Hopelessly Devoted ☆ Pierre Gasly

XXXIX

He smirked. "She always waits until midnight and messages people a happy birthday. Like she wants to be the first, but it's because she doesn't forget it during the day."

"That is just brilliant," she replied and shook her head. "It's adorable."

"Have you got any presents yet?" Pyry curiously asked.

Juliette shook her head. "Nope, not yet, but it's early. I'm not expecting anything, though. Just a simple hug or smile is more than enough. And that makes me realise we can't hug," she blurted, and her eyes widened by that thought. "Merde, Pierre, we can't be seen together." Panic flashed in her eyes. "I can't step out of this car with you."

Pierre parted his lips; that was a part he forgot. "Shit." They looked at each other and laughed. "We fucked up," he laughed.

"Why do we always end up in situations like this?" She shook her head and giggled. "Alright, how are we gonna do this? Drop me off outside of the entrance."

"And walk twenty minutes? Honestly, Jules, there are fans and camera's everywhere." Pierre was silent for a few seconds. "We just fucked up," he came to a conclusion.

Juliette sighed. "I swear, Helmut Marko will fire me. He will make people fire me."

"He will not."

"He will." Her face straightened. "I'm scared of him."

"Why?" Pierre smirked.

She shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes, you are just scared of people for no reason. Like... When Lawrence Stroll looks at me, I'm like: shit. But when Helmut Marko looks at me... I run."

A laugh rolled over his lips. "You're weird."

It was time for Pyry to stir in this conversation. "Just act like you're one of us." Juliette's eyebrows raised, and she looked questionable. "Act like you are my intern, I don't know, make it fun," he added.

"You don't look like you are of Mercedes's people," Pierre said and scanned her outfit; she was wearing a different top and different shoes than the team wear. "I have an extra t-shirt in my bag; wear that until you are in your department." He opened his bag. "That I haven't thought of that before, smart one."

Because Juliette had to travel via public transport, she decided to not wear her typical work clothes. People would recognise her, and Mercedes wasn't particularly loved by some fans here... "Sure," she said. "Pierre, I still have your Red Bull coat at home," she came to a realisation. "I forget it every time."

Pierre gave Juliette his shirt. "Keep it," he replied. "I don't need it anymore. A little souvenir." He winked.

"We love that," she sarcastically said. "Don't look," she instructed both of the men. Juliette swapped her pullover for a Toro Rosso team shirt. "Bellissima."

"You're the CEO of the dishwasher at Toro Rosso now." He widely smiled, it made him almost too proud for that comment.

Juliette deeply sighed, that was just disappointing. "Fuck off," she mouthed.

"You know, this looks good on you," Pierre complimented.

A shy smile grew on her face. "Thanks."

Just a few minutes later, they arrived at the track. Pyry parked the car and got out, so did Pierre. Juliette took a deep breath and put on her sunglasses. They can't find it out. Over the past few days, there were some difficult conversations between Juliette and the board of Mercedes about her relationship with Pierre, including calls with Toro Rosso. Both Juliette and Pierre couldn't afford the negative publicity now. But they fucked up anyway.