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Since Mugello, Jetté had been living through a remarkably dull and painful month. Nothing seemed to be going right, both on track and during the meaningless moments in between; little things that wouldn't normally affect her this way, but over time they had started to build into cataclysmic annoyances. In essence, Jetté was upset.
After her flight was delayed for the second time, Jetté had no choice but to make a beeline directly from the airport, not even check in at the hotel, and sprint to the Monza circuit with little time left to spare. Her paddock pass didn't scan, because of course it didn't. Then, she got turned around on her way to Ferrari, almost got roped into an interview with Anthony Davidson, and dropped her phone twice trying to read her messages while on the run. She arrived in Ferrari hospitality as a complete mess.
"I made it before lights out, right?" she asked in French, completely breathless.
Alexandra's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted Jetté. "Oui, we didn't think you were going to get here. Are you okay?"
"Oui," Jetté confirmed resolutely, pushing some of her sweaty hair out of her face. She leaned in to kiss the air on each side of Alex's face. "I really need to turn off my brain."
Her legs were suddenly attacked by a little golden dachshund, and she squealed with excitement. "Leooo!" She lifted the puppy up and kissed his face while he attempted to lick her just as aggressively. He had chewed his leash to shreds, she saw. Poor Alex was dealing with him all alone up here.
"Where is Arthur?" she asked, looking around and not spotting her youngest elder brother.
