Page 43 of Racing Hearts
“So, I’m curious, where did the Flash nickname come from?”
“Ahh, a good question,” his father pondered, taking one more bite of his eggs before setting down his fork. “I wish I could say it had a long, riveting story, but it’s quite simple, actually. You see, as a child, Luca wasobsessedwith go-kart racing, but his mother was always worried about him—even karts can be dangerous. So, in order to quell his mother’s concerns, he would tell his mother before every race, ‘Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll be back in a flash.’ An American slogan he had heard on TV, but it stuck with him. Before long, it had become the slogan the family had adopted. The fans came up with the lightning bolt logo once he got into Formula 1, and it’s stuck from there.”
Across the table, Luca looked like he wished the story had stayed in the family vault. His spoon clinked gently against his bowl as he stirred what little yogurt remained.
“I can only imagine what a cute little momma’s boy Luca was.” I gave Luca a quick grin at my attempted jab, but Lucile just beamed at him with admiration, and he smiled back at her. For a moment, my heart warmed at their interaction.
“And tell me, where did Henri’s nickname Peaches come from?” Lucile asked.
“Oh,” I laughed. “Not nearly as good a story. My parents call me Georgie Pie, and as a kid we often visited America. One visit, we went to a peach farm in the state of Georgia, where Henri had his favorite peach pie and the silly nickname stuck after that.”
“Oh, what a cute story! It must be so amazing to race with your brother.” She smiled, and for the first time I noticed it: the dimple. Left cheek, just like Luca’s. He might race like his father, but the face? That was all his mother.
“Undoubtedly two of the most talented drivers of your generation! Imagine havingtwochildren madly in love with racing,” Michael exclaimed.
Luca slammed his spoon down hard enough to rattle the silverware. “Yep,” he said, exhaling sharply. “A real dream come true.”
Chapter Nineteen
Luca
My gut told me I should have canceled breakfast with my parents this morning, but after the excited text from my mother stating that she couldn’t wait to see me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The moment I saw my parents dragging an exhausted, slightly bewildered Georgia out of the elevator and towards the restaurant, every muscle in my body told me to run, make up an excuse that I had to be at the track early, because I knew this entire exchange would consist of my father gushing over Georgia, the daughter he wished he had.
And I was right. Breakfast was crucifying.
As soon as my father made that pointed comment, I knew I couldn’t sit through any more of this charade. Watching him gush over Georgia made me feel sick to my stomach. He fawned over Henri every race weekend; I didn’t also need to watch him do the same with the other Dubois twin.
“Well, breakfast has been great, but I think we best be leaving. Don’t want to be late.” I tapped my Rolex, hoping Georgia would catch the hint.
Please agree to leave, my eyes begged her.
“Luca, it’s only eight thirty. You have another thirty minutes before—” my dad began to argue.
Georgia squinted, giving me a quick once-over. “Oh, no, this is my fault.” She tugged at her jacket sleeve before realizing too late that she wasn’t wearing a watch. “I told Luca I wanted to get in a tad earlier this morning, I like to meditate before it gets busy in the garage, but thank you for breakfast. We’ll see you at the dinner later.”
I shot her a grateful look, surprised that she hadn’t put up a fight. I was sure that if Georgia had her way, she would have spent the morning grilling my father about his racing strategies, secrets he would have happily spilled to her. Henri had mentioned that his sister had a signed poster of my dad hanging in her apartment.
We quickly said our polite goodbyes before heading to the front of the hotel where my car was waiting for us.
“Thanks for agreeing to leave early. Didn’t mean to take my dad’s biggest fan away from him,” I attempted to joke as we climbed into the car.
“It’s no problem.” Georgia flashed me a genuinely sweet, small smile, which I couldn’t help but return. A blush flooded her face as she quickly glanced away, chewing on her bottom lip as she stared off into the distance, a casual smile on her face. She looked as if she was a million miles way, dreaming of something else, and I desperately wished I could slip into that head of hers.
“What’s got you smiling like a little schoolgirl this morning?” I teased.
Georgia quickly replaced her smile with a frown, shaking her head. “None of your business, Rossi.”
Truthfully that only made me more curious, but I put up a hand in defeat. She’d let me escape my parents early, least I could do was give her this tiny win.
“Fine, fine, keep your secrets.”
Georgia’s smile lingered a moment longer, her lips still etched into a soft curve, before she reached into the Valkyrie bag at her feet, pulling out her phone. “Nora instructed me to ask a few more questions if you’re up for it.”
Nodding in agreement, I motioned for her to go first.
“Here’s a good one. When did you know you wanted to be a Formula 1 driver?”
Even though my eyes were glued to the road in front of me, out of the corners of my eyes, I could feel Georgia staring at me.
