Zandvoort. It was just another busy morning in the paddock. The familiar buzz of the mechanics, the drivers running through their prep routines, and the team members hustling around. I was trying to get through the crowd, keeping my head down and focused—nothing new. My mind was racing with everything that needed to get done for the weekend, but I didn’t notice her until it was too late.

I turned a corner, glancing at my phone for a split second, and bam!

I felt a soft collision and heard a small gasp. The next thing I knew, I was staring at a spilled cup of coffee all over the girl standing in front of me. The hot liquid dripped down her shirt, and I immediately saw her face turn pale as she stared at the mess I had made.

“Oh my God! Lando, I am so, so sorry!” she stammered, her hands flying up to her chest as she frantically tried to stop the coffee from dripping further down her clothes. “I didn’t even see you, I wasn’t looking—oh no, your shirt!”

“Wait, wait!” I immediately took a step forward, trying to calm her down. “It’s totally my fault! I wasn’t watching where I was going either.” I looked at her with a sheepish grin, not knowing exactly how to fix this, but trying to at least offer some comfort.

She blinked rapidly, still panicking. “I—I didn’t mean to… Oh my God, I can’t believe I spilled coffee all over you.”

“Look, it’s really okay,” I said, giving her an awkward smile. “But, um, you definitely deserve a new shirt. How about we head over to McLaren’s hospitality? I’ll get you cleaned up, and we can grab a coffee—no more spills, I promise!”

Her eyes went wide as she processed what I said. “You sure?”

I nodded, still trying to make sure she wasn’t freaking out too much. “Yeah, I'm sure.” I pointed at the McLaren building just a few steps away. “Come on, let me make it up to you. I’m sure we’ve got something in there that will fit you.”