Your daughter runs off while you were in the middle of grocery shopping because she spotted Max, her favourite driver. Meeting you, Max wants to know everything about you and your six year old. So of course he keeps finding ways to meet you, startin...
Note: we're gonna pretend that Max won the championship in the race, and the sprint race didn't exist for the purpose of the plot.
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"Holy shit," you murmur as the car rolls to a stop right beside Max's private jet. "Shit," your daughter repeats which earns a laugh from Max.
You shake your head and tell her, "don't say that." Luckily, she'd been so focused on the plane that she'd forgotten to wonder why. Other times, even after being given a response, she would persistently demand for the explanation, usually with "why, mama?" multiple times.
You turned your head to look at Max, who was already smiling due to your reaction. "You do know that you're about to ruin every other plane experience for me now, right?" You ask with a little chuckle and Max, being Max, nods. "Yeah, and you do know that we'll be flying private for most of the races," he said, adding, "or vacations."
"Is this your plane, Maxy?" Isabella asked, slightly leaning over your lap to look out the window as it gave her a better view of the aircraft. "It's ours, princess."
Your attention remained fixed on Isabella's expression as she took in all of the details inside the plane. Max was used to the luxurious life after travelling to so many nations in this plane. To you and Isabella, however, it was a whole new experience, and you couldn't help but feel both delighted and comforted that this would eventually become your new normal. Max hasn't hesitated to spoil you or Isabella thus far, and he has no intentions to stop, especially now that he's become addicted to the joy he feels when he does something for you or Isabella.
Once you were settled in, you were welcomed with a glass of champagne for you and Max, and apple juice for Isabella—served in a champagne flute to prevent her from feeling excluded.
This time, it was a much smoother experience for your daughter, especially during takeoff which she was very nervous about based on the last time she had flown.
Isabella was out like a light once the jet was in the air, and she was able to sleep peacefully because flying private had far fewer people than flying commercial. You and Max had moved to the opposite end of the plane to chat freely, but you could still keep an eye on Isabella in case she awoke.
The flight consisted of only Max, Isabella, and you, with a few crew members present. When you saw the lack of his team, you asked about it. "I might've told them to fly commercial," he said with a shrug.
"And they're going to hate me before I even meet them properly," you responded. While you had met a few people that were a part of his team, Max would be reintroducing you as his girlfriend.
He shook his head, "no they won't. I had to make sure that your first private flight experience was the best of the best, and that wouldn't be possible with them around."
