Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 25

"Miss Archer?" A tentative voice asked as I walked into the lobby of the hotel. I doubted I looked very approachable after such a long day - the press conference ran over time by half an hour and I am exhausted. The cool lighting probably accentuated my under-eye bags and dry skin. I pitied the anxious looking young man that wanted my attention, even more so when he looked as exhausted as I was. A race weekend pushes the workers of the hotel to the limits.

"Yes?" I replied as politely as possibly, forcing my lips upwards into a smile.

The worker beckoned me through the busy lobby towards the desk. Luckily, most of the people in the lobby worked in formula one so they weren't bombarding me for an autograph or picture. I rested my elbows on the marble counter, tapping my nails against the surface. My anxiety was playing up a little from the number of people in a relatively small space, but it was nothing that I couldn't handle. I waited patiently as the worker ducked below the desk and pulled out a large bag. Immediately, I was taken by surprise, not expecting something like this.

"This was dropped off earlier," he told me, holding out the handle of the bag for me to take. When I spun around the back, I saw the Michael Kors logo I had grown familiar with since my sponsorship largely displayed. The bag was quite heavy when I tried to lift it, and the contents were concealed with some Mercedes-coloured tissue paper. "I can help you carry it to your room, if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," I politely declined, still wearing a smile. I hoisted the bag's straps over my shoulders, allowing the main part to settle on my hip. It rustled as I moved away from the counter and fumbled to get my key card ready from my phone. "Thank you!" I called over my shoulder, offering a small wave to the worker before I left.

Once the doors to the lift closed behind me, leaving me alone, I openly expressed my confusion. Why were MK sending me this? I really need to check in with Damien to see if I had received any emails since he was in charge of monitoring the business ones for me. I would've thought he'd let me know about something like this because he was with me for most of the day. I would understand if I had been doing practice sessions, but it's media Thursday. Is it something I forgot? More than likely.

The lift eventually pinged on my floor before I had the chance to sneak a peek of the bag's contents. As I walked to my room, I squeezed the bag between my arm and my side in an attempt of getting a feel for what was inside. There was definitely a box of some kind, and whatever was in it seemed to rattle with every step.

"Hey, schatje," Max's voice greeted me when I finally stepped into my hotel room.

"Hey." I dropped the MK bag on the floor momentarily to access the rucksack on my back, which I then tossed carelessly on top of Max's shoes by the door.

Max was laying on the bed, propped up by the headboard. His eyes immediately landed on the MK bag and he dropped his phone into his lap. "What you got there?"

I furrowed my brow. "Not a clue. All I know is that it's something by Michael Kors." I dropped the bag onto the white duvet and knelt beside it. Max, in intrigue, crawled over and perched next to me. I gently slapped his hand away when he went to reach in, sending him a warning look. "It's not yours."

"But I want to know what it is," Max protested. He paused for a moment, then a cheeky grin lit up his features. "I hope it's lingerie."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I tried to hide my amusement. "If it is, I expect you to give me a show."

"The bras would probably fit me, to be honest."

"Hey!" I frowned dramatically at Max's joke, jutting out my bottom lip. I know I have a small chest and I always made jokes about it so I wasn't in the slightest bit mad. As he laughed, Max leaned over and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my head in apology.