Deals with Daisy // LN4

18 ~ Too Good For a Sofa

Lando's POV

As much as she might downplay the last few days, I'm convinced that she's had fun despite the news that Luke is clearly still a dickhead. I didn't dislike him, or at least I am trying really hard not to because I knew that me actively disliking him was just going to push her further away from me and probably closer to him. So I tried my hardest to keep my opinions to myself... even when I saw his Instagram stories of him out and about in London partying.

I wasn't even surprised when Daisy did show me the photo of him leaving the club with a girl literally wrapped around his arm. Did I think it excused her actions? No... I don't believe in cheating but I do think it's at the point where it's difficult to determine if the pair of them are even in a relationship? If it was, surely it was verging on being an open one? They seemed so far removed from one another even in their own home. Still... it's not my business.

Yet.

At the very least, I'm selfishly enjoying having her around, even though she's clearly trying to keep her distance from me. I hugely appreciated the way she came to my defence with Fraser this morning, Jon later described it to me while I was warming up for free practice as pretty impressive how quickly she went from threatening my life to jumping into action to save me. I tried to not let his words get to me, reminding myself that she was in fact very hungry and it probably had been out of a desire to murder me that she moved so fast... but still... maybe I was getting through faster than I thought I would?

"So what's the plan for the night?" I ask Daisy as it's just the two of us heading out the paddock, carrying our own bags as she spins the keys for the Mercedes G-Wagon around her finger lazily tapping on her phone, the still setting sun making her ginger hair look more gold than copper.

"Food... I need food and a drink and to deal with Fraser," she mutters, a nervous edge to her voice, incredibly unlike how she's been the rest of the day. I think she can tell that her attitude is a little off given the way she sighs before lowering her phone and slipping it into one of the pockets in her dress and grimaces as she looks at me. Something in her body language telling me that it's not the Fraser situation causing it and in fact has everything to do with something personal which is why I'm not getting an explanation. "There's nowhere within a forty minute radius of the hotel for him to stay," she says quietly after a moment, as though to explain. While I'm not convinced that's the issue causing her new mood - I do see how it's a problem.

"Why does it matter how far it is that he's away?" I ask unhelpfully, waving goodbye to a couple of the team members as we pass them, many of whom are still confused by the appearance of the ginger who almost never leaves my side. "It's not like we need him to be able to get there for breakfast?" I say, surprised by myself with how brutal I was feeling about the whole thing.

I'd felt really guilty for firing Fraser because technically it was my fault to not push him to do more but when I saw him this morning... not only was he an arse to me but I couldn't stand the way that he talked to Daisy. The way she didn't even flinch suggested to me that she was prepared for it which grated at me even further... Fraser was a family friend but Daisy was Daisy. I'd always been protective and I knew as I looked at her tired face on my right, I would always be protective of her. I was going to and then I saw the fire in her eyes and the calmness in her voice and reminded myself that she would probably get frustrated with me if I did try... she had changed and she was strong now. I needed to let her be her.

If she'd looked at me for any sort of support then she would have gotten it but it was clear to me that she was at peace with the situation even if I hadn't been.

"Well... as he pointed out not so politely to me when he woke up, technically... the room that was mine is booked by McLaren for your agent," she says calmly, clicking the car open and we quickly slide in, me still looking dumbly at her for an explanation. "Until Monday he is your agent Lando. It's his room not mine. And the call I got while waiting for you confirmed that there are no other rooms anywhere nearby. There's no way that he will willingly go to a hotel forty minutes away. So... what I mean is that the closest hotel I can get into is forty minutes from yours and an hour from the track," she explains before quickly peeling out the car park, fingers drumming rhythmically on the wheel as she explains the conundrum rather calmly. Which is good because I'm not calm with that information.