Epilogue
Georgia
“And the championship is ours! Fuck yeah!” I heard Mel scream into the radio.
“Georgia, congrats. You had a hell of a season, and this is a well-deserved win for both you and the team. Can’t wait to do this again next year, love.” I smiled at Isabelle’s words. The softness of her voice was refreshing. I had a sneaking suspicion she might even be smiling.
“I am speechless!” I yelled back into my radio. “Thank you to the team. This one is for you ladies… for every last one of you. Thank you! Thank you to Lily for being the best teammate I could have dreamed of, an absolute star.”
“You have outdone yourself today, Georgia,” Mel called into the radio. “Today, you have shown every single little girl that they can turn their karting dreams into a dream of being an F1 champion, just like Georgia Dubois.”
As soon as I hopped out of my car, my brother grabbed my helmet.
“I am so proud of you, Peaches, so fucking proud.” I squeezed my brother and he quickly dragged the two of us off to our parents, who had made it to the fence.
I immediately jumped into their arms as we hugged, not a single one of us wanting to let go.
I heard the officials calling for Henri and me to head to the cooldown room to get weighed.
I searched the crowd for Luca, desperately looking for my boyfriend, who was seemingly nowhere to be found, but just as I was about to walk in, I felt an arm link around my waist, pulling me in.
Luca grabbed my head and crashed our lips together, pulling my body as close to him as he possibly could.
“I’m so proud of you, amore. So, so incredibly proud of you. You never cease to amaze me.” As I broke the kiss, I let him pull me once more into another kiss as the FIA official started yelling behind us.
I begrudgingly let Luca go, heading back into the cooldown room where water was waiting for me. It was only a few minutes before we were being pulled onto the podium for the celebration. I watched Edward go out first, giving the crowd a big wave. Henri walked out next. And then it was my turn.
The moment I had been waiting for.
I walked onto the stage, watching the masses of people who had gathered in Abu Dhabi to watch us race. To watch me win. I waved at them as I walked onto the top step, taking my trophy from the government official before setting it down so I could take my hat off for the Monaco national anthem.
As soon as the anthems finished, I picked up my bottle of champagne to spray Henri and Edward, but it was too late—they had beaten me to it, absolutely drenching me, and then Mel, who was the Valkyrie podium representative, with their two bottles.
As soon as the bubbles died down, I took one more look into the crowd, giving them a final wave before stepping off the podium.
I walked back to the garage, trophy in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other.
Nora was the first to pull me into a hug, but it was short-lived as the rest of the garage crew started to come over, all of them demanding hugs, everyone wanting to see the trophy.
I looked around for Isabelle, my eyes scanning the garage.
Nora saw my confused look because she leaned over and whispered to me, “In the office.” I nodded and made my way to Isabelle’s office, knocking on the door. As soon as I heard the words “come in” I opened it slowly, looking around the dimly lit room.
There in the corner was Isabelle, sat on her couch, a glass of what looked like whisky in her hands. I walked over to her and sat down before grabbing a glass and filling it up with whisky. We sat in silence for several minutes, both of us sipping on our glasses.
“Maison de Klotho called me earlier today, before the race. They told me regardless of today’s outcome, it would be their honor to be our lead sponsor next year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I gasped.
“Figured I’d tell you after you became a champion.” But Isabelle’s cheeky grin told another story. She had wanted that dangling over me as I raced, knew the pressure would push me even harder, and I grinned at that realization. In just a year, Isabelle knew me so well.
“I’m not going to lie, even after the FIA’s statement clearing me of cheating last week, I wasn’t sure this would come through for us.”
“Nah,” she said, brushing it off. “They never had a case. Just like the Daily Reporter never had a good story. You know, Georgia, it doesn’t matter how much they try, they can’t keep us out of motorsports.
” Isabelle leaned back in her chair, her voice softening.
“Did I ever tell you the story of why I started the team?”
I shook my head no.
“When I was a young girl, I loved racing. Loved it dearly. I spent every weekend with my parents in Italy, karting with my brother. But as I got older, the karting got more expensive, and there was only enough money for one of us to continue. Even though I was more talented than my brother, my parents chose to continue funding his karting. Apparently, there was no hope I would ever be a professional driver. That just wasn’t something in the cards for a woman, so my brother, who could barely win races, got to continue living my dream as I was forced to return to normal life. ”
I set my glass down on the counter, pouring both of us another round.
“It was that day I promised myself I was going to start an F1 team. I decided that I was going to win this championship somehow…”
“And now that we have… it almost doesn’t seem real, does it?
” I finished for her. I understood what Isabelle was feeling.
Deep inside my soul, I understood. I had fought so long to be here, fought tooth and nail to stand on that podium and accept the World Driver’s Championship trophy, and now that this day had arrived, it felt almost bittersweet.
The illustrious dream wasn’t so illustrious anymore.
Isabelle smiled at me, her tears drying up as she took another sip of whisky.
“And now we’ve done it. Today, a female-run and operated team did more than just win the WDC. We proved to the world that women should have an equal seat at the table in motorsports—from mechanics to leadership to drivers, we’re here to stay.”
“That we are, Isabelle, that we are.”
“Next year is a new year, Georgia. New car design, new challenges. You ready to do it all again?”
“How many championships do I need to win to beat the current record of having the most titles? They have six, so I need seven?” I said with a chuckle, earning me a huge grin from Isabelle.
“Hmm… perhaps we should make it eight, just to be safe,” Isabelle countered, a refreshing gleam I had come to know so well gathering in her eyes.
“Well, we have one down.” I raised my glass as I stood up, clinking it with hers. “Here’s to another seven championships, Isabelle.”