Page 22 of Racing Hearts
Not like the bickering rivals that we actually were.
“Pretty good, huh?” My manager looked rather pleased with himself.
I shoved the phone back at him. “It’s fine.”
“Georgia and Nora will be stopping by soon,” Matteo added, already halfway out the door. “Smile for the cameras.”
Before I could tell him exactly where he could stick his cameras, I heard her voice.
“Hiya! Is Luca around?” Georgia’s bright tone rang out through the garage, just as calculated as it was casual. “We were just walking past and thought we’d say hi.”
My team principal grunted as he nodded, but before he could summon me over, I waltzed out of my room and into the garage, pulling Georgia into a warm embrace. Her eyes widened in surprise, but the initial stiffness in her shoulders melted away as she relaxed, returning the hug. A sudden flood of comfort filled me. For all her icy exterior, Georgia’s hugs were inexplicably full of warmth.
“How did free practice go,amore?”
Georgia brushed imaginary lint from her pants, avoiding eye contact, cheeks tinged a faint pink.
So, she liked the nickname.Noted.
Georgia shrugged. “Car felt good, but the heat was draining. Hoping we get some rain; would make it cooler.”
We chatted awkwardly—small talk, rehearsed smiles—while one of the Hermes social media interns not-so-subtly filmed us from across the garage. A reminder as to why both teams felt it necessary to add this inconvenient stop into our busy schedules as drivers.
Finally tired of awkwardly standing in the way of the mechanics doingactualwork, I put my hand on the small of her back and led her further inside, pretending to give her a tour of the garage as the social media intern followed us. A tour that felt positively ridiculous, considering her brother had raced here for years.
When I opened the door to my driver’s room, Georgia let out a surprised gasp, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. On the other side of this wall was her brother’s room, a room whose disheveled nature rivaled a war zone.
“Not all men are slobs like your brother.” Chuckling, I motioned for her to take a seat on my sofa. She wandered in, trailing a finger along the spotless counter before dropping onto the couch.
“Good to see some men can pick up after themselves.” Probably the best compliment she’d ever given me. “So, now that it’s just us, how did your free practicereallygo today, Luca?”
Considering lap times were public, she knew exactly how it’d gone. That I’d managed to barely squeak out a sixth-place finish in the second free practice. Part of me wondered if she was trying to remind me of my failures. My father had spent the better part of the afternoon berating me with ideas, I didn’t need them from Georgia as well.
“Well, you can’t win them all.” My joke sounded stiff, and she didn’t say anything. “I see you and Henri are like a hundredth of a second off each other. No shocker there,” I added, trying to sound breezy as I collapsed onto the far end of the couch. I kept my eyes on the window, anything but the pity on her face.
“The Hermes car has great pace this weekend. I’m sure you’ll find it in qualifying.”
I thought Georgia was going to add, “if you put in the effort,” but she kept the light smile on her face. No biting remark, no smug grin. Just a steady confidence in her voice that almost sounded like belief.
“Perhaps.” I shrugged.
“You should watch Henri’s free practice laps.” Georgia immediately held up her hands in protest at my disgust. “I know, I know. Just hear me out. You know that area of the track by the bridge? It’s more elevated than it looks on camera. The camber is higher than you’d expect. Henri is losing some time because he’s religiously taking the racing line.” She paused, clearly second-guessing herself, but I nodded for her to continue. “As you go round, take your car off the line just a bit during qualifying tomorrow. It might help you if you time it right.”
She was nervous. I could see it in the way she wrung her fingers, the tension etched in her shoulders. Which meant she actually cared what I did with her advice. Georgia had a sharp eye for detail and a knack for spotting subtle nuances on the track. In this case, my father was right, I probably did have a lot to learn from Georgia.
I let the words settle, playing the line through my head. It was, to be fair, a clever idea.
“Not a bad idea,” I said finally, and Georgia relaxed enough for a soft smile to slip through. “You watcheveryone’sfree practice laps?”
“You don’t? Learned that tidbit from your da—” She hesitated, choosing to look out the window instead of finishing the sentiment.
“So, why are you helping the enemy win? Francesco paying you more than Valkyrie?” I gave her arm a slight, teasing squeeze.
Georgia smirked. “What can I say? I’d like some actual competition tomorrow. And if you could keep Henri on his toes, that’d be an added bonus too.”
“Who knew Georgia Dubois was so devious?” I laughed, before leaning in closer. “So, since we’re sharing advice… I saw this morning’s press.”
She groaned, rolling her eyes like it physically pained her. “For whatever reason, this morning’s journalists were so focused on my ability to race in the heat, that you’d think I haven’t raced in the US during the summer before.”
