Chapter Four
Georgia
Just before seven p.m., a loud banging rang through my hotel room, causing the eyeliner I was perfectly applying to slip.
“Shit!” I exhaled a groan. “Coming!” As soon as I opened the door, Henri and éliott burst into the room, a champagne bottle in éliott’s hand and chocolate cake in my brother’s.
“Nice raccoon eyes,” Henri chuckled, and I gave my brother a quick shove, lunging for the dessert.
“Bring this all the way from Monaco in case I won?”
“No, I brought it in case I won,” he laughed, lifting the cake above my head. “But since you did, I figured we could share.”
Behind my brother stood éliott, Henri’s best friend, who over the last couple of years had truly become one of my closest friends.
éliott was a ray of sunshine on the darkest days.
While Henri offered more tough love, éliott offered solidarity.
He understood what I was going through, and even though we were competitors on different teams, his loyal support had been unwavering over the last five races.
“Georgie Pie.” éliott smiled. “So fucking proud of you today!”
Grinning, I waved them inside, handing over spoons as we flopped onto the suite’s leather couch. éliott popped the bottle of champagne, pouring us each a glass from the kitchenette’s mismatched glassware.
“Figured we had to get a pre-drink in before we head out to celebrate your win tonight!” But as éliott clinked his glass with mine, he flickered his eyes to my brother, and I knew they had an ulterior motive for being here.
Like a cloud brewing before a storm, the mood of the room darkened slightly.
“So…” Henri started, awkwardly poking at his cake.
And there it was.
“What did Isabelle have to say?”
I stuffed my mouth was a large chunk of icing, chewing painfully slow as I stalled for time, but neither of them broke eye contact. Their gazes were expectant. Almost like they’d spent the late afternoon planning this intervention.
Or been told to by Isabelle.
“She was displeased, obviously. This year has been financially tough, and the team has been struggling to get sponsors. If we don’t secure this big Maison de Klotho sponsorship deal soon, the team could be put up for sale.
The embarrassment of the only woman-owned team failing, it puts added stress on the team. Added stress on me.”
“And she thinks your sharp tongue isn’t helping?”
I shot him an irritated look. “Apparently, the phrase ‘there’s no such thing as bad press’ isn’t actually true.”
“I don’t get it. You’re a brand-new team featuring the only female drivers on the grid. Why is the team struggling to get sponsors?”
“Oh, Henri. You sweet, na?ve golden boy.” Even éliott uttered a disbelieving scoff at my brother.
Henri groaned; he hated that nickname, even if he knew it was true. The motorsports world adored my brother. Tall, handsome, charming and fast—sponsors loved him. He was the package all teams wanted in their athletes.
“Look at the logos on your car, Henri. It’s companies with male CEOs and male executive teams who like to watch men race fast cars.
Name one company on your car that is run by a woman.
” Henri’s face was tense, and I watched my brother mentally go through his list of sponsors: oil companies, private investment firms, IT infrastructure companies, not a single one with a female CEO.
“Motorsport is predominantly watched by men, sponsored by men, and run by men.”
A concept that had never occurred to him. It hadn’t needed to.
“What’s going on with the Maison de Klotho sponsorship? Any more movement on that?” he asked.
“They’re interested.” I stared at my plate.
“We need this to come through. They’re one of the largest fashion houses in the world.
They see the growing female fanbase, but we still have to show them we’re worthy of sponsoring.
” I exhaled, my eyes fixed on the dark, velvety chocolate sauce that swirled on my plate.
“I need to show them that I’m worthy of sponsoring. ”
“It’s a team effort, Peaches…” My brother started.
“But I’m the team leader, the number one driver. A big part of this burden rests on my shoulders.”
“I guess just raw talent doesn’t get you sponsors these days,” éliott sighed, dusting a few crumbs off his pants.
“Sponsors want charm and the ability to sell; talent is just a nice bonus.” The unfortunate truth with any sport.
It was like the media expected me to be a social butterfly in front of the press simply because I was a woman.
Silent dread filled me as I took another bite of cake, the sudden dryness making it hard to swallow.
I had the talent, but the charm? I’d spent years mastering my ability to hide from cameras, a not so helpful skill when your team’s survival depended on being the center of attention.
“I know you try to understand, Henri, but I just can’t explain how being in front of the press makes me feel. I hate being put in front of people I don’t know, only to be asked the same ridiculous questions every week. I feel like a monkey at the circus, on display for everyone to see.”
“But Georgia—”
“I just want to race,” I said softly. “It’s all I’ve wanted to do since Dad took us to see our first Monaco Grand Prix.
” As young kids, we’d fought to be lifted onto our father’s shoulders, desperately trying to catch the action of the Monaco Grand Prix below us.
It was how we’d fallen in love with racing.
“I eat, sleep, and breath racing, and yet when I say that in interviews, I’m considered obsessive.
I must constantly practice to keep up with the tracks, but I can’t practice too much or I’m boring.
I’m supposed to be a team leader, but whenever I give advice, the media labels me as the bossy driver.
It’s a never-ending bout of criticism. I’m just a 25-year-old who wants to race fast cars with her friends. ”
éliott grabbed my hand for a moment, giving it a small squeeze, and Henri, to his credit, sat quietly and listened to me rant, his kind hazel eyes watching me like they hung on my every word. A few tears rolled down my cheeks, and éliott reached into his pocket, handing me a tissue.
“You’re not obsessive or bossy, Georgia, but maybe when the media asks if you plan on doing something other than racing, you don’t tell them more racing?” He gave me a small, pleading laugh, trying to soften the blow.
“I’m a professional athlete who wants to win the most competitive driving championship in the world. I’m pretty sure if the press caught me shopping before a Grand Prix, they’d roast me for not being focused on the race.”
“It’s more that—” Henri started.
“No! Valkyrie hired me to win the championship. These women depend on me. The other drivers might be open to spending time visiting Disney World before next week’s race in Miami, but I want to be the first driver to win on this new track layout.
I’m not going to put the Valkyrie mission at risk because I want to go galivanting around the US before a race. ”
Henri laughed, raising his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. I get it. Look, Peaches, we just want what’s best for you, yeah? That’s all. I finally get to race with my sister, and I don’t want that to end after a season. We’re here to support you.”
“Would some paddock gossip about Luca make you feel any better?” éliott asked with a smile, nudging my brother who gave him an annoyed eye roll. Considering éliott knew my past with Luca, he was always a little too eager to gossip about my brother’s teammate, a trait I very much appreciated.
I downed my champagne, holding out my glass for a refill. “Obviously, yes.”
Henri sighed begrudgingly, pouring a second refill into his glass, before topping up mine. Even though Henri found his teammate rather infuriating, his unwavering loyalty to Hermes usually stopped him from oversharing the team’s drama.
“Fine. Just before I headed over here, I heard my team principal and Luca’s father whispering in Francesco’s office.
They were discussing Luca’s… reputation.
One of our largest sponsors is threatening to back out, and the team hasn’t renewed Luca’s contract.
With his dad being a former World Champion for Hermes, the team are willing to cut Luca some slack, but there’s only so much they can do about his crumbling reputation. ”
“Hah, good luck to them,” I sneered. “That man is incredibly cocky and self-absorbed. He’s always hitting on the women’s F1 Academy drivers, which is just insulting.
He shows up each week with a different woman on his arm, just like the playboy everyone thinks he is.
I mean, the man commandeered, no, I’m sorry, stole a yacht, and all he got was a wrist slap,” I grumbled.
“I give one-word answers at a press conference, and I’m made out to be a villain accused of bringing down motorsport.
Luca Rossi literally steals a boat and gets a headline.
I could start my own online magazine with the amount written about me. ”
“Geez, Georgia, tell us how you really feel.” Henri looked taken aback.
“Oh, please, you complain about him all the time.”
“I know,” Henri admitted, “but you have to also consider the intense pressure he’s under.”
“And I’m not? Life’s just a walk in the park for me, huh?”
éliott shot Henri a look that said drop it. “I think what Henri is trying to say is having a World Champion as a father, especially one like Michael Rossi, that’s not something anyone can live up to. It can’t be easy.”
My head started to spin. Not three hours ago Luca was staring me down after the greatest achievement of my life, and here were my brother and friend, defending him.