🏎Woking, United Kingdom🏎
Dakota moved sluggishly to the kitchen counter. Her movements were slow as she poured water into a mug, reaching for her coffee.
Her whole body was sore and her limbs felt heavy. Her eyes burned with fatigue and her forehead throbbed in pain.
It had been an incredibly long three days since her return from Miami. She was scheduled to fly out to Barcelona in a few hours to make it in time for Thursday's briefing.
They had made so many changes on the car, one would think they'd built an entirely new one.
Barcelona had to go perfectly.
But McLaren was already facing issues and race week hadn't even begun.
All reserve drivers were currently being used by other teams. Alpine, Williams, RedBull, and Alfa Romeo were all scheduled to use reserve drivers. McLaren itself had only one official reserve driver and that was Pato O'ward who was set to race for the Indycar weekend.
Now the team was left scratching their heads as to who would replace Lando for the Spanish Grand Prix.
Her phone lay on the counter, face up.
She sighed, unlocking her phone and wincing at the bright screen.
As she waited for her coffee, she absentmindedly scrolled through Instagram.
She tapped on Lando's story that happened to be first on her timeline.
"Fuck!"
Her heart dropped to her stomach.
"Shit. Shit. Goddamnit Dakota," she scolded herself.
Alessandro's birthday was on Tuesday. It was now Wednesday morning.
She quickly opened up the phone app and hit Alessandro's contact.
The phone rang several times before an Italian voice messaging system relayed. Straight to voicemail.
He didn't pick up.
She tried again and again before deciding to leave a message.
"Hi Love, happy birthday! Sorry I couldn't talk to you earlier, something came up. I hope you enjoyed your day today and had some time to relax. I can't wait to see you this weekend. Call me when you get the chance."
She felt like she was going to throw up. It was just approaching midnight in Italy. The whole day had gone by already.
She felt sick knowing Alessandro was probably expecting at least a text from her.
It had been an entire 20 hours since Dakota had called Alessandro.
"It's okay, maybe he got really drunk last night and is sleeping it off," she muttered to herself, crumpling up the paper and throwing it at the wall as hard as she could.
Fuck.
She was a terrible girlfriend.
As she sat ruminating over her actions, a phone call interrupted her train of thought.
"Hi Zak, what's up?"
"Hey, I was wondering if you had the aero stuff sorted out?"
"Er, I'm still working on it?"
"Kota, it's been two days."
"I know! I know, I just- It's been a long day and I've been trying to get it done but I just ca-"
"Were you out celebrating with Sandro?" he teased, making her breath catch in her throat.
"No," she replied, not intending for her voice to crack.
YOU ARE READING
Dolce Vittoria | Formula 1
RandomSEQUEL to Gaining Traction "Buckle up Moreno, it's time for the drive of your life," Dakota smiled, patting the front of his shiny car. "Tell Norris to get a good look at the back of my car. He'll be seeing it more often," Alessandro smirked under...
