Page 31 of Racing Hearts
“We’ll see about that,amore. We’ll see.”
Chapter Thirteen
Georgia
“‘Damn, the make-up sex must be amazing. Georgia and Luca totally had us fooled into thinking they hated each other!’”
Lily nearly let her phone slip from her grip as she keeled over, laughter echoing through the halls of the Valkyrie offices. She was deep into the social media comments on my latest post—a congratulatory nod to Luca that Nora had insisted we publish.
Groaning, I rubbed the creases in my forehead. “Why are the comments so obsessed with my and Luca’s sex life?”
Lily flipped her auburn hair gleefully, still reveling in her social media finds. “Because, as I keep saying, that man is sex on wheels. Not that you’ve taken him for a spin yet.”
“It’s been one week! We’re barely even official!”
She gave me a look so exaggerated it deserved its own Oscar. “Which is a whole seven days longer than I would have taken.” Her eyebrows—and entire body—were practically dancing with excitement. “I can only imagine what the teams have in store for you this week, considering it’s Luca’s home race.”
After the whirlwind of Miami, we finally had a week off between races. A precious week to regroup and dissect what went right and, more importantly, what went wrong, before heading to Monza. But as the week dwindled down, I knew it was time to address the elephant lurking in the room.
If Miami was the appetizer to our relationship, Monza had to be the main course.
Nora poked her head out of the conference room, her voice echoing down the corridor. “Hurry up, you two!”
Lily entered first, and her high-pitched shriek should have been my cue to retreat back to the safety of my office. But before I could make my escape, Isabelle was ushering me into the brightly lit conference room.
The moment I stepped inside, I understood Lily’s shriek.
On the massive projector screen, clear as day, was a photo of Luca—shirtless, muscles glistening with sweat like a goddamn Greek statue carved by the sun itself. And there I was, standing beside him, staring up with what could only be described as the dumbest, most star-struck grin I had ever worn.
Kill me. Actually, launch me into the sun.
Laughter pulled me out of my shock. Lily was cackling like a schoolgirl as she stared at the boardroom’s TV. Mortified didn’t even come close to describing how embarrassed I felt. I prided myself in being a serious, level-headed racer. I had spent my entire career cultivating a reputation as a competitive rival to the male drivers—not a swooning 25-year-old girl ogling an attractive athlete.
“Take a seat, Georgia,” Nora announced sweetly, like she wasn’t broadcasting my embarrassment in 4K.
Snickering, Lily added, “She would, but she’s still trying to peel her eyes off of Luca’s abs.”
Huffing out a groan in annoyance, I took a seat across from her. The screen displayed the infamous post, the comments overlayed in bold text beneath it.
“Glad social media is talking about my ogling,” I grumbled. “Lucky me.”
“Oooh, look at this one!” Before I could protest, Lily proudly held out her phone. “It says, ‘Looks like Georgia Dubois has moved on with a new driver in the paddock, Luca Rossi, son of famous F1 champion Michael Rossi. Sources tell us that rumored ex-boyfriend and fellow racer Éliott Simon is fuming at the match.’”
I dragged a hand down my face. “I’m sure Éliott will love that.”
That rumor had been haunting me since F2. Heaven forbid a woman have a platonic friendship with a male driver. If Éliott and I had so much as shared a coffee, the press turned it into a candlelit dinner with matching tattoos. That was part of why I hated this fake dating idea, it almost gave validity to their gossip.
Nora cleared her throat, trying—and failing—to hide her smile. “Right, well, needless to say, things are going great in the social media department. Fans arelovingthe two of you! His catching you before you hit the ground? Absolutely priceless. Defending you from the journalist during the press conference? The cherry on top.” Nora clapped her hands together, her face lighting up into a large grin.
I rolled my eyes, forcing a half-smile that barely masked my bubbling irritation. Luca might have fiercely defended me in front of the media circus, but I’d also stood up for myself. Not that anyone mentioned that in any of the post-race articles. Apparently, when I defended myself, I was being combative. But when Luca did it? He was my hero.
A woman defending her honor wasn’t nearly as interesting as a man doing it.
“Alright,” Nora continued. “Miami was an incredibly successful teaser for the fans, and due to this, Luca’s manager and I have decided to move up the timeline a tad.”
A knot of apprehension twisted in my stomach. “How much isa tad?” With this being Luca’s home race, I knew that they’d want this relationship to be front and center.
Nora hesitated, never a good sign. “Next week, you and Luca should be more public in the paddock…” The uncertainty in her voice made my spine stiffen. I leaned forward, waving for her to continue. “It’s time for us to go official. As far as fans are concerned, you’ve been dating since before Barcelona. For this race, you need to properly look like a couple. Do things like hold hands, attend a couple of events together, take photos with one another,” Nora said quickly, and I knew she was silently praying I hadn’t heard her. There was a brief moment of silence as everyone watched me with bated breath.
