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  Isabella thought about what it was like to be a celebrity and had no doubt about it: nope, it wasn’t for her, all the attention would drive her mad.

  She considered herself a determined, brave woman but she was sure that all the pressure would make her falter. What would it be like to be constantly under other people’s scrutiny? Of course, most of the famous people learned how to ignore that sort of criticism- it was necessary to live a healthy, stable life – but surely it would be a stressful process for Isabella. She liked her privacy, so very much and desperately tried to keep it all to herself, despite her nosy extended family.

  Hillary and her stepped aside and waited, as the photographers took shots of the lovely couple that were Mr. and Mrs. Johnson’s. They were all smiles and kept waving at people in the crowd.

  Isabella held on tight to her camera and took a picture herself. The couple was so glamorous and happy, she really wanted to put a photo of them on the blog.

  Then she let the camera dangle from her wrist. Luckily, tonight she was carrying a small camera with her, that fitted perfectly in her little bag.

  Mr. Johnson and his wife stepped in the venue and Hillary and Isabella waited on the side of the entrance.

  “Aren’t we going in, too?” Isabella wondered.

  “Oh yes, but we must wait for Noah and Christopher” Hillary answered waving her hand to someone in the crowd. She didn’t look at Isabella as she spoke, her eyes were fixed on screaming fans and on the cars pulling over to let people out. Her hair looked perfect that way, all tied back and her makeup suited her dress perfectly.

  She was wearing a vanilla yellow pencil dress above her knees and her eyes had a little yellow, golden glitter around them. Isabella on the other hand, had decided to skip the dress thing for that night and opted for a long skinny leg jumpsuit, the same shade of Christopher’s green eyes. It had a V neck that went all the way down to her cleavage but she had avoided a scandal with a small tank top underneath and had styled the jumpsuit with bronze sandals.

  The air was a little crisp now that they were outside and she wished she had taken her mother’s endless suggestion: always bring a jacket.

  She watched Hillary scan the outside of the venue, as if she was looking for someone. Probably for Noah and Christopher. Suddenly her eyes stopped searching and rested on a tall man walking on the red carpet, hand in hand with a forty something woman with short brown hair. Mr. Jenkins had just walked out of a car with who Isabella presumed to be his wife.

  “You are totally working that dress” Isabella said, pretending to stare in the crowd too, just as Noah’s car pulled up and he stepped out with a leggy red head, his long term girlfriend Michelle Warner. She was a singer/ actress wannabe.

  Isabella looked to the side, to see if she had managed to distract Hillary, and saw that she had looked down at her dress and was smiling at her.

  “Thanks. I’m loving that look on you, too. Hoping to pick somebody up tonight?” she winked and smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Or maybe Isabella was just seeing things that weren’t really happening. Maybe she had misread the whole thing at the airport. At least that’s what she was hoping. For Hillary, more than for any other reason.

  “All I want is to enjoy my real first red carpet event and take great pictures and have a lot of cool things to post tomorrow”

  While they spoke, Noah was on the red carpet, looking very smart, with a hint of a smile on his face, which was something he rarely seemed to ‘wear’ in public. It was such an event to see him smile, that Isabella took a few pictures of the driver and his glamorous date. Just to make sure the smile really happened, she laughed to herself.

  Then he waved in their direction and walked over to say hello to Hillary and Isabella.

  “Good evening ladies” he said looking from one to another, while his girlfriend looked a little annoyed that they had stepped out of the spotlight.

  Michelle waved briefly at them but didn’t speak a word. She kept looking around, wanting to walk near the screaming crowd and the photographers again. She tilted her head back a few times, hoping to get another flash from the paparazzi’s.

  “Are you ready for the press?” Hillary asked then, bubbly as usual.

  “I can’t wait” Noah said with a face that said the exact contrary. Isabella startled. Was that sarcasm from Noah? Wow, his personality was slowly coming out and with a hint of emotion, too.

  The crowd was getting louder and louder, as famous people began to approach the red carpet. That was when Christopher stepped out of a dark car, dressed in black, with a gray fitted shirt underneath. His hair was styled with gel and he had his usual hint of beard, that made him look so incredibly sexy. A bowtie was wrapped around his neck, giving him that extra hot credit.

  Isabella swallowed hard and tried to quiet her pounding heart. She felt it beat in her throat at every step he took forward on the red carpet. He was alone, no date, no top model, no Spanish singer.

  Christopher was all smiles, he was saying hello to everyone and looked confident and relaxed. He seemed to recognize many people out there, but when his eyes met Isabella’s, she was all he could see. He never took his eyes off her until he reached her and Hillary.

  “Hi” he said to everyone.

  “Nice of you to show up” Noah mumbled.

  “I was waiting for you to get out of your car first. You know important people show up late” They shook hands in a cool friendly manner and Isabella wondered how long they could keep the friendship going. How dirty was it going to get on track?

  “Time to face the press before we walk in” Hillary said, getting back to business. She walked to the left and spoke to both Noah and Christopher about the potential questions and how to answer in a neutral manner.

  ‘How is the car?’ ‘The engineers and mechanics have been doing a great job’ and so on. She then went on to announce which journalist was from which newspaper or TV channel. It was time to get to work.

  Isabella took her time to take photos of them, as she walked next to Michelle, who seemed not to notice her at all. She was too busy enjoying the looks the crowd gave her.

  On the contrary, Isabella wasn’t so confident having all those people staring at her.

  They were probably wondering who was that nobody, walking amongst those somebodies.

  A nobody with at least three kg more and ten centimeters less, than these somebodies!

  Between a toast and an entrée, Christopher managed to go up and speak to Isabella. She was standing at the side of the room, taking pictures of the event and recording some of the speeches.

  He went up to her in the middle of an award: some executive manager of a very important company in Sidney was being celebrated for his exceptional work.

  As the guests quieted to listen to his speech, Christopher leaned on the wall next to her and whispered in her ear, making her startle.

  “How are you?” he asked casually. He kept his eyes on the room, trying to look as relaxed as possible, even though it was hard not to give away the happiness to be finally standing next to Isabella.

  She turned to the side and looked at him for just a second, smiling. Then her index finger brushed against her full lips, asking him to be silent, as she was recording the speech of the winner on stage.

  “I can’t” he whispered.

  Isabella gave him a puzzled look, waiting for him to explain his brief sentence, but he remained quiet and held her stare until she spoke.

  “You can’t what?” Isabella whispered back.

  “I can’t be quiet. I haven’t spoken to you since last week and you need me to talk if you want that blog of yours to be a hit” he grinned and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Is that why you left your table, your seat next to Oscar winning Ted Dawson and Australian model Julie Garnett? Because you are concerned about my writing?” her eyebrows went up.

  They were in Australia, they were back working together. Ah, may the flirting begin.

 
“Yup. My second name is Mr. Jenkins” he teased back.

  “Oh no it isn’t. He doesn’t speak to me, he just sends emails without content or subject and with my draft full of corrections” she frowned at the thought.

  Christopher smiled to that, like it was some sort of a private joke and then whispered:

  “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Ted Dawson has bad breath and Julie Garnett wants to have my babies. I need a sassy Italian to save my behind” he said.

  Christopher checked if anyone was looking at them. All eyes were on the stage.

  So he touched her hair and moved the strand that was always in Isabella’s eyes.

  “I should really cut that” she murmured.

  “Don’t do that, otherwise I won’t have an excuse to touch you” his voice was lower now, deeper.

  Isabella turned to look at him, they were now face to face and Isabella was breathless under his intense stare. She felt like he had stripped her of her clothes, like he was trying to break down the walls she had solidly built over the years, to protect herself from men like him. Players.

  Her eyes went back to the room, when people started laughing to the jokes of the man on stage, but she turned back to Christopher instantly.

  “Do you need an excuse to touch me?” she said under her breath.

  Isabella hadn’t meant to flirt so openly with him, but how could she have just wasted an occasion like that? Despite her better judgment, she wanted him so badly. Please, please touch me.

  “No, not really” he smiled wickedly at her. “Let’s go” he took her hand and led her through a service door that was right next to them.

  Isabella looked behind frantically, trying to get a glimpse of the crowd, hoping that nobody had seen them sneak away. Somebody like Hillary or Noah.

  She didn’t have time to scan the room properly, they were out of sight in a few seconds. She could only hope.

  Christopher closed the door behind them and they found themselves in a wide, yellow corridor.

  “Where are we?” she wondered out loud.

  “I haven’t got the faintest idea, luv” he shrugged. “All I wanted was to leave that room.”

  He walked forward curious, searching for a door.

  “Oh of course, because of the actor with bad breath and the clingy model. Right” Isabella reminded herself.

  “Because I want to touch you” he took her hand again and gave her that sexy look of his “Come on, let’s find a place to hide for a while. I swear, if anyone asks me another question about the race, I’ll snap their heads off”

  “Oh that reminds me, anything you want to say about the race on Sunday?” she teased, pretending to hold the recorder, while he dragged them both around a steep turn.

  “Don’t try me, Bresciani” he stopped suddenly. “Kitchens, yes.”

  Before Isabella could point out that the sign on the door said ‘Staff only’, Christopher opened the door and pushed his way through, apologizing to waiters, cooks and chefs who were too busy to stop them, but very, very surprised to see them.

  Isabella was mortified and mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’ all the way to the back of the room, where Christopher stopped in front of yet another door.

  “This should be fine” he opened the door and a voice behind them stopped their steed.

  “Sir, Madam. I have to ask you to leave. This is staff on…” the young man’s mouth dropped open, unable to speak. “You are…” he indicated Christopher.

  “Yes” Christopher smiled at the young cook.

  Judging from his posture, his confidence as he spoke, Isabella could see that he was used to this. Christopher was used to being stopped and recognized by people and the most amazing thing was, it didn’t bother him at all, nor was he arrogant in any way. Not at all, he was very modest for being so popular and always available.

  “It’s such a pleasure, sir. But what are you doing in here, you should be out there” he gestured, pointing at another door. It was large and had like two small windows, where you could see the main room.

  The speeches were still going on, same man talking.

  “I know, but we just need a quiet place where to rest, far from people’s stares and cameras” he smiled and the cook looked over to Isabella, who’s cheeks had of course turned velvet red.

  The smell of hot, steaming food caused her stomach to make a very loud sound grumble, for how empty it was. Isabella touched it and made a face.

  “Are you alright?” Christopher asked immediately.

  “Yeah, I just haven’t had any food at all since this morning” she made an apologetic face.

  “I’ll get you something, Ms. You can go through that door” the young man pointed to the one Christopher wanted to open in the first place and disappeared.

  As they entered what looked like a fire escape exit, the man was back with a plate of canapés and other delicious finger food.

  “Thank you” Isabella smiled at him warmly.

  The young man blushed and went towards the kitchen door, but Christopher called him back.

  “What’s your name?”

  “John, Mr. Taylor”

  “Nice to meet you John and thank you for letting us stay. Can we ask you one last favor?”

  “Of course, anything. I am a big fan” he looked excited but a little anxious to get back inside, as chaos filled the kitchen. The main course was on the stove, time to go in and make oneself useful.

  “Can you call us, or even knock on the door if you are too busy, when the speeches are over? I guess that’s when you’ll bring the main course in”

  “Sure” he nodded and dashed in but came back immediately. “I hope to see you win the race Sunday.” And then he was out of sight again.

  Chapter 13

  Isabella slowly took bites of her food. Christopher had handed her the plate and was looking at her, not saying one word as she tasted the delicious bits of heaven John had brought her. She didn’t even realize that he was looking at her until her hunger had settled a little.

  To be true, she was thinking of how good Christopher was with people. Most athletes, celebrities, actors had a terrible relationship with the public, but it seemed all so natural for him. Probably because he was born into it.

  “What?” she asked sweetly, her head to the side.

  “Nothing, I was just thinking they look delicious” he sat next to her on the stairs and then leaned back, resting on his elbows.

  “Would you like some?” she took a small canapé with smoked salmon and anchovies.

  “I was talking about your lips”

  Isabella’s eyes grew wide, while her lips curled up into a big smile. What a flirt.

  Before Isabella could say anything back, Christopher leaned forward and kissed her softly, his hands cupping her face.

  He took a step back, to look into her honey brown eyes- pleasure written all over them- and then gently rubbed her lower lip with his thumb.

  “Absolutely delicious” he said.

  Then, Christopher took a canapé from the dish and slowly chewed the delicious food, with a soft smile on his lips.

  “How’s home?” he asked a few instants later.

  Isabella had resumed eating, even though she was still a little lightheaded from Christopher’s kiss.

  When he spoke to her, she put down the empty plate and covered her mouth, until she had finished chewing.

  They had nibbled the tasty food together, in silence and now all she could think of was the possibility of having crumbles –or worse, cream- on her face. Please let me be clean.

  “It was okay” she flinched, thinking how disappointed she had been for not having a chance to speak to Salvo, how Angela hadn’t picked up her phone calls. Most of all, she flinched at the thought Christopher hadn’t called her, not one single time.

  “How bad was it?” Christopher searched her face. “You are not smiling, which means it couldn’t possibly have been good”

  Isabella tilted her head and rested her face
on her hand, her elbow on her knee.

  “You know me too well already” she hinted at her inability to fake her emotions.

  “Not as much as I would like to” he said and he smiled to the side.

  Isabella held his stare for a few seconds and then shook her head, only to look back at him. What a player. Was he playing though? Was it a game worth playing for Isabella?

  “How was your break?“ Isabella asked, trying to change the subject, even though deep down all she wanted to ask was why hadn’t he called for her.

  “Great. I just spent some time with my mother and prepared for this week’s race” he said happily.

  And you probably slept with that Spanish woman you took pictures with at that event. Instead she said:

  “Any last minute advice from your mother?”

  “Yeah, the usual. Be careful” he shook his head. “One would think she would be used to it by now”

  Isabella nodded. But she couldn’t blame the woman, after what happened to her husband. It must have been hard for her, to have to deal with it every time her son got in a race car.

  “So, off the record, ready for this season’s first qualifying session?” Isabella asked with a huge grin on her face.

  “Are you trying to piss me off like the press with obvious questions?” Christopher said, smiling again.

  Isabella looked so hot in that jumpsuit, it made it hard for him to breathe in that small stairwell. Her hips were wrapped tight in it and waist up it was very loose, but a little see-through, enough to make his mind wonder.

  Isabella tilted her head back and covered her mouth, as she broke into a laugh.

  “No, come on I am genuinely interested. How does it feel?”

  “It’s going to be hard this season. So many great drivers out there, some young some older, but I am not stepping aside without a fight, a good fight” he was determined, Isabella could hear it in his tone how passionate he was of his life. “My body is ready, my mind is keen. I am like a kid who can’t wait to play his favorite game”

  “You like to play games don’t you?” she said and the minute it escaped her mouth, she regretted it.