Chapter Ten
Georgia
“You look like the sun is literally shining out of your ass. What’s with all the yellow?” I asked as Nora waltzed into my room, dressed in a bright yellow bucket hat and matching pants. Her happiness was a complete contradiction to the dread that all but consumed me this morning.
The question I’d been dreading since my horrendous qualifying yesterday.
“Frustrated I’m starting eighth.”
Embarrassed was more like it. In Saturday’s qualifying, a piece of debris had gotten lodged into my car’s floor, forcing me to retire from the final session early.
An eighth-place starting spot was a disaster for my race today.
Didn’t matter that the debris lodged in my car wasn’t my fault, there was no changing my qualifying position.
The brutality of Formula 1.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll make your way to the front in no time.”
“I’m sure the team will have no problem letting me pass Lily on track,” I grumbled sarcastically.
I was pleased that my teammate had gotten fifth in qualifying, but Valkyrie wasn’t going to just wave me by past her if she was having a good race. Lily had a chance for a podium here, and I’d have to earn my pass.
Nora either didn’t hear the sarcasm or chose to ignore it.
“So, I forgot to ask… did you happen to ask Luca any of the questions I wrote during your date? We should subtly slip some of those into your interviews today. No doubt they’re going to ask you about your relationship.
” Nora waved her hands at me, and I made a point not to look up from my phone. “Georgia!”
“I learned he likes the color purple.” The worst color.
“Really?” Nora shimmied her shoulders with unhinged giddiness. “Good thing I put you in that purple dress then.”
“He must have thought he’d died and gone to heaven!” Lily called out from my doorway.
I flipped her off without looking up. “Doubt it.”
Neither of them seemed convinced, and before I could protest, Lily thrust her phone into my hands with a look of triumph. “Ye of little faith! Look, a new photo of your date night came out this morning!”
A warm blush crept across my cheeks despite my best efforts to appear indifferent. Luca’s arm was draped casually over my shoulder, his lips brushing close to my ear as if he was sharing an intimate secret only for me.
“Date didn’t look that bad,” she added with a wink.
“Alright, enough of you,” Nora laughed, shooing Lily out of the room. “Time for Georgia’s coffee date!” Leaning in close, Nora looked like she was about to reveal a top-secret plan. “Okay, so when we get to the Hermes hospitality suite, you need to be all cheeky and ask Francesco if Luca is there.”
“Why wouldn’t Luca be there? He’s a Hermes driver and it’s the Hermes suite on a race morning.”
Ignoring my barb, she added, “And then Luca will come out with your brother, and you’ll have a little harmless pre-race chitchat, blah blah blah. Try to throw in something that isn’t racing related.”
“You do realize the only thing Luca and I have in common is that we race cars.”
The truth was, I talked about racing with Luca because it was the only thing we shared. His idea of a Tuesday night involved yacht parties with influencers and an open bar. Mine involved sweatpants, an F1 simulator rig, and whatever romance novel Nora and Lily forced into my hands.
Nora straightened her bucket hat. “Well, I’m sure you can find something else to discuss!”
“Never stolen a yacht before, so that one’s out.”
She didn’t dignify that with a response. “Come, let’s get this pre-race date over with so we can get back to focusing on the whole reason we’re here. Your race win!”
Every time I visited the Hermes hospital suite I was left completely in awe.
The gleaming marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and framed portraits of past champions oozed old money and sixty years of Formula 1 history.
Just past the entrance, I spotted Luca and Henri tucked away at a small table in the back, mid conversation.
Luca, ever the strategist, already held two cups of coffee.
Smart man. If he had drinks ready, we could shave at least two minutes off this awkward encounter. If there was one thing I suspected we could agree on, it was that every minute we didn’t have to spend together was a win.
He looked up, grin already in place, his Hermes team shirt soaked through from the Miami humidity.
The tight spandex clung to every inch of him, highlighting a body that absolutely did not deserve to belong to someone so insufferable.
I could make out every curve of his chest and the cut of his abs.
Stop. Staring. Georgia. Didn’t matter that Luca basically looked like a sweaty, handcrafted statue from the Italian Renaissance era, he didn’t need any more of an ego boost.
Suddenly, Luca had his arms wrapped around my waist, and we were locked in a large, sweaty embrace.
I could smell the salt on his skin as he tugged me closer, pressing my head against his muscular chest. He gave me a tight squeeze, which I might have secretly enjoyed if he wasn’t soaking wet from the sweltering heat.
That was a lie. I enjoyed it anyway, a fact I decided to shove into a deep, dark place. No one had accused me of being blind, just of being bad at media.
Luca let me go, motioning to a chair next to him as he handed me my cup of coffee.
I looked into the cup, and before I could ask, Luca whispered, “Don’t worry. Not an ounce of cream or sugar.”
Just how I liked it, which left me with a hint of surprise.
He turned toward Henri with a theatrical sigh. “Look who came to steal our racing strategy!” He took a sip from a purple mug that had his team number etched into the side.
“Don’t be silly, we don’t steal losing strategies over at Valkyrie.”
Luca huffed out a laugh at my quip, one that almost seemed genuine, but Henri didn’t seem quite so amused. He was very touchy about Hermes F1 strategy—or lack thereof, as he often bemoaned.
“Nice of you to visit us this morning,” Henri proclaimed, giving my arm a squeeze that was accompanied by an “I’m sorry you have to do this” smile. I made sure my cheerful grin screamed, “This is your fault for inviting Luca to that party.”
“Well, when Luca boasted that Hermes’ Italian coffee was better than our French roast at Valkyrie, I knew I had to give it a try. You know how I feel about anything Italian.”
Luca cocked an eyebrow at that jab but said nothing.
Instead, he scooted closer, draping his arm along the back of my chair.
His fingers began tracing gentle circles on the back of my neck—an unconscious tic I was beginning to recognize.
Over the last few days, it had become increasingly obvious that Luca’s love language was touch.
At first, I’d thought the hugs were just for show, but I was starting to realize that they did carry some meaning for him.
Henri topped off my coffee ever so slightly, before leaning in closer. “So, Georgia, I hear that Luca has you to thank for our front-row lock out today.”
“Oh?” I narrowed my eyes at my brother, trying not to let my curiosity show.
“That advice you gave me yesterday, amore, was quite useful.” Luca leaned in with a lazy grin.
No part of me believed that he was going to listen to the advice I’d given him after free practice.
But somehow, Luca had managed to squeeze out second place on the starting grid.
Oddly enough, I felt more pride than frustration towards him.
He might be Hermes’s number two driver, but Luca had immense talent, as shown by his large collection of Grand Prix trophies from the last eight years.
As much as I wanted to win, I hated watching another driver suffer through the kind of dry spell Luca had been enduring all season.
“Glad to be of service,” I muttered. “So, you going to use any more of my racing secrets to knock my brother off of his high horse and steal his victory today?”
Luca’s face told me exactly what he thought about my rhetorical question.
If I thought it was unlikely that Valkyrie would let me pass my teammate Lily on track, there was no chance in hell Hermes was letting Luca pass their golden boy in today’s race.
Hermes had made it clear that Henri was their number one driver with Luca in the supporting role.
Sometimes I wondered if that was why Luca never seemed to try during races anymore, wondered if he felt like it was pointless because the team prioritized Henri winning.
Without thinking, I placed a quick, sympathetic hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed for a split second beneath my touch, but he didn’t flinch, just smiled. “It doesn’t matter who stands on that top step, as long as it’s not Team Valkyrie.”
How incredibly diplomatic of him. I had no doubt that, deep inside, Luca wanted to crush my brother in this afternoon’s race. In F1, your teammate was both your best friend and your worst enemy.
“Well, we Hermes boys will have to stick together today.” A pointed reminder from my brother that Luca’s job was to help defend Henri’s first-place qualifying position.
Rolling my eyes, I internally prayed to anyone listening that I could turn my eighth-place start into a win so that I didn’t have to spend the rest of the evening listening to Henri and Luca boast about their success.
Nora appeared behind me, her subtle wave a polite way of saying, “Wrap it up.” I drained the last sip of coffee and stood, patting Henri’s head with a wicked grin. “Gotta run, but see you boys at the podium celebration. I’ll be the one on the top step.”
Henri snorted, standing up to give me a hug, before nudging me towards Luca, with a meaningful look that said, “Hug your boyfriend.”