m ♡

May in Florida felt like you were walking on the surface of the sun. It was hot and sticky, the humidity wreaking havoc on your hair and your attitude. The moment you had stepped out of the hotel that morning, it had puffed up like a scared tabby cat. By the time you reached the store where the Quadrant pop up shop was that weekend, you’d already needed to tame it into submission with a giant claw clip and a prayer. 

“We should probably have a few of the interns hand out the water I had delivered yesterday to the people standing in line.” You say to Max Fewtrell as you walk into the store early that morning. “The last thing we need are social media posts about how fans fainted waiting to meet Lando Norris today.” 

Max nods and gives you a cheeky salute. “On it, Boss Lady.” 

You roll your eyes, heaving a sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you, Fewtrell? Stop calling me ‘Boss Lady’. I’m younger than you are.” 

Max grins wickedly as he walks towards the front of the store where a few interns stand catting. “I’ll stop calling you Boss Lady when you stop bossing me around.” 

“If I don’t boss you around, nothing would ever get done." You fire back. "You were the one who gave me the title of ‘PR Director’ two years ago, weren't you?” 

“And I regret it every day.” Max grumbles, dodging the pen you throw at his head from across the room. 

“We’d be lost without YN and you know it, Max." From behind you, Lando Norris comes sauntering through the back door flanked by his body guard Rich and Keegan Palmer. 

You gesture at Lando while glaring at Max, “See! At least someone around here appreciates my type-A personality.” 

Lando slings an arm around your shoulders and it takes every bit of will power you have not to shudder under his touch. “How’s my favorite girl doing this morning?” He asks, flashing you a flirty smile. 

Aiming an elbow at his ribs, you quickly duck under his arm when he flinches. You swear you hear Lando mutter something about how you're a feral animal.

“I’d be doing a lot better if it wasn’t already 32* outside at 10 in the morning. I swear to God, it feels like the surface of the sun out there.” 

Lando wanders over to a display of new hoodies that were a special pop up feature. “Well, it’s a good thing that this place has air con then, yeah?” 

“Yeah, air con that is going to quit working the moment we get all of those people in here.” You snip, smoothing the front of your shirt as if Lando’s arm hadn’t just sent your pulse into a tailspin. “Now, quit touching the display. I spent three hours last night getting those to look right and your giant paws are going to ruin my aesthetic.” 

Lando huffs a laugh but obeys, pulling his hand away from the display. “Sassy this morning, aren’t we pretty girl?” 

“You’re a HR violation waiting to happen, you know that?” You glare at him over the edge of your iPad. 

“I’m the personality hire, everyone knows that.” Lando says easily, thumbing through a rack of Quadrant branded joggers. 

You heave a sigh, turning to Keegan. “Can you please keep the personality hire away from the limited edition drops until the doors open? He’s like a toddler in a sandbox, destruction follows him around like a moth to a flame.” 

“Hey! I’m the face of this brand!” Lando protests, retreating towards the front window to check out the ever-growing line that snaked down the sidewalk.  

“And I’m the one responsible for making sure your brand doesn’t end up as a Harvard Business School case study.” You call after him, turning your attention back to the iPad in your hands. “Max! Are all of the tablets synced? If the POS system crashes during the first hour, I’m jumping off the nearest bridge.” 

Max shouts something back about dramatics and shark infested waters, but the retort is cut short when Lando unleashes a string of several choice expletives.

Looking up, you see Lando has gone still, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stares at something outside. His entire body language shifts in a moment, the playful, flirty energy evaporating in a blink. You exchange a worried glance with Keegan and Max before taking a few steps to stand next to Lando. 

“Lan? Hey, Lan? We open in five minutes, is everything okay? If you’re having a crisis about the hoodie colors, I will actually strangle-” 

“YN.” He whispers, his voice tight. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you see how pale your friend has gone in the last thirty seconds. “Look at that black SUV across the street. Behind that blue truck. What do you see?” 

You step closer to the window, squinting against the harsh Florida sun. At first, all you see are fans dressed in various shades of neon green and papaya. And then you spot her and your stomach drops into your shoes. 

Hovering near the corner, wearing oversized sunglasses and looking entirely too pleased with herself, was Lando’s ex-girlfriend. She was talking to a photographer, one you instantly recognize as a freelancer who specialized in ‘candid’ celebrity sightings that got sold off to TMZ and Tattler. She wasn’t just there randomly, she was waiting, setting up a story that she was going to try to sell to the highest bidder. 

“Is that…?” Max started, joining you both at the window. 

"What is she doing here?” Lando breathes, his fingers tightening around the phone in his hand.

You all knew the answer to that, even if no one said it out loud.

Magui was having a particularly hard time accepting their breakup this time around. It drove you nuts, but her and Lando had been on and off over and over for several years now. Theirs had been the epitome of a toxic situationship that had been hard launched almost by accident when Lando won the Championship in December. It hadn’t lasted, just as you had predicted, and by the end of January, they were off again.

This time, Lando insisted it was for good. 

And then Magui had shown up at that football match, somehow wrangling a ticket for the same suite from some unsuspecting brand representative that didn’t know the history she shared with the McLaren driver. She’d also conveniently managed an invite from Max’s girlfriend Pietra to Portugal a few weeks later, showing up in the exclusive resort where Lando owned a house. She’d dropped several not-so-subtle hints on social media that implied she was with Lando since, despite that not even being remotely close to the truth. 

Lando turns to you then, the panic in his eyes evident. The ‘face of the brand’ was gone, his confidence of the last few moments drained from his face. You knew the moment they opened those doors, she’d be on him like a fly to honey and by lunch, the internet would be convinced that they were a couple again. This was the very last thing you needed today during the very public, very popular brand pop up that you’d been hyping up on socials for weeks now. 

Your heart clenched fiercely at the look of panic that fluttered across your friend’s face. You knew that their relationship had been dysfunctional, bordering on toxic by the end. You knew that neither party was innocent in the breakup, that Lando shared a lot of the blame for that relationship not working out. You also knew Lando was a certified people pleaser and if Magui wiggled her way into the shop that morning, Lando wouldn’t do anything to embarrass her. He’d let the narrative take off and it would get embarrassing for everyone involved. Again. 

And she knew it.

“She’s going to make a scene.” Lando says, his chest rising and falling a little too fast. “She’s going to come in here and I can’t — I can’t do this. Not today, YN.” 

You turn to Max, brow creased. “How did she even know Lando was going to be here? He was supposed to be a surprise for the first few guests that come in. We didn’t post about it anywhere and for good reason!” 

Max pales and you have to quell the urge to strangle him. 

“Did you tell Pietra?" You hiss, watching as Magui crosses the street. 

Max doesn’t answer, just runs a hand through his hair.

“Oh my God, Max! Come ON!” You sigh, watching with renewed horror as the photographer follows her across the street, camera poised and ready to go. 

Max winces, rubbing at the back of his neck. “P and her are…they’re friends, okay? She probably just mentioned the weeks plans off-handedly. I didn’t think she’d actually show up here! Shes supposed to be filming in Spain or something! That's what P told me last night!” 

“You didn’t think?” You take a step forward, your PR training kicking into high gear. “Max, I have two hundred people in line outside and a brand to protect. Get out there and intercept her. Now.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” Max asks, voice thin. 

“Distract her! Be the charming best friend. Tell her Lando is too busy with fans and that he can’t talk right now. Tell her he’ll call her lat — “ 

“I am not calling her later.” Lando interjects and you resist the urge to hit him. 

“I know that!” You cry, throwing your hands up in the air, “I just need her to leave and right now, I’m willing to tell a few lies to get my way, okay?” Lando just nods as you turn back to Max. “Go out there and fix this! Now!” 

Max scrambles towards the door and out into the Miami heat. Through the glass, you all watch Max intercept her with a wide, forced grin as he tries to get Magui to stop her approach into the store. As Max handles the blonde, you turn to Keegan. “Let’s let a few people in early, can you handle that? Just like, 10 people or so?” Keegan nods and you watch as he goes towards the door. 

Finally, you turn to Lando. He’s still staring blankly out the window, watching as Max negotiates with Magui on the sidewalk. “I’m sorry, YN.” He murmurs, crimson painting its way across his cheeks. “I don’t know why she can’t just accept that we didn’t work and move on.” 

Your shoulders drop at the tone of his voice. He sounds so defeated, your chest aches. 

“It’s okay, Lan. We’ll fix this.” You say, running a hand down his arm in an attempt to comfort him. “Come on, Keegan is letting those first few fans in. Let’s go up to the checkout stand. Maybe if we keep you away from the door, she'll get the hint." .

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s do that.” Lando allows you to guide him towards the front of the door. You toss a look at Rich, tipping your head towards the door, hoping that if you post the body guard at the front of the store will deter her even further. Rich nods, understanding the meaning behind your look before he goes to join Keegan at the door. 

“It’s okay. We’ll handle this. You focus on the fans, that's all I need from you. Ash is here to get some content for your socials and I’ll get some content for Quadrant too, okay? Let’s focus on that.” You soothe in Lando’s ear as your hand rests steadily on Lando’s elbow, providing him with something to ground himself to. 

Right before stepping up to the waiting fans, Lando turns to look at you, relief plastered plainly across his face. “Thanks, YN. Really. What would I do without you?” 

You wave off the praise, “Knowing you? Probably cause in international incident involving sushi and a nest full of hornets.” 

f1_gossip_official posted!

341,309 likes f1_gossip_official: lando surprised shoppers early this morning when he showed up for the opening of quadrant's miami pop up ahead of the f1 race this weekend! he was all smiles until a certain portugese blonde was spotted hanging around outside. rumor has it that they broke up earlier in the year, but neither lando or magui have commented on it. they've showed up in the same place and magui has hinted quite a LOT over the last few months that they are together. people at the pop up say that she DIDN'T go into the store though...so what do we think??? together or broken up??? user283 this is the most exhausting game of 'are they or aren't they' i've ever played user333 I WAS THERE. she didn't go in but max fewtrell came running out and was talking to her. she had a photographer following her??? and she left shortly after. it was all really weird. >>>user009 omg i was there too! lando looked really upset when i got into the store and YN looked HEATED. >>>user433 i don't doubt it. YN is super protective over lando and the brand, she was probably beside herself. user45 if they're not together anymore, why on earth would M be there this weekend?! how strange user944 they're just super private, you guys. lando is head over heels for magui and they just want their space. not a huge deal, they were at that football match together a few weeks ago, right? and she was at his place in costa terra? >>>user313 yeah, okay magui. user048 i wonder if she's going to be at the race sunday >>>user111 i have a friend who works on the comms team for mclaren. she's causing ALL SORTS of problems and supposedly hasn't been issued a guest pass like YN and Max and the quadrant crew has! >>>user048 omg JUICY

Lando’s hotel suite was a chaotic mess of random fan gifts, crumpled receipts, and discarded team gear. Outside, the Miami skyline sparkled bright and neon, but inside the only sound was the low hum of a tv show neither of you were watching and the scrape of a fork against a plate of lukewarm pasta. You were sitting cross-legged on the velvet sofa, your laptop perched on your knees as you scrolled through that day’s headlines on social media. 

“The fans loved the Quadrant pop-up content.” You say, not looking up from the screen in front of you, though you could feel Lando watching you from the armchair across the coffee table. “But the pap shots of Max and her are already all over Twitter. The gossip pages are having a field day.” 

Lando groans, head tipping back against the chair. He’d showered already but you could still see the exhaustion creeping across his features as he picked at the plate of pasta Jon had told him to order. “I saw. I had to turn my phone off. Every time I see her name, I feel like I can’t breathe. It feels like she’s trying to force me into coming back to her.” 

“She’s certainly good at presenting a convincing narrative to get her way.” You mutter, finally closing your laptop.

You’d meant it as a joke, but seeing Lando this stressed felt heavy. “She knows that if she stays in the frame long enough, people are going to start believing what they’re seeing on socials and that you’ll have no choice but to play along. We need to beat her at her own game.” 

Lando looks at you, his eyes tired. “How? I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cold. I’ve tried ignoring her and then being direct. Nothing works. She refuses to believe it’s over between us.” 

You stretch your legs out in front of you, pointing your toes as you enjoy the burn in your muscles. You’d booked a hot yoga class for tomorrow morning to sweat out all of the stress today had laid at your feet. 

“I don’t know.” You sigh, rubbing at your temples. “At this point, unless you suddenly announce you’re becoming a monk or getting married, I don’t think she’s going to stop until she gets what she wants.” You bark a laugh, cold and bitter as you shake your head. “Maybe we hire someone. How do you feel about fake dating some unknown Swedish model for a month? It works in the movies all the time, doesn’t it?” 

Lando doesn’t laugh. He just stares at you, his thumb tracing the rim of his glass. 

“Not a model.” He says softly and you look up, caught off guard by his tone. 

“Okay, an actress? Someone American maybe?” You joke, knowing that it would never actually work. “We could even put out a casting call! ‘Wanted: One fake girlfriend to deter a persistent ex. Must look good in papaya and be able to tolerate Formula One fans and online gossip.” 

“It should be you.” 

The air in the room stills, suddenly feeling thin. Your brain malfunctions, words becoming too difficult to produce, your heart skipping a beat before slamming against your ribs.

“Very funny.” You say, voice a little too high. "Did the Miami heat damage your two remaining brain cells? Lando, be so for real right now. The press would lose their collective minds faster than you can say Schumacher.” 

“I’m not joking, YN.” Lando leans forward, his elbows on his knees, pinning you with a look that was entirely too serious. “Think about it. We already spend an absurd amount of time together. You started handling my personal PR when you took the director title at Quadrant. You’re always around, albeit in the background. It wouldn’t be totally out of the realm of possibility for us to actually fall for each other.” 

You blink at him, not entirely processing what he was saying. Gripping at the edge of the sofa, your knuckles turn white. “Lando that’s…that’s actually insane. If people find out it’s fake, my entire reputation could be ruined. And if we do, it could get so messy —” 

“It won’t get messy.” He interrupts, standing from his chair before coming to sit next to you on the couch.

You stiffen when you catch a hint of his cologne.

He reaches over, his hand hovering just inches from yours. “We’re friends, we have been for years. There have been rumors about us hooking up for as long as you’ve worked for Quadrant anyway.” 

“There are rumors about you hooking up with anyone that has two X chromosomes and an Instagram account, Lando.” You roll your eyes. 

Lando chuckles softly, shaking his head, “But the rumors about us have been going on for years now. Think about it, we confirm those rumors and she’ll finally get the hint that I’ve moved on. She already knows how close we are, it wouldn’t be too hard for everyone to believe we're actually dating.” 

You look at his hand that covers yours, then up at him.

“Strictly for PR?” You manage to whisper, your shield finally starting to crumble. 

Lando’s gaze drops to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Whatever you need it to be.” He says. “Just say you’ll help me. I can’t do a repeat of what happened this morning.” 

The silence that stretches after Lando’s plea for help feels so heavy, you could feel it settle in your chest.

You know you should say no. You should tell him that he needs to sleep this off and you’d both figure out a different strategy in the morning. You should tell him this was the stupidest idea he’d ever come up with and you'd be dumber than a box of rocks if you agreed. 

Instead, you reach for your notebook. 

“If we’re going to do this — and I am still ninety five percent sure this is actually the dumbest thing I've ever agreed to— we’re going to do it with structure.” You say, your voice regaining that professional edge you wore like a suit of armor. “We need ground rules. Hard boundaries. We aren’t just going to wing this and see what happens, that will guarantee failure, and I don’t do failure.” 

Lando leans back, a small, triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Structure. Right, of course. Where would we be without your structure, YN? Go on then, pretty girl. What’s rule number one?” 

Your pen scratches at the paper in your lap. “Rule number one: the romantic relationship happens in public only." Lando lifts a brow. “When we’re alone and behind closed doors, I am Quadrant’s PR Director, not your girlfriend.” 

You practically choke on the word ‘girlfriend’. 

“Fine.” Lando says, nodding. “What else? I know you’ve got a list for me a mile long.” 

“Rule number two: We don’t tell anyone that this is fake.” 

Lando shifts his weight and frowns, “Not even Max?” 

You huff a laugh, “Especially not Max. He would tell P and P would go running straight to her and it would blow up in our faces in ten seconds. And if the truth gets out, we’re both in for a nightmare of press attention that we’ll have difficulty coming back from.” 

Lando’s gaze drops to his lap as he considers. “Okay. Yeah, I get that. He couldn’t even keep today’s appearance a secret. He’d crack under the pressure.” 

“Exactly.” You nod, scribbling down the second rule in your notebook. 

“I have a few rules then.” 

You raise a brow, “You do?"

Lando nods. “Rule number three: you have to attend more races this season. Not as Quadrant’s PR director but as my girlfriend.” 

“Lando, I have a job!” You cry, shaking your head. “I can’t just spend all my time jet setting around the world following you around like a puppy!” 

“You have a job that I know for a fact allows you to work from anywhere, so that’s not an excuse. You want people to think this is real? Then you have to play the part of supportive girlfriend, babe.” 

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Are we adding my rule to the list?” He challenges. 

“Fine, but you’re footing the bill for all of my extra travel.” You scribble down the third rule reluctantly. “What else? I’m sure you have more ideas on how to torture me with this little charade.” 

Lando smirks, “Rule number four: one public date a week at minimum. PDA and Instagram posts included.” 

“Oh for the love…” You mutter but you’re already jotting down the fourth rule. 

“You know she practically lives inside that phone of hers. If we don’t go out publicly, we won’t be photographed and she won’t see us. If we keep everything off socials, she won’t have any reason to believe I’ve moved on.” 

You hated to admit it, but Lando was right. You knew how chronically online she was and how even a whiff of a new woman in Lando’s life caused a tizzy on Instagram and Twitter. If you wanted to sell this, you were going to have to play along. 

“I have an amendment to that rule I’d like to propose before agreeing.” You say as seriously as you can manage.

“Go on.” He prompts. 

“No over the top PDA. If we’re too in your face with it, people are going to see right through this. We are not two teenagers who can’t keep their hands to themselves.” 

“Speak for yourself.” Lando wiggles his eyebrows, ducking out of the way when you chuck a pillow at his head. “Okay, okay, you win! No over the top PDA.” 

You pause, the tip of your pen stilling on the paper. “I win? You’re not going to argue with me on that one?” 

Lando shakes his head, “Nope. If I overdo it on the PDA, you might fall head over heels in love with me and that would make things very messy.” 

You snort, “You wish.” 

“Maybe."

Your stomach flips but you choose to ignore it and move on.

"Rule number five: no embarrassing pet names are to be used in public.” 

“Now wait a minute, let me stop you right there!” Lando protests, reaching for the pen in your hand. “If I don’t call you by some term of endearment, she’ll never buy it.” 

“And why is that?” You yank the pen back out of Lando’s hand and continue writing out the fifth rule. 

“Because she knows me and how much I love using pet names! Are you at least open to negotiations on this rule?” 

Your eyes flick up to take Lando in. He’s relaxed for the first time all evening, his smile coming easy now, almost as if he’s enjoying himself while torturing you with what you suspect might be flirting. “What did you have in mind?” 

Lando reaches for your notebook and pen again, jotting down a few words. “I propose the following be added to a ‘pet name white list' —” 

“You’re insane, you know that right?” 

“And yet here I am trying to compromise while you’re being the difficult one!” Lando has the audacity to look offended. 

“Go on.” You were going to sprain your eyeballs by the time this was all over with how hard you were rolling them.

“The pet name white list should include the following: baby, babe, pretty girl —” 

“You already call me that.” You interrupt, earning a swat on your hand from the pen in Lando’s hand. 

“I know.” He nods crisply. “And I don’t want to have to stop, so on the list it goes.” 

“Jesus Christ." You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Okay, go on.” 

Lando turns back to the notebook and continues to write. “Love, my love, sweetheart, bunny —” 

“Bunny?” You choke on a laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of what is going on right now. 

“Yeah. You’re soft and cute like a baby bunny.” 

“I hate you.” 

"You really don't though." Lando taps the tip of your nose with his index finger, which you immediately try to bite at before he can move his hand to safety.

Unfortunately, you miss. 

“Be careful or I’m adding ‘my little piranha’ to the list.” He warns smugly.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes.

“Watch me.”

All you can do is sigh.

“Is that it?” You ask after a beat, making a move to rescue your notebook from the psycho sitting next to you. 

"I think so, but can we put in a clause that we can amend the list at a later date if something strikes my fancy?” 

You shake your head, looking skyward. “Why did I agree to this? You know what? Fine. Pet name list renegotiation clause approved.” 

Lando scoots a little closer to you on the couch and you fight the urge to move away from him. The way his cologne has your pulse thrumming was making you nervous.

“I think that’s a pretty extensive rule list. Is that it?” 

You shake your head, “No, I have one more rule. The Escape Rule: If either of us catches real feelings for the other at any time, we immediately call this entire thing off. No questions asked, no hurt feelings. We go right back to being just friends and colleagues. We can’t let this ruin us, okay?”  You turn to him then, eyes pleading for agreement on this.

Lando’s expression shifts, the light in his eyes dimming just a fraction. He looks like he’s going to argue, to say something about how that would never happen, that nothing could ruin what you two had but in the end, his shoulders just droop slightly. He didn’t want to seem needy and he certainly didn’t want to admit that the ‘real feelings’ part was the only reason he’d suggested this in the first place. 

“Right. No feelings or we call it off.” He repeats, the words sounding a bit hollow. “Agreed.” 

You snap the notebook shut with a sense of finality. “Right then, it looks like you have a deal, Mister Norris.”