A mans world, p.18
A Man's World, page 18
“Good morning, Cara,” he whistled out, walking over to my curtains and opening them all the way, letting the blistering sunshine into my room.
“Fuck, Luca, why are you in my room? Ever heard of knocking?” I yelled at him, taking one of my pillows and chucking it at him.
“I did, Principessa, but judging by the look on your face, you were much too asleep to hear my knocking.”
“Well, maybe you should have knocked harder,” I quipped back, attempting to grab the paracetamol from his hands.
He smirked at that, raising the two pills higher above my head. “This is only for hungover girlfriends.” I didn’t really appreciate his emphasis on girlfriend, or hungover, but I let it slide. My head was pounding, and he had lifesaving pain medicine as far as I was concerned.
“Who said I was hungover?” I muttered grumpily. A headache, nausea, and undying thirst after a night of drinking didn’t necessarily mean I was hungover.
Unfortunately for me, I 100% was hungover, no doubt about that, but I wasn’t about to let Luca know that.
Luca laughed at me and set the two pills down next to my bottle of water from last night. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I even got into bed last night. Had Luca taken me to bed? Last I remembered was attempting to watch a movie. I swallowed down the pills and took the coffee from his hands, downing the mug in two sips.
“Well, good, if you aren’t hungover, then we can start our day today,” he trilled, pulling the blankets back entirely. I got up quickly for a moment, horrified that I had no pants on. I usually slept in an oversized shirt, no pants required. Although to be fair, the results of what Luca and I saw when he pulled back the covers were much worse – I was still in last night’s clothes.
How drunk had I gotten?
It’s as if Luca could read my mind because he declared, “Much too drunk considering how little you drank.” The smug look on his face said everything I needed to know. I got up and pushed him aside, grabbing my towel from the banister.
“Why don’t you do us both a favor and get lost, huh?” I barked at him, closing the bathroom door with a bang. I knew I was being a bitch. I mean, he had brought me coffee – black with no cream or sugar, just how I liked it, plus some paracetamol. Still, he had done it with the intent to tease me, which I was not in the mood for. Today was day one of the Monaco Grand Prix. I had to survive what felt like eight hours of journalists, press, and fans before getting into a car tomorrow to drive a race that was probably the most important of my career to date.
And I had to do the first half of that while hungover. What an idiot.
As I finished in the shower, I grabbed my phone to check Instagram. I’m never sure why I felt the need to check Instagram before a race. It never made me feel better, but I guess as a woman in her twenties, it was in my nature.
I scrolled through various posts before finally arriving at the one about the podcast. To my relief, the reviews were pretty positive. There were calls that there wasn’t enough Henri content, but that was to be expected. Hermes' golden boy could have had his own podcast, and the women of the world would still be demanding more content of just Henri.
Still, the fans loved the prankster side of me, which I found to be quite shocking. I had spent so much time hiding this part of me from the world – I didn’t expect for that to be the one thing the fans held onto. It was as if it was the one thing that made me human… that made me relatable.
Maybe I should pull a prank on the journalists; then they might also see me as human, I chuckled to myself.
As I sat there trying to weigh out how likely I was to lose my seat if I pranked the F1 media community, Luca walked into the room with bacon, toast, and a second cup of coffee. As he turned and saw me in just a towel, he stuttered for a moment and then gave me a quick once over before backing away, but not before I could pick up my pillow from the bed and throw it at him.
Unfortunately for me, that made my entire towel drop to the ground, and I pulled my covers off of my bed to cover myself, screaming at Luca, “Come into my room one more time, Luca, and I will personally make sure you can never have children with whatever pathetic woman decides to marry you! Understood?” I could hear laughter from behind the door as Luca closed it. Insufferable man.
I quickly got dressed and threw some makeup on, putting my hair up in a braid. I scarfed down my toast and bacon as quickly as I could, then headed to the kitchen, where Henri and Luca were both sitting, enjoying a cup of my coffee.
“Thanks for breakfast,” I mumbled to Luca, not looking in his direction. Truthfully, I was too embarrassed to look him in the face.
“Don’t worry, Cara, now we’ve both seen each other naked. You know, me just now and you in your dreams,” he said with a wink. I froze for a moment and then turned to Henri, who had just spit out his coffee onto my nice Persian rug. Henri turned to me and quirked an eyebrow up, although I could see his expression was asking me if this was actually true.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Umm… you weren’t naked!” I said it with way too much sass for someone who had experienced a sex dream about their fake boyfriend. Luca just smirked, but his interest was definitely piqued.
Fuck, why had I just said that? It was clear that Luca knew, that I knew, that he knew – unfortunately – that he had starred in my recent sex dream, but now I had basically just confirmed it in my pit of anger. I turned my back and internally cringed, pretending to busy myself with the empty coffee maker.
“Better hope you haven’t seen my sister naked,” I heard Henri mutter to Luca. He clearly wasn’t amused at the joke, although arguably for very different reasons. I knew my face had gone a new shade of red, so I continued to play with my coffee maker, my back to the two of them.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Luca quipped back. I truly could have died in that moment.
Fortunately, before the awkward silence could continue, Henri's cell phone rang. It was their team principal, and he was requesting him in the paddock a little early to do a couple of extra social media stints for his home race. Henri came over and gave me a big hug, waving at Luca on his way out – albeit a little coldly.
Luca and I finished our coffees in silence – a smug silence for him and a mortified silence for me – and then we headed towards my parking garage. As we arrived at my Volkswagen Beatle, Luca turned to me, a horrified look on his face.
“What the fuck is this?” He asked with some amusement – but mostly horror – in his voice.
“This is a car,” I deadpanned back, getting into the driver’s seat. Luca just stood by the passenger door; he couldn’t quite shake the look of disbelief from his face. I think in that moment, I had actually stunned Luca Rossi into silence, and I felt quite victorious.
Georgia: 2 Luca: 1
As we arrived at the Monaco paddock, the place was buzzing with people, more so than I expected for a Thursday. I parked the car in the assigned parking garage, and then, hand in hand with Luca, walked through the VIP areas and into the main area with the garages. We took some selfies with fans and waved to the cameras as we were instructed.
Luca walked me to the Valkyrie garage, and just as he was about to leave, Isabelle called us both over with just a wave of her hand. Luca turned to look at me, and I could see he was a little nervous. Isabelle had quite the reputation in the paddock, and even though she was Francesco’s wife, I always felt like Luca was still terrified of her. Francesco was a piece of cake compared to Isabelle. I took a small amount of pleasure in seeing Luca squirm as we walked towards her office.
Before we walked in, I took a big breath and put on the biggest ‘I’m not hungover, don’t be silly Isabelle’ face I could muster. Isabelle looked up at us as we walked in and scrunched her nose, clearly assessing the two of us, and I immediately knew I had been caught.
“Had too much to drink last night, Georgia?” she asked – a clear tone of disapproval in her voice. I could hear Luca let out a small chuckle before Isabelle turned to him and chastised, “Don’t look so smug, Luca. Takes one to know one.” And with that, we both sat down quietly, like two toddlers who had been scolded by their mother.
Isabelle: 1 Luca: 1
After a few more awkward moments of silence, Lizzie, Hugo, and Lily filtered into the office, followed by Francesco and Matteo.
What is this, a party at the Valkyrie paddock? I grumbled.
“So, I have called you all here because the BBC has asked to do a segment on Luca and Georgia. Apparently, F1’s newest couple will be good for ratings,” Isabelle announced. “As much as I would like to push back on this, I think it would be a bad look for the team. The BBC is very good at getting their story out regardless of participation, and if we don’t agree, then we won’t be able to control the narrative. They are going to add this into the next season regardless; might as well be a part of that.”
I cringed a bit. I had never dreamed of being on TV. Hell, I think the idea of being on the next season of Full Throttle just as a driver was infuriating, never mind as someone’s girlfriend. While I hated media events, the BBC documentary felt worse because I knew this would be readily available to millions of people across the globe. People who didn’t even watch Formula 1 would watch this.
I felt Luca shift a bit in his seat next to me. I had expected him to be pleased about this, but his face told a different story, which intrigued me. Was it because he knew we were going to break up at the end of the season, and he didn’t want the embarrassment? Probably.
There was a silence in the air as if no one knew what to say. Putting a fake relationship on in the paddock was one thing; presenting it to the world on a huge national TV show was another. After a few more minutes, Isabelle dismissed both Luca and me, neither of us truly knowing what to say.
Will deal with that after Monaco, I decided.
When I woke up Saturday morning, I heard the pitter-patter of rain on my window.
Well, shit. Not exactly the weather I was hoping for. Rainy days were good for the teams that were in slower cars, but I planned to be in pole position after today, and the Valkyrie car wasn’t the best in the rain. Or, to be more precise, I wasn’t the best in the rain.
Still, I’d never backed down from a challenge before.
Luca and I got ready quickly on Saturday and headed to the track in his Lamborghini. The rain continued to pour down, and as we got to the paddock, Mel, my race engineer, informed me that FP3 had been delayed by thirty minutes in the hopes that the rain would cease. Based on the weather forecast, that felt very unrealistic, but I knew the FIA was willing to send us out in pretty terrible, blistering conditions.
Sure enough, as thirty minutes passed, I was loaded into my car and sent off to the third free practice of the weekend, only to be recalled back into the pits twenty minutes later, after another driver had crashed into the wall. They were fortunately fine, but the FIA decided that FP3 was too dangerous to continue, so everyone else was called back in to see if the rain would calm down.
As I hopped out of the car, Lizzie motioned for me to come over.
“This might be a while. Why don’t you go pop round the Hermes garage, hmm?” I gave her a pleading look; it was cold and wet, and I did not feel like dealing with either Luca or my brother, but I saw Isabelle behind her give me a nod, and that was that.
I grabbed Lily, and we padded on over to the Hermes garage, where we saw Luca and Henri sitting in the garage, playing chess. We walked into the garage, waving at Francesco on the way in as we made our way over to the boys, who looked up as we approached.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Principessa,” Luca said with a slight shiver in his voice. I looked down, and he was wearing his Hermes F1 jacket, but still, he looked quite cold.
“Figured you boys would need some company,” I said sweetly, sitting next to Luca on the bench. As soon as I sat down, Luca scooted a little closer to me, linking his arm to mine and putting his head on my shoulder. I looked at Henri and Lily, a look of shock on my face, which I quickly changed to a look of love. There was never a moment in public when we weren’t being watched.
Even though Luca and I weren’t actually dating, it had become clear to me that his love language was touch. Luca was the most touchy-feely person I had ever met. Henri and Lily just smiled at me, clearly noticing my discomfort.
“Awww,” Lily said, “aren’t these two just the cutest.” Henri nodded, his eyes turning to meet mine. Behind his eyes, I could see his mind assessing the situation. It was as if he had another thought behind the joyful face he was giving me, like he was evaluating the two of us, trying to piece together what he was actually witnessing in front of him.
I did my best to ignore Henri as I looked down at Luca and I’s hands, which were now intertwined. Luca was still staring at the chess board, clearly oblivious to the three of us around him. I looked around to see if a Hermes F1 social coordinator was watching, but the garage was surprisingly quiet. For a moment, those pesky butterflies returned as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that Luca was holding my hand and snuggling with me without any prompt from Matteo and without any media around us.
It’s as if he was enjoying my company. I tried to shake that thought from my head. Now was not the time to be getting sentimental with anyone, especially not the enemy.
As the rain began to clear up, I heard Lizzie call for us to return to the Valkyrie garage. Qualifying would begin soon, and the rest of free practice had been canceled. We quickly said our goodbyes, and I gave my brother one last hug, wishing him luck – well, good luck on getting P2, of course.
Luca
The rain had briefly slowed down to just a drizzle, and I had been asked to hop into the car since Q1 was beginning in five minutes. As I slowly went out on track for my out lap, I could feel how slippery the roads were – even with my wet tires. The Monaco streets were old, and they didn’t drain well.
I didn’t do as well as I had hoped in Q1, only coming in P5. Henri had managed P1, and Georgia P2, only a hundredth of a second between them. As Q2 began, the rain had picked up a bit, but we were still instructed to continue, the FIA insisting that the track was dry enough. Within one minute of starting, one of the Stella Luminosa team cars had spun out and crashed, causing a yellow flag to appear. The small wreck was quickly cleared, but it meant the teams had less time to get their flying laps in – and on a track like Monaco, that was a major problem.
Still, I was able to squeeze out P4, which would send me into Q3 of qualifying – where the actual pressure was on. Monaco surprisingly had a low pole-to-win ratio, and yet, every driver that took pole was the expected winner of the race. The track was nearly impossible to pass, and with the right defense, you could hold on even if you went under your top speed. As we put in our flying laps, I could feel the rain start to get harder – the track was getting more dangerous.
“We continuing?” I asked my race engineer, who responded in the affirmative.
I asked about the lap times, and he informed me that Henri was still P1, with Georgia a very close P2 behind him. Still, she had time for another flying lap – and then one after that. As I expected, after the next round of laps, Georgia was P1, and Henri was now P3 since Noah Hendriks had put in a solid lap, although after that lap his front wing had taken minor damage, and he was asked to come into the pits.
We were all instructed to do one last lap, and I was the third car to cross over the racing line before time ran out. It was Georgia, then Henri, then me over the line – with Oscar Parker of Rennen and Edward Davis of Wilmington right behind me, also on flying laps.
Last lap, Luca, let’s make it count, I encouraged myself. I could see Henri in front of me. His precision and movements looked incredible, and I started to believe that he just had to take the pole after this. It seemed like the lap of his life. I felt a little pang in my heart for Georgia. She was the presumed pole sitter, and while I obviously wanted to take pole position, a small part of me desperately wanted to see her up there.
But then, as I turned the corner, I saw a nightmare unfold in front of me. In Henri's aggression to get P1, he had hit Georgia’s car, and it was tumbling into the corner before the Monaco tunnel. Her car spun twice before hitting the barrier, but fortunately, Henri's car had stopped right before it could crash into Georgia. As I watched the wreck in front of me, I felt a huge pang of fear in the pit of my stomach; even though the safety in Formula 1 was top-tier, there was always a risk when we raced.
I immediately slammed on the brakes, got out of the car, and ran towards Georgia’s car, ignoring Henri as he climbed out of his car, hot on my trail. Georgia wasn’t getting out of the car, and that had me worried; that kind of force against a barrier would leave a driver stunned. I approached the cockpit of the car, but Georgia still wasn’t making a move to get out. As I started to pull her out, she began to move a bit more. I wasn’t sure if she was injured, or just in shock, but I wanted to get her out of this car before any potential engine fire could happen.
I could feel Henri come up behind me, attempting to push me out of the way so he could get to his sister. I stood my ground, turning my back to him so I could get a better grip on Georgia’s shoulders as I pulled her free from the racing seat. She held onto me, still not saying a word, as I felt her wobble a bit, using my body for balance. I put my arms around her and pulled her into me.
At that moment, it felt like time had stopped – for just that moment, I felt like Georgia and I were the only people in Monaco.
She then looked up at me, and I could see her eyes lock onto mine. I couldn’t see her whole face, but I knew that she had a look of utter despair. My heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces as I looked around and saw debris from her car all around her. Still, I let out a sigh of relief because while her car was damaged, she was alright.
