Chapter Six
Georgia
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been as drunk as I was on Sunday.
And two days later, I was still paying for it.
By the end of the night, Henry and éliott seemed more intent on seeing who could buy the most rounds of champagne, a battle that decidedly had been won by neither, considering no one could remember past round five.
By Wednesday morning, after a restless, sweat-soaked night in the Miami humidity, I was starting to regret every decision I’d made since Sunday. Including not cranking the AC. The loud banging on my hotel room door did nothing to help with my headache.
Groaning, I wiped the sweat from my forehead before opening my hotel room door to an overjoyed Lily, grinning like a Disney princess high on sunshine.
My teammate practically had sun shining out of her ass at any point of the day, and while she’d become one of my closest friends over the last year, her ability to see sunshine and rainbows everywhere was rather infuriating.
Especially when it felt like the surface of the sun in my hotel room.
“Georgia! Have you checked Instagram?” She barged in, tossing her race bag on the floor like a hurricane in designer sneakers, a gleeful smile on her face.
“No, not yet. Why?” Lily looked at me like I was the insane one, not her, impeccably dressed in a matching skort and Valkyrie polo, all ready to go two hours before we had to be at the paddock.
Her makeup had been applied meticulously, her hair in a perfectly styled ponytail that said both effortless and copious effort.
Impressive for seven thirty in the morning.
I, on the other hand, looked more like I’d been hit by the team bus.
“It’s all over social media! A British tabloid released it this morning!” Lily squealed.
“Released what?” I crossed my arms as I frantically tried to think back to what the media could possibly be harping on about now.
“It’s all anyone is talking about!” Her eyes were fixed intently on her phone screen, not bothering to look up at me.
“Lily!” I waved my arms dramatically in the air, trying to capture her attention. “Released what?”
“Oh, sorry!” She shoved her phone into my hands, and it only took one glance for my heart to sink into the pit of my stomach.
Staring back was a photo of me and Luca from Sunday, our lips locked in a very heated kiss.
My fingers were intertwined in his dark, wavy hair, while his arms were wrapped around me, holding on to my lower back.
Even though the image was slightly blurry with the zoomed-in angle, there was no denying it was us.
“What is th-this? H-how did they get this ph-photo?” I stuttered, panic creeping into my voice.
“Someone at the bar must have took it?” Lily shrugged. “Do you seriously not remember?”
Flashes of that night hit me as my mind tried to piece together the hazy memories from that night.
The adrenaline rush after crossing the finish line, the celebratory drinks at the bar, and then Luca.
His brown eyes, the way his hand felt on the small of my back as he leaned in close.
It was all coming back in flashes, each one more incriminating than the last.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I remember enough. God, Isabelle is going to kill me.”
No, worse, she was going to lecture me on my stupidity and then kill me. We were meant to be putting on a professional front; making out with a rival during a champagne-fueled rage didn’t exactly scream maturity to sponsors.
“What! This is great, Georgia! Hell, people all over the comments sections are saying how your obvious hatred of one another must be a ruse, which is… better than what they were saying yesterday. I mean, who doesn’t love a romance featuring the sister dating her brother’s teammate?
” Lily shimmied her shoulders like a mom who’d had too many mimosas.
Snatching my phone from the charger, I scrolled down my Instagram notifications. Hundreds of notifications had poured in, and while Nora managed my social media account, judging by how many unread notifications I had, she hadn’t been able to keep up this morning.
Lily looked over my shoulder, pointing one out. “Oh, look at this one. ‘Damn, Luca could have anyone, and he chose Georgia? She must be cooler than I thought.’ Aww…”
“I am cool!” I muttered. A word I had been using far too much recently.
“If you have to say it so much, is it true?” Lily grinned, giving herself a pat on the back.
I rolled my eyes, flinging my phone onto the couch. “This is ridiculous,” I scoffed. “I got caught making out with another driver on the grid, and with Luca Rossi no less. That’s so embarrassing and unprofessional!”
“Who cares who you’re sleeping with? You’re a grown-ass woman. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
And this was why I loved Lily. Even in her sunshine-fueled state, she approached life with such conviction, even if it wasn’t realistic. Life was full of injustices, ones that we had to navigate on a daily basis, as Isabelle liked to remind me.
I shot Lily a look that told her to get real. While the male drivers of the grid certainly did their best to test this theory, I couldn’t possibly imagine what kind of double standard the press had in store for me.
“Well, it’s irrelevant; I’m not sleeping with Luca.”
Lily raised a brow. “Why not? He’s a snack.”
“Sure, if you’re into cocky party boys,” I shot back.
She smirked. “Kiss looked pretty real to me.”
To be honest, in my champagne-fueled state, from what I could remember the kiss felt pretty real. Luca’s lips were incredibly soft and inviting, but a kiss like that could never happen again, not with the paddock’s biggest party boy who was having issues with his own sponsors.
He’d had his chance.
“I only kissed him to get on Anthony’s nerves,” I bit out. In the moment, it had been the only thing I knew would wipe Anthony’s lurid grin off his face.
Hearing a buzz from my phone, I opened it to see a text from Isabelle.
Isabelle:
F1 offices at 8:30. Conference room 3. Don’t be late.
“That Isabelle?” Lily asked and I nodded.
“Time to get ready for my execution,” I sighed. “Thanks for coming by, Lil. Say nice things at my funeral.”
As soon as I walked into the Miami paddock, I headed to the F1 offices where I noticed Luca standing outside the two white double doors of conference room 3.
Great, I’m going to get yelled at in front of Luca, I moaned to myself.
With his much-too-tight Hermes team shirt that showed off his arm muscles, his thick hair blowing in the wind, and his club master Ray-Bans, Luca looked more like a movie star than a racer.
Which was fitting, since he walked around the paddock with an ego of someone who had won several Oscars, instead of a racer who could barely get on a podium.
He acknowledged me with a curt nod and then proceeded to shift his weight from one foot to the other while the two of us stood in deafening silence.
“So,” Luca said coolly, finally breaking the ice. “Did you spend your one day off on your simulator preparing for this race like you promised the media in Barcelona?” His question was a taunt and a trap, one that I refused to fall into.
“Did you spend yours planning which influencer to seduce?”
“Why? Jealous?” I hated how seductively he winked at me. Cocky prick.
“I’m not interest—”
“Interested in dating?” He cut me off. “Why doesn’t that surprise me.” I didn’t have time to reply before Isabelle popped her head out of the conference room doors.
“Why are you both just standing there? Come in!” Of course, Luca hadn’t even bothered to knock.
Groaning, I brushed past him, taking a seat at the large conference table in the center of the room.
He just grinned as he trailed behind me, sliding off his sunglasses and ruffling his hair like we had just walked onto his movie set, not a dimly lit, damp room.
Sitting at the table were Francesco, the Hermes team principal, who wore a stern look on his face, and Matteo, Luca’s manager. Not long after I sat down, Nora came into the room and sat next to me, like a dutiful soldier flanking her general—or a prison warden guarding their prisoner.
“So, anyone willing to tell us why we’ve been summoned?” Luca stared at his watch as if he had somewhere to be. I glanced at Isabelle, who just frowned disapprovingly before shutting the door.
“Before I begin, I want everyone to know that what we’re about to discuss is not to leave this room.
” Isabelle stood at the head of the table, arms crossed with pursed lips.
“This wasn’t an easy decision, but after chatting with Francesco and our respective sponsorship teams, both Valkyrie and Hermes think what we’re about to propose is the best course of action.
I know neither of you will be pleased with this idea, but I truly believe this will help boost both of your images with the media and, more importantly, your sponsors. ”
I stared at Isabelle intently, trying to decipher her cryptic words as I tapped my fingers on the table.
“Right, I’m going to cut to the chase since we’re all very busy.
Georgia and Luca, you’ve both been struggling with your respective media images, and if you keep going down this path, the two of you could risk losing your seats.
There’s only so much bad press the teams can handle, especially when it affects our finances.
” She paused, eyes darting between us to gauge any reaction before continuing.
“So, after much discussion between our two teams, we’ve decided on a new PR strategy to help the two of you boost your reputation.
I’m sure you’ve both seen the overwhelming response to this morning’s tabloid photos that were released in the European press.
” Isabelle ignored my loud groan, instead pulling out a couple of articles she’d printed, planting them on the table.