit, I thought to myself. I grabbed my purse and jacket and descended the stairs.Theslower, the better.
As I approached the hotel’s main doors, I could see Luca leaning against the passenger door of his Lamborghini, scanning through his phone mindlessly. I cleared my throat, and he looked up at me, immediately letting his eyes scan my dress – and my body. I could tell by the look on his face he was not expecting me to show up wearing a purple dress. His eyes quickly flickered up and down my figure, and if I hadn’t been acutely aware of him at that moment, I might have missed the expression of shock and awe on his face. Almost as quickly as it appeared, his expression was gone, and Luca was back to the stern, neutral Luca Rossi I had gotten to know earlier that morning in the elevator.
“Georgia, good of you to show,” he said dryly. Before I could respond, he had opened the vehicle’s passenger door, signaling for me to get in. Part of me wanted to protest, throw a little fit, and lecture him on feminism and how I could open a door myself, but now didn’t seem like the time or place. Plus, it seemed a bit petty, and I had promised myself in the stairwell that I would work on the pettiness.
“Can’t put a time on beautification, Luca,” I retorted back, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.
Luca hopped in on the driver’s side and started the car, not uttering another word to me. The car ride was short and quiet, which was for the best, as I didn’t exactly know what to say to him. Before I left, Lizzie had given me a set of questions that I was meant to ask Luca, a catch-all of things two people in a relationship were meant to know about each other if they were to convince an entire community that they were dating. I palmed the question cards in my hand, not having the courage to pull them out during the tense drive.
When we arrived at the restaurant, Luca parked the car in front of the valet and quickly approached my passenger side door. He stuck his hand out, which I gladly accepted, if only because getting out of a car that low to the ground with heels was next to impossible. I mumbled a pathetic string of thanks and walked up to the hostess stand with Luca trailing behind me. Before I registered what he was doing, Luca gently put his hand on the small of my back and let it rest there as the hostess began to guide us toward our table.
As we walked through the restaurant, I could see the eyes of various people looking us up and down. Did they recognize us? It was likely – our faces had been all over billboards for the last several weeks in Miami. You would have to live under a rock not to know that a Formula 1 Grand Prix was happening this weekend. When we sat down at our table, I saw a couple a few tables down from us pull out their phones and pretend to text, but I knew they were taking a photo of us.
Well, cats out of the bag. No turning back now.
If Luca noticed this, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went straight to the menu, clearly starving from a day full of training. Truth be told, if I weren’t so nervous, I would have been equally as ravenous. Within minutes, a waiter approached and asked us for our drink order.
“Sparkling water,” I responded quickly.Luca looked at me as if I had just ordered poison.
“We’ll take a bottle of the Duckhorn Vineyard Merlot,” he said. The waiter nodded, and after explaining the specials to us, he left us to choose our main courses.
“I don’t drink on race weeks, well, not until after the race,” I said finally once the waiter had disappeared from earshot. Luca quirked his eyebrow at me as if I had said something so ludicrous he couldn’t possibly understand it.
“If we’re to get through this, you might want to change that habit,” he bit out.
Ever the gentleman is Luca,I thought sarcastically.
I wanted to further my response but decided against it. It would be a long season if we didn’t learn to be civil.
“So, Lizzie and Matteo have created some questions for us. They’re worried we won’t know enough about each other when the media comes along asking questions.” Before he could respond with something that I was sure would be plenty rude, I pulled out the small stack of cards and read the first question.
“Besides racing, what is your favorite thing to do?” I wanted to groan internally at that question –how morose– but kept myself composed. I needed to know these things if we were going to sell this stunt. And I needed to sell this stunt if I was going to keep my seat.
“I golf.” I motioned for Luca to continue, but the waiter was back with my water and the wine. Before I could protest, the waiter had already poured out two glasses.
