Page 37 of Not So Fast
“Oh, my God,” the woman in the T-shirt said with a surprising squeak of elation. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you. Can I give you a hug?”
Luckily, Mia was a big hugger. “Of course. What’s your name?”
“I’m Sam. This is my best friend, Angel. And my boyfriend, Chase.”
The towering man with Sam raised his hand. Yet more people streamed in through the door. A line had formed. People were waiting.
“Your podcast is the whole reason I finally relented and started watching F1,” he said. “I fought it for a long time.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “He’s so stubborn. Can we take a photo together?”
“Yes. Of course.”
Mia didn’t want to be rude, but she glanced at the clock on the wall and realized there was no way she could have this sort of interaction with everyone and work her way through the whole line before the race started. She posed for the photo, even though she did not like having her picture taken, and was starting to feel panicky, then sent Sam and her group to find their table.
More people arrived and now the hallway that led into the restaurant was jam-packed. She should’ve thought this through better. She grabbed a chair from one of the tables and climbed up on it so everyone could see her.
“Good morning,” Mia called between cupped hands. She was not used to commanding attention in person. Most of the time, she was sitting behind her podcasting mic. “Welcome, everyone. I’m Mia—”
That was as far as she got. People started clapping and hooting and hollering. Mia made a mental note to learn how to do one of those cab-hailing whistles. Or at least bring an air horn next time. She waved her hands, waiting for everyone to calm down. Someone near the back of the line shouted, “Shut the fuck up! She’s trying to talk!”
Mia took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you, everyone, for coming. I’m super excited about today. But the race starts soon and that’s the main event.”
“No! You’re the main event!” someone interjected.
A nervous laugh left her lips. “Um. Thanks. As I was going to say, everyone has an assigned table. Go ahead and sit and take a look at the menu before the race starts. I’ll come by and say hello to everyone. And we’ll have tons of time to talk after the Grand Prix.”
Thankfully, her guests began filing by as she climbed down from her chair, all while offering kind words.
I just had to tell you that I love you.
You’re so pretty in person. I’m so excited to meet you.
Will I be able to get your autograph later?
Mia smiled and said thank you about one hundred times, feeling overwhelmed. Her mind flew to Xander, how he sometimes had to hide from fans and how it was hard to have any real privacy. Of course, thinking about him only made her heart heavier and her stomach churn. He’d done okay in qualifying, but not great. Not like at Monza. She really hoped he’d have a good race today.
As soon as the crowd filtered into the bar, Mia took a breath and surveyed the scene. There had to be at least thirty people wearing her T-shirt or baseball hat or carrying one of her tote bags. This was officially nuts. And she needed to remember to be thankful. This was what she’d always wanted—a career where she could not only have success, but excitement, too.
She was about to walk up to her table when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see her mother.
“Mom? You came?”
“Well, of course I did. You invited me.”
Oh, this had been aseriousmisstep on Mia’s part. “Right. Okay. Great.” Mia rubbed her hands together, again glancing at the clock on the wall. She had about five minutes before the formation lap.
She scanned the room. “I guess we need to find a place for you to sit.”
“Where are you sitting? I’ll pull up a chair at your table.”
“Well, things are a little tight over there.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t take up much space.”
As soon as her mom said it, Judy’s loud and distinctive laugh rang through the bar like someone clanging a cowbell. Across the room, her aunt stood at one of the tables, holding court.
“What is she doing here?”
