FOUR
‘THAT WASN’T FAIR,’ I grumble, as Gio leads me out of the meeting room and along another trophy-strewn corridor, leaving Ava to go on a tour of the headquarters with Izabel. ‘You put me on the spot.’
‘I know.’ He doesn’t bother to apologize. ‘But I wanted to talk with you in private.’
‘Why?’ I demand, trying to decipher his expression from his profile. His jaw is set and purposeful. Flirtatious Gio is gone; post-interview Gio seems to be all business. It’s becoming pretty clear that this isn’t a date, and I can’t help but feel annoyed, like he just used me.
And weirdly a little disappointed.
He throws me a sideways look. ‘Let’s get you that cinnamon bun and then I’ll explain.’
Five minutes later, we’re sitting at a table in the sunshine beside an empty race track.
‘So, what was that, some PR stunt to impress your sponsors?’ I ask, lifting my latte to my lips and immediately scalding my tongue.
‘Not entirely. I really do want to talk to you. Only it’s hard to know where to begin.’ He drums his fingers on the table like he’s trying to get his thoughts in order.
‘O-K.’ The breeze blows a curl of hair across my face at the exact moment I sink my teeth into the cinnamon bun, so that I end up with a mouthful of both. Seriously, this morning just gets better and better …
‘First of all, I don’t want to give the wrong impression,’ Gio says, his tone serious.
‘OK,’ I repeat, pulling the hair out of my mouth and tucking it firmly behind my ear. I have no idea what’s going on, but on the plus side the cinnamon bun is delicious.
‘What I’m about to say might sound a little weird, but I’d appreciate you hearing me out.’
I put the bun down and brace myself. In my experience, when a person prefaces a conversation with this number of disclaimers, they’re not about to say anything positive.
‘And I’d appreciate you keeping it between us. I know your friend has an F1 podcast, but I don’t want this conversation becoming public. If it gets out, I’ll deny everything.’
‘Fine.’ All the build-up is beginning to irritate me. ‘Maybe you should just say it?’
‘Right. It relates to what I said in the podcast about my personal life. I was never quite as wild as the tabloids made out, but the truth is I’ve messed up big time.’
‘Oh. That’s …’ I pause because, honestly, I don’t know what it is or what it has to do with me. ‘But you said you were turning over a new leaf?’
‘I am, if it’s not already too late. If I do well in Canada, then I should keep my seat on the team, but I’ll still need to convince Mark and my sponsors that I’m being serious from now on, which won’t be easy when the media insists on depicting me as an entitled brat who spends all his spare time partying.’ He stops to take a deep breath. ‘So Bo came up with this idea to rehabilitate my image. Which is where you come in.’
‘Me?’ My eyebrows shoot up.
‘Yes.’ He looks straight at me, his gaze unwavering. ‘But I want you to know this is purely a business proposition.’ Another deep breath. ‘Maisie, I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.’
‘Excuse me?’ I assume I’ve misheard.
‘I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.’
‘That’s what I thought you said.’ I look around for the hidden camera because his words still don’t make sense, and I’m not sure how to feel about them either. Half of me is offended that he so clearly doesn’t want to date me for real. The other half is weirdly flattered by the suggestion.
‘Is this a joke?’ I ask.
‘No joke.’
‘But then why … Wait! Aren’t you dating that model, Iris Somebody?’
‘No.’ His face clouds. ‘I was, but it didn’t work out.’
I have absolutely no right to ask, but he just asked me to be his fake girlfriend, so … ‘Why not?’
‘She wasn’t really my type.’
I give a loud snort. ‘Please. I’ve seen photos. She’s gorgeous. And how do you know I don’t already have a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?’ I challenge him.
‘Because when I invited you to Canada, you didn’t mention one. It seems like that would have been a good time.’ He tilts his head to one side. ‘ Are you in a relationship?’
‘As it happens …’ I start, considering lying about Harrison, and then sigh. ‘No. My last boyfriend broke up with me because I decided my exams were more important than him. He said I was no fun any more.’
‘Woah.’ Gio frowns. ‘That’s not cool.’
I shrug my shoulders because even though I was annoyed at Harrison I’m not exactly heartbroken. ‘Why do you even need a girlfriend?’ I ask, deflecting the focus from my love life. ‘Why not be single?’
‘Because that won’t change the narrative around me. The press will still find a way to call me a heartbreaker and party animal. Whereas if I’m seen to be in a stable relationship, I’ll be a reformed bad boy. Everybody loves those, right?’ He sounds surprisingly earnest despite my cynical expression. ‘It won’t be anything too arduous, I promise. Just flying on a private jet, staying in luxury hotels and travelling all over the world. Obviously I will pay for your time, travel and expenses, and I’m not suggesting anything intimate, just handholding, a few loving looks and an occasional peck on the cheek for the cameras.’
Handholding … The memory of the jolt I felt when his hand brushed against mine at the start of the podcast flashes into my mind, making my cheeks heat again. I can only imagine the effect a peck on the cheek might have.
I clear my throat. ‘So, no groping in public or making out on top of cars?’
‘No groping of any kind. As for making out on top of cars, my mechanics would never allow it.’ He grins as he lifts his hands up. ‘I won’t put these anywhere you haven’t legally agreed to, I promise.’
‘So, is this why you offered to be on Ava’s podcast?’ I ask, pointedly ignoring his attempt to be charming and the mention of legalities for now. ‘Was this your evil scheme all along?’
‘Not evil.’ He looks taken aback, because he likely is. That smile probably gets him whatever he wants 99 per cent of the time. ‘Bo thought it made a nice story: F1 driver dates girl he meets on podcast.’
‘Except you asked the wrong girl. Ava knows way more about Formula 1 than I do.’
‘Because she thinks it’s an actual sport?’ He looks at me intently for a long moment. ‘Look, I get it. It’s a messed-up idea, but, like I said, it’s not mine, it’s Bo’s. He thinks this is the only way to save my career, and as much as I hate to admit it, he might be right. I need a pretend girlfriend, and since that means spending time together, I want her to be somebody I can get along with, which, based on the evidence of the other night, I do. I like you. You smash stuff at parties.’
‘Ha ha.’ I pick up my cinnamon bun and take another bite. ‘Gio, we only hung out for about twenty minutes.’
‘But they were the best twenty minutes of the night.’
‘Urgh.’ I roll my eyes. ‘Stop that.’
‘Stop what?’
‘Stop trying to charm me. You said this was a business proposal. So make a business case. Persuade me.’
‘OK …’ He clicks his fingers. ‘I like that you’re into extreme sports.’
My stomach plunges. ‘What?’
‘Bo did some research. You were a downhill mountain biker, right? That sounds pretty extreme.’
I clamp my teeth together. Of course his manager would have looked into my background before making this offer. They’ve probably done a deep dive into my life. It’s basically due diligence, but it still makes me feel tense, like I’ve been spied on. ‘That was a long time ago.’
‘But you understand what it’s like to compete. The pressure. That gives us something in common.’
‘I guess.’
‘And you study sports psychology.’
I shift on the bench. ‘Yes.’
‘So hanging out with a Formula 1 team could be useful for that, no? I could introduce you to my performance coach.’
I nod slowly because yes, actually, that could be very useful. If Dr Meyer wants a completely new essay, I could give her one on F1 – not on Gio specifically, since I’m pretty sure that would be a conflict of interest, but on the sport in general. I’m still not convinced though. ‘I’m sure there are other sporty girls you could ask.’
‘True,’ he admits casually, like there’s a long line of them queuing nearby. ‘But it’s been a long time since I met anybody who doesn’t know who I am. Plus, you gave me the brush-off the other night, which suggests you’re not interested in me personally and, since this is a business proposition, that’s perfect. The last thing I want is my fake girlfriend catching feelings.’
I burst out laughing before I can stop myself. Hands down, he’s the most arrogant man I’ve ever met.
‘What?’ He looks confused.
‘You just assume that any woman you date is automatically going to fall in love with you?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘It was implied. Maybe I should be asking the same question. How can I be sure you won’t develop feelings for me ?’
‘Because …’ He pushes a hand through his hair, brushing the dark waves away from his forehead. ‘Because my last break-up was … upsetting. I’m not ready for another relationship and I don’t want to hurt anyone else either. What I want right now is to focus on winning the championship. The best I can offer someone is friendship.’
‘Oh.’ I almost feel guilty for mocking him. ‘That sounds reasonable.’
‘So … what do you think?’
I catch my bottom lip between my teeth because, even though it’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard, it’s also not the worst. Only I’m not ready to admit that quite yet.
‘What I’m thinking is that this dough is really good. Sticky but not too sticky, with the perfect amount of cinnamon,’ I answer nonchalantly.
‘Would you like another?’
‘I probably shouldn’t. Would a fake Formula 1 girlfriend be allowed to eat two cinnamon buns in a row? Or would I have to give up carbs and get my teeth bleached?’
‘First of all, that’s a pretty judgemental stereotype.’ He gives me a scolding look. ‘Second of all, you can eat whatever you want. The whole point of this is that you’re a normal person. You know, the “girl next door” type. Grounded. Low maintenance.’
‘You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?’ I’m not actually insulted because I want him to be honest, but surely there are better words than normal , grounded and low . ‘Are you sure that’s what your sponsors want to see? You might be better off with a lingerie model.’
‘According to the press, I’ve already dated them all.’ He smirks.
‘Uh huh. So essentially what you and Bo are suggesting is that we lie to the world’s media. It would be pretty bad if they ever found out the truth. Isn’t it a big risk?’
‘I’m used to taking risks. It’s a risk just asking you. You could sell your story to the tabloids.’
‘I doubt they’d believe me. I’m having a hard time believing it myself. And I don’t like risk, at least not any more.’ I tap my foot under the table. ‘What about Ava? Would I be able to tell her the truth?’
‘No.’ He shakes his head firmly. ‘If we do this, then we’d need to keep it between us and Bo. He’s contractually obligated not to try and ruin my career.’
‘Ava wouldn’t tell anyone.’
‘But she might let something slip accidentally. The fewer people who know, the better.’
‘So I’d have to lie to her?’ I frown. ‘I’m not comfortable with that, and she’s not stupid. She’d want details.’
‘About?’
‘What you’re … you know.’ I wave a hand. ‘ Like .’
‘That’s easy. Tell her I’m the best you’ve ever been with.’
‘Modest!’ I retort, but I can’t help smiling. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, even about this stuff. Maybe he’s right and we could be friends. It’s tempting …
‘Look, I know keeping secrets from your best friend is a lot to ask,’ he says, sounding serious again. ‘How about I make it up to her with Grand Prix tickets? Full access. If we do this, I’d need you to come to a few races, and Silverstone’s only three weeks away.’
‘Is this bribery?’ I lift my eyebrows with mock dignity. ‘Are you attempting to bribe me?’
‘Is it working?’
I sip my coffee, needing caffeine to keep up with this conversation. I hate the idea of lying to Ava, but on the other hand, I’m pretty sure she’ll forgive anything if tickets to Silverstone are part of the deal. She dreams of working in Formula 1. If Gio were my fake boyfriend, this could be useful for her too.
‘When you say “a few” races, how many do you mean?’ I ask. ‘Because I do have a job – not that you asked – and university starts again in September and …’ I stop. ‘Why are you laughing?’
‘I’m not laughing,’ he protests, though he clearly is. ‘You just ask a lot of questions.’
‘Because they’re important!’
‘I know.’ He folds his hands together, looking serious again. ‘Three races, minimum. You can choose whichever ones you want.’
‘You also said something about legalities earlier. Would I need to sign some kind of agreement?’
‘Bo would prepare a contract. A basic non-disclosure with a list of the things we’re each prepared to do and not do.’
I take another mouthful of cinnamon bun and stare at him while I chew. He’s so self-assured, like he has no doubt that his plan will work. It makes me want to take him down a peg or two.
‘I don’t know,’ I say finally. ‘I’m just not sure I’m a good enough actress to pull this off. I mean, to make it even remotely convincing I’d need to be genuinely attracted to you and unfortunately …’ I lift my shoulders.
‘Are you saying you don’t find me attractive?’ He gives me a disbelieving look.
‘Don’t be offended. I’m sure lots of people think you’re very good-looking.’ I tilt my head to one side, letting my gaze wander from his muscular neck down to his bulging biceps. They fill the sleeves of his shirt completely. I’m messing with him, but I can’t deny the view is pretty impressive. ‘I just prefer looks that are a little less … obvious.’
‘Obvious?’ His voice is heavy.
‘Yeah. I mean, your features may be conventionally attractive, but where’s the mystery? The hidden depth? The poetic soul?’
His eyes flash as he leans forward, bringing his face close to mine and tucking my windblown hair back behind my ear. ‘ Un motore, quattro ruote, un volante, un telaio, e copricerchi …’
My heart leaps into my mouth, making it impossible to speak. I’ve never felt a frisson like this before, but I’m pretty sure that explains the goosebumps all over my skin. His voice is pure velvet, and it’s lucky that I’m already sitting down because I have a feeling my knees might have buckled otherwise. I was in no way prepared for that .
‘Is that … poetry?’ I ask when I’m confident I can speak again without my voice wobbling. It takes longer than I’d like.
‘It’s my kind of poetry – a list of car components.’ He sits back with a smug look on his face. ‘So what do you say, Maisie? Will you be my fake girlfriend?’
‘You don’t give up, do you?’
‘It’s kind of in the job description.’
I twist my face away to look at the track beside us. It’s not empty any more. There’s a group of people gathered around a race car on the far side, all dressed in silver overalls that sparkle like diamonds in the sunshine. As I watch, they all jump back and the car suddenly speeds forward, shooting off into the distance faster than I would have thought possible. Everything about this experience is surreal, but I have to admit, the energy is exciting.
‘Three races … Hmm.’ I tap a finger against my chin. ‘So, theoretically speaking, how long would this arrangement be for?’
‘Until the end of the season.’ His lips twitch at my blank expression. ‘Early December.’
‘And what about other women? Real women?’ Women like Iris Calver … ‘Would you fake cheat on me?’
‘No.’
‘For six months?’
‘First you ask me how well I know my boss’s wife, and now you accuse me of being a sex addict?’ He scoffs. ‘I think I’ll survive. The same would have to be true for you too.’
‘Trust me, that’s not a problem.’ I hurriedly gulp the rest of my latte, because I can’t believe I just admitted that.
I’m extremely tempted by his offer. I don’t want to make a hasty decision, not while I’m still under the influence of shock and cinnamon bun, but maybe I should relax and go with this? I don’t have anything else exciting planned for the summer, and it’s not like he just propositioned me or anything, which I’m obviously relieved and only mildly offended about. We’d be friends, like he said, which could be useful, considering that Ava’s going to be working at her internship most of the summer and all of our other friends will be going home for the holidays. And there’s no risk of me doing anything stupid like falling in love with him; he’s way too arrogant and cocky for that. Besides, I’m not looking for love. I’ve had a couple of casual boyfriends besides Harrison over the past few years, but there’s never been anyone I’ve cared deeply about. My degree has to be my priority right now. If I do agree to date Gio until the end of the season, it’ll be the longest relationship I’ve ever had – six whole months of togetherness before we consciously uncouple like a pair of mature grown-ups. Honestly, it sounds kind of perfect. Lots of fun and no risk of getting hurt.
‘I’m taking the fact you haven’t answered yet as a good sign,’ Gio says, plucking what’s left of my cinnamon bun out of my hands and taking a bite.
‘I haven’t answered yet,’ I begin, seizing the bun back again. ‘Because if you get fired after Canada, this whole idea might be moot.’
‘Fair point.’ He chews slowly. ‘In that case, I’ll let Bo know where we’re at, and you can take some time to think about what I could offer in return for your help.’
‘All right.’ I nod. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘Good.’ He slides his tongue slowly over his lips to lick off the cinnamon icing that lingers there, before the arrogant grin snaps back into place. ‘We can discuss it on our second date.’