It doesn't take more than twenty minutes for her to reach her hotel, which is conveniently situated right next to the circuit, and pack her bags. And by that, she means throw everything into her suitcases with more force than necessary, while getting worked up all over again about the words Charles had uttered and talking to herself. It's either that or toss his stuff over the balcony that overlooks the gorgeous pool. She shakes her head at the idea nonetheless, she's mad as hell but she's not that evil.
She dials Pierre up as she waits for the elevator, but his phone is turned off. Looking at the time, she realizes he's probably still in debrief after the incredible result he got today, so she texts him instead, congratulating him again and letting him know that she's going back to Monaco. The news of her fight with Charles will probably spread fast, so she adds that she'll call him later and that she's fine, just needs to cool down a little.
She's standing in front of the reception desk, fidgeting and fiddling with the strap of her handbag, as she listens to the employee tell her that the earliest taxi he can get her will only be here in an hour. She knew traffic would be a pain around the circuit, but she was hoping to make a quick getaway before she gets screamed at yet again. She just wants to be gone and far away from here before-
"Emily?"
She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that maybe, if she doesn't move, they'll go away. The receptionist clears his throat and she knows she's been caught. She doesn't want to turn around, in case it's Charles, but she does anyway. She lets out a sigh as she comes face to face with Kelly and Max, and quickly scouts out the hall to make sure there are no red shirts in sight.
"Are you okay?"
"It's been a long day," she shrugs. She might be pissed at Charles but she's not about to air her dirty laundry in the middle of the hotel when his main competitor is listening. She considers Kelly a friend, but she can't really bypass the fact that her boyfriend is Max Verstappen, and that he's fighting for the title as much as Charles is. She feels lucky enough to get along with most people in the paddock, whether that is a Wag or a driver, but it's still a ruthless sport, and it tends to linger at the back of her mind.
"You're leaving already?" Max asks, surprised.
"Huh... Yeah, trying to anyway. Traffic jams and all."
Kelly must pick up on her hoarse voice, because she narrows her eyes at her. "Alone?"
She winces before she can stop herself. "Yeah, Charles is still in debrief. I might have to wait for him after all..."
Monaco is only two hours from here, but it's two hours too many in Charles's presence. That drive back to the principality is sure to be tense and heavy, and she's not sure she's up to endure another row with her boyfriend without bursting into tears right now.
"Wanna hitch a ride with us?" Max offers and her eyes widens.
It shouldn't surprise her anymore, since this isn't her first interaction with the Dutch driver, but it's still a mind fuck every time she realizes that he's not the rude, aggressive man the media makes him to be, at least not outside the track. He always smiles at her when he passes her by in the paddock, never fails to congratulate Charles when they share a podium, and he's generally a fun guy to be around.
Her hesitation must show on her face because Kelly adds, "We're going back to Monaco in about ten minutes, we just need to grab the bags. Lando is coming with us as well."
She's grateful for the fact that neither of them have asked questions.
"I don't know..."
Max links his hand to Kelly's. "We've got a free seat. It's yours if you want it."
