3. Garage Tour
Garage Tou r
Lucy
There are a lot more people working in the garage than I ever would have imagined.
Race engineers, performance engineers, controls engineers—you name it.
I wasn’t far off when I said this was a whole new world.
It certainly feels like it, just like how the paddock operates as a mini city with every amenity you could think of.
I can feel my jaw drop. “Are you serious?”
Elio laughs, and so do a couple of other guys standing nearby. Elio glances at them, and they wink before turning around.
I scrunch my eyebrows, bringing my gaze back to the car. “I mean, it looks cool and all, but that’s a lot of cash.”
“The technology, of course, is what costs the most. The car is equipped with hundreds of sensors transmitting different types of data to the engineers.”
“Even while you’re driving?” I ask while snapping a few pictures of the car.
“ Sì . That’s the most important time. The engineers are watching the race itself, but also what the car is telling them. We really are a team here in F1, even if I’m solo behind the wheel.”
“That’s incredible.” I crouch down to examine the seat. “You’re practically lying down when you’re driving, right? How can you even see from there?”
He chuckles. “It’s actually not that bad. Yes, we’re lying down, but the seat is molded to our bodies, almost like we’re in a cocoon. It’s better that way. No distractions, and we can focus on the race. You’ll try it later, then you’ll see.”
My eyes fly wide. “Oh, no, no. I’m not driving this.” Not that I’d even fit in that seat anyway. My body is definitely not cut from the same mold as Elio’s.
“Of course not. But you can try the simulator. It’s the next best thing.”
“Elio,” someone calls out. “Are you—oh, sorry,” he adds when he notices me. “I didn’t know you had, um, company.” His forehead creases as he glances between Elio and me at lightspeed.
And in that moment, I suddenly understand all the glances, winks, and sly grins. They think I’m just another conquest. His crew mates just want a good look at the girl of the day—or the hour. Why didn’t I think of that? He hasn’t even introduced me to anyone.
“You’re not interrupting,” I say, loudly enough for everyone in close proximity to hear. “I’m Lucy Williams, a journalist working alongside Elio until the Monaco race. Actually, if some of you are available for quick interviews, that would be great.”
“That’s right. Lucy wants people to rave about how awesome I am on camera,” Elio says with a wink, making everyone laugh.
“Oh, right,” the guy says. “PR mentioned something about that. I’ll talk to you about Elio, if you need. I’m Nick, his race engineer.”
“The one who’s always speaking in my ear,” Elio adds, tapping his ear for emphasis.
“And I have a lot to say.” He flashes a grin, and Elio rolls his eyes.
“Fantastic. Is now a good time?” I ask, jumping at the chance to distance myself from Elio—and the gossip of us being together.
“No problem,” Nick says.
“Oh, perfect. Let’s step aside.”
Elio is called over by someone el se, and Nick and I step out of the garage. We try to find a quiet spot, but the entire garage area—or whatever it’s called—is buzzing with activity. We manage to find a shaded spot that’s not too noisy, and I grab my phone. Once I hit Record, I begin.
“Okay. I’ll ask you a bunch of questions, and I want you to answer them in a few sentences only. I want shorter snippets because I’ll be doing a montage with several people answering the same questions.”
“Got it.” He nods.
“First question: Why do you think Elio is so successful?”
Nick hesitates, probably trying to find a clever response. “He’s not afraid to take risks. He knows how to shut his mind off when he’s on the track, and that’s why he gets things done.”
I wasn’t expecting such a candid answer, but I’m glad I got it.
“What’s his best quality as a driver?”
“Dedication. Hardest working driver I’ve ever worked with.”
“And his worst flaw?”
“Um,” he says, looking up. “Recklessness.”
I nod, intrigued by his answer. “Do you think he’ll win the Drivers’ Championship this year?”
“One hundred percent. The Constructors’ Championship too.”
Somewhere nearby, a car screams to life, the sound sharp enough to make me flinch, but it sends a thrill skittering through me. “Well, thank you for your time.”
He stuffs his hands in his pocket s. “No worries. I’ll send a bunch of guys your way so they can answer your questions too.”
I offer him a smile as I stow my phone. “That’d be great. Thank you.”
Frank was right; there is something to uncover here. Despite Elio’s cockiness and playful attitude, he is a true athlete—one his team has a hundred percent confidence in. I think the fans will like to see this side of him.
Elio
After the garage tour and Lucy’s interviews, I take her to the drivers’ suites to show her where we unwind during the race weekend.
“So, this is my room.” I open the door and lean against the doorframe.
“Nice,” she says, peeking her head inside.
“You can come in.”
She looks hesitant. “I’d rather not. I can see fine from here. Can I snap a picture?”
“ Certo , but only if you step inside. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise, I don’t usually kidnap girls into my room.”
“Haha, very funny.” She rolls her eyes, slipping into the suite.
“They always come willingly,” I add with a wink.
She presses her lips to hide her smile, looking around the small room. It’s not much. Just a living area with a sofa, a TV, and some snacks. There’s also a bathroom and a walk-in closet for me to change.
“Where do you want me?” I ask, posing in front of the TV and showing off my biceps.
She props a hand on her hip. “You never stop, do you?”
“Nope.” I smile, my arms dropping to my sides. Frankly, I’m not even thinking about it. This is just who I am. Life is meant to be enjoyed, after all. I learned from a young age to live like there’s no tomorrow.
“All right, let me take a few pictures of you around the room. This could be good. And act natural. I think people will like this goofy side of you.”
“It’s the only side of me,” I say, striking a pose again, this time kissing my bicep.
She bursts out a laugh, and it’s got to be the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
So, I do everything I can to hear it again.
I hold different poses around the room, using pillows and blankets as props.
And as always, I go all in. Okay, maybe I give a little extra.
I probably wouldn’t have hugged the remote like that normally.
“Oh my goodness,” she says, drying her tears of laughter as she falls onto the sofa. “I can’t. Stop.”
“Who knew I was so funny?” I joke. “I really do have everything going for me. You know, you should definitely go out with me tonight. I’m heading to a club for an event.”
She gives me a pointed look. “S till a hard pass.”
I cock my head to the side. “Isn’t it your job to follow me around, Bella ?”
“At work.”
“Why do you think I’m going to the event tonight? The club is a sponsor.”
She shrugs. “I’ll just say you went. No biggie. I don’t need all the deets.”
“Fine.” I try to keep my tone light, though I must say, I’m a little disappointed. A few hours with this woman, and I can’t seem to get enough.
Someone knocks at the door, and Lucy springs to her feet.
“Come in,” I call out.
“Ah, there you are,” says Marco, the performance engineer, as he opens the door. “We’ve been looking all over for you. You’re late to the prep meeting. FP2 is in twenty-five minutes.”
“Sorry,” I say, turning to Lucy. “I lost track of time. Feel free to stay here, or you could come down and watch FP2,” I suggest before trailing after Marco.
She nods, offering a grin. “Sure. I’ll use the restrooms and be right down.”
Once Marco and I are in the corridor, out of earshot, he turns to me. “Should have known, man,” he says slyly, then gives me a puzzled look. “Although, it’s not like you to bring a girl back here. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in your driver’s suite.”
That’s because there’s never been one. “Oh, no. She’s a journalist. She’s shadowing me for a while for a big feature in Pulse Sports.”
“Oh, okay. That makes more sense. I was just thrown off to see you late to a meeting. You’re not easily distracted.”
I nod, following him. He’s right, I was distracted, and it’s definitely out of character for me.
There’s just something about Lucy. I’d say I’m a man attracted to a pretty physique.
But what captivates me most about Lucy is her eyes.
And yes, I know it’s still a body part, but it’s not just their beautiful shade.
It’s their expression. How they go from annoyed when she shoots me one of her pointed looks while I flirt with her, to amazed when I explain something about F1, or curious when she studies me.
It’s like she sees more than she lets on. And for a guy who’s spent most of his adult life being looked at but rarely seen, that’s . . . unsettling. The kind of feeling I can’t shake. The kind I don’t want to.