Counterpoints Book 3 Page 16

  “I love this weather” Hillary said, face up towards the sun. A wide smile spread under her black shades.

  “Hillary, I’d like to introduce you to ‘summer’, ‘summer’ this is Hillary. She hardly knows you exist, because she is British” Isabella grinned and did the same. She looked up at the sunny sky and closed her eyes, Hillary’s giggling covered by the sound of the cars going by.

  The sun felt so good.

  Just two days home and Isabella had already tanned a little, spending most of her free time on the beach with her family and friends, just before her other ‘family’- the MB family- had landed in Rome.

  “Are you staying here for the summer break?” Hillary asked, as five military planes flew above their heads and let out colored smoke, while doing acrobatics in the sky.

  The colors of the Italian flag.

  The crowd clapped and cheered and Hillary joined in.

  “Yeah, I am staying for a while. You?” Isabella shouted over the roar of the engines and clapped, too.

  “I think I am going back to London for a few days but then I’m off to the Greek islands. I so need a holiday, far, far away from Mr. you know who” she looked at Isabella.

  “How are things going?” Isabella dared to ask.

  “Not well. He is being nervous and unreasonable” Hillary said but didn’t add anything about her pregnancy. She eyed Fred and John who were standing next to them, coordinating the mechanical team.

  Who, Mr. accusative and insulting? Nothing new there. Isabella kept her thoughts to herself and simply nodded.

  “I’m having trouble working with him. He wants to get back together, especially now” Hillary shook her head “He has the nerve to say it like he is free, like he is not married. I don’t understand him. Anyway, I am over him”

  “You could stay here with me for a while, it would do you good and you could eat, eat, eat and tan on the beach” Isabella suggested.

  “That is so sweet, thank you but I need some alone time right now. I will visit you though, some over time” Hillary smiled at Isabella. “Can you believe the season is nearly over?”

  “No, I can’t” Isabella shook her head. Where had the time gone?

  She eyed Christopher then, sitting in his car, helmet on, looking determined and concentrated- second in line behind driver Simoncini. Noah had qualified sixth on Saturday and had broken his engine- his team of mechanics had spent all night fixing his car.

  Almost six months had gone by, since Isabella had started working for MB, and it felt like it had all gone by so quickly. In just six months, she had changed houses, changed her life style, changed job, met new friends and Christopher.

  She kept staring at him, still unable to explain how it had been possible for them to become what they were.

  As if It served as a reminder, the girls on track that normally stood next to the drivers, walked off the tarmac just then- in miniskirts and with tops two size smaller than normal- and Isabella tried to shrug off any negative thought.

  Yes, not too long ago, Christopher had dated models – more like slept with models. And now he was with her, a normal girl with a normal figure.

  “And the prettiest ass… I mean freckles, I’ve ever seen” Christopher had told her some time ago, with the sliest of smiles on his face.

  He looks great, Isabella reckoned, seeing him back in the car and adjusting his gloves. Christopher was back, physically and mentally back into shape.

  The nervous Christopher of a few weeks ago had disappeared. Now that everything was out in the open, now that he and Isabella had been honest with each other about their feelings and past, Christopher was back to being himself- at ease, concentrated and determined.

  “I don’t want to be a distraction” Isabella had told him on a number of occasion, while he was training at home.

  “Don’t ever think that. You are not a distraction. Having you here, by my side, makes me focus even more” he had assured her, leaning forward to plant a passionate kiss on her full red lips.

  And Isabella could see that now, checking the screen with the times on the grid. Christopher’s qualifying lap had been almost perfect and Isabella could tell by the soft smile on his lips that Christopher was satisfied for how fast his body had recovered.

  “I feel hungry, hungry for a victory” he had confessed to her after the Friday free practice, while walking over to an autograph session.

  Isabella felt her stomach tighten, as she saw him glance her way, thinking of how it had felt to walk around track with Christopher- hand in hand at times, walking him to the interviews surrounded by photographers and camera men.

  His hand had tightened around hers and a killer smile – his killer smile- had made an appearance under his black shades.

  “Ignore them, signorina. Or do you want me to trip them over?” he grinned then and Isabella giggled, slowly relaxing under his touch.

  Ten minutes to the recognition lap. Isabella read on the screen to the left-hand side of the track.

  “I better head back. My brother is sitting at my work station” Isabella told Hillary.

  He better not be touching anything, Isabella thought.

  Racing was all about rituals, Isabella had come to discover in her almost five months with MB Racing.

  True, the sport was mostly skill and ability- it was about being fast, efficient and ready to react in case of setbacks. What almost nobody saw was the preparation and the rituals behind the scenes.

  It wasn’t just about drivers training and preparation. There was so much more going on in the boxes.

  When the race was about to begin, Isabella didn’t need a clock to remind her how little time there was left until the traffic lights would go off. All she needed to do, was look around her.

  Mechanics of both Noah and Christopher’s team checked their tools and all the spare parts in a systematic and maniacal manner, until everything was double checked and in its exact place- every drawer corresponded to a specific spare part of the car and it included the tools necessary to screw the piece on the vehicle.

  Tires were kept warm with special thermal covers on the side of the car.

  When the beginning of the race was only minutes away, Mr. Johnson would take a seat at his control station, to coordinate and double check that everything was running smoothly with the cars and within the team.

  Hillary would be standing up at that point, too busy checking her schedule, talking to the engineers, to Isabella and Phil, to everyone basically, expect for the drivers.

  It wasn’t a written rule, but everyone knew that drivers were not to be addressed minutes before the race, if not for very important issues, strictly related to the race.

  Usually, Noah would sit in his chair, listening to music, his eyes closed like he was meditating and trying desperately to relax, while Christopher would always walk back and forth – his usual ritual- headphones on, suit halfway down his body, until a few minutes before the beginning of a race.

  But Isabella would be sure that the race was truly about to begin, when Christopher would pick up his phone to say hi to his mother- like he had promised her so many years before, when he had started racing.

  “I have to be realistic” he had said to Isabella once “You never know what will happen.” That was the sign.

  Lights on, drivers start your engines.

  Only this time, there was a new ritual.

  Just before Christopher had walked to his car, he had adjusted his suit, carefully zipping it all the way up, and grabbed his gloves. He had then locked eyes with Isabella and had walked the opposite direction to the car – towards her work station.

  “Can I get a good luck kiss?” Christopher had asked, once he had walked around the counter, over to the stool where she was sitting.

  His hands had slipped down her back and Isabella’s cheeks had turned bright red, the freckles so visible now that she was tanned, they made her face even prettier.

  She had simply nodded, ignoring all the men work
ing in a frenzy around them and had tilted her head up, to welcome Christopher lips- her arms wrapping tight around his neck.

  “Well” she had said, clearing her throat and looking around the box. “I am not sure that was a good luck kiss, but it sure was a pretty, hot one” Isabella had bitten her lower lip and had enjoyed every second of Christopher’s sexy, crooked smile.

  “You are a pretty hot one, signorina” he had smirked.

  In another moment, the two of them alone, he would have lifted her up from the stool and teared apart that sexy uniform she had on, in an instant.

  What was she wearing that day? A skirt.

  Even better, he had thought checking out her legs.

  “Stay focused” Isabella had told him, her eyes serious this time.

  She had closed the button on the collar of his tracksuit and had ran her hands on his chest, to smoothen down the front, her hand resting on his heart for a moment longer. “Keep your eyes on the track, your head in that car” she had pressed on and watched him nod, while he had slipped on his grey and blue gloves and the balaclava over his face- his deep green eyes the only thing visible now under the white, fireproof protection.

  “I will. Keep your radio on” he had winked at her and left.

  Isabella had watched him walk away, helmet already on, his pace steady and in control.

  This was his race. He was ready to get back in the car and determined to win.

  Interesting new ritual Christopher, Isabella thought to herself, as her eyes never left him until Christopher had driven out of the box, ready for his warm up lap.

  That was the moment when people in uniforms would start running back to the boxes, darting to their positions. The race was about to begin.

  From deep down in the box where she was sitting, Isabella could see everything, hear everything and take in the excitement of the race. The smell of the fuel being burned, as the cars were set to life, the sound of the tires being screwed on the car.

  It had grown on her, the frenzy and the adrenaline of it all.

  Christopher had been right about adrenaline. It was addictive.

  Yes, Isabella realized there were certain rituals to the sport, signals of war that was about to begin between teams and a promise that every single driver would do everything in his power, to show how strong he was, to show the whole world who was number one.

  I’ll use this for my blog post today, Isabella thought as she typed in her considerations.

  She checked what she had just written and felt pleased with it. Hopefully fans would appreciate the insight from the MB box and feel even more part of the show.

  “What are you up to?” Marco’s voice sounded from behind her shoulder.

  “I just finished writing something” Isabella pressed post and then closed her laptop.

  A couple of photos were already up, the race had begun half an hour ago, Christopher was leading and the first blog post was up.

  Everything’s running smoothly.

  She was good for half an hour or so. “Did you go get something to eat?” she asked her brother.

  “Yeah, I was starving. It’s so cool, I bumped into Ben Kingsley”

  “Who?” Isabella asked, with no idea who the man was.

  “Oh my God. You don’t know him? He was a driver in the Third Category Racing a few years ago. Now he is a sports journalist” Marco looked at her in shock.

  “Sorry, I never heard of him” she raised her hands up and laughed.

  “I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that. I should be doing your job” Marco grunted and shook his head.

  “You are a terrible writer” Isabella raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Whatever, listen I saw this woman in the café. She saw my MB badge and asked me If I could tell you she was there. Her name is Camilla, I think” Marco scratched his head.

  “Oh, really?” Isabella sat up a little.

  “Yeah, she told me to ask you, if you want to grab a coffee with her. She’s there now” Marco took a seat in front of the screen again and put his hands in his hair. “Oh man” he mumbled, seeing Noah do a half spin at the fifth curb. Within seconds, Noah managed to straighten the car and drive back on the tarmac.

  “I don’t know If I can go now” Isabella looked for Hillary. She needed to ask her boss first.

  “Shhh, I don’t care. Go tell her yourself, I am watching the race” Marco kept his eyes glued to the screen and grinned, knowing her sister would be mad at him for snapping back at her like that.

  “Watch it, kid. I got you the pass, I can take it away” Isabella pointed at him and then winked.

  Then, Isabella went looking for Hillary.

  “Yes, go ahead darling. See you soon” Hillary reassured her.

  The coffee place was just a two-minute walk from the MB box. Isabella showed her badge a few times at the security checks and then made her way to the entrance of the place.

  It was busy as usual, being the only facility accessible from the boxes. Isabella looked around and saw a parade of colored uniforms.

  At the far end of the counter stood Camilla, leaning on the surface with her arms and elbows, holding a cup of long coffee. She was talking to the guy behind the counter, a wicked smile on her lips and she was nodding to his words. Her blonde thin hair was falling out from her small bun, her hair too short to hold it all in place.

  “Ciao” she straightened up at the sight of Isabella.

  “Ciao Camilla” they shook hands and decided to take a seat at one of the tables in the café.

  Once Isabella had ordered a fresh pineapple juice and they had run out of pleasantries, Camilla started asking her questions about her job.

  “So, how are things going? Is Mr. Jenkins still on your back?” Camilla wondered, suppressing a smile.

  “Things are going well. He’s still very controlling but I am learning how to let it wash over me” Isabella muttered the words, hoping Camilla would believe her.

  She really was trying to ignore the pressure Mr. Jenkins was putting on her and Hillary all the time, but everything had changed since that private conversation they had had in London, at that cafe in Bond Street. It had gone way beyond work, it had become personal.

  “Good, good for you” Camilla nodded. “I’ve asked you because I haven’t had a chance to speak to you lately or even bump in to you. I haven’t been present at every race weekend”

  “Oh, is everything okay with you?” Isabella asked and then checked her clock. She had been gone for ten minutes, she had to head back soon.

  “Yes, everything is fine but I am just so tired of this life. I’ve been doing it for too long. I am going to stop this year, there is already someone doing my job now, I just supervise so that everything runs smoothly. I’m looking for another job” she smiled confidently “And I think I’ve found something but it’s nothing certain yet”

  “Well, all the best of luck. I am sure you won’t have any problems” Isabella reassured her.

  “Thank you” Camilla checked her watch too. “How’s Christopher? Did he really recover from the accident in Berlin?”

  Isabella nodded and lowered her eyes for a moment.

  Every time someone mentioned the accident, the images of him hitting the barriers- parts of the car tearing off- would play in her head and make her heart stop for an instant.

  “He’s doing great”

  “Are you guys seriously dating?” Camilla smirked and Isabella let out a nervous laugh.

  “So it would seem”

  “Well, congratulations. He’s a nice man” Camilla smiled again “Listen, the reason I wanted to speak to you privately is that I have a preposition for you”

  Isabella sat up and listened very carefully.

  “This new career I am after, I can’t talk about it until it’s real, you know. But if It does become real, I need someone like you by my side, someone who knows her stuff, knows how to write and has a good impact on social networks and blogs. I am going freelance now, as a journalist an
d photographer, so I need someone I can trust. I need somebody that can proof read stuff and support my work. Are you under contract for next year?”

  “Well” Isabella shook her head “my contract ends in November, as soon as the championship is over and I still don’t know if it will be renewed or not. I am really honored that you, a person who is considered a legend in the field, has thought of me as assistant. Thank you so much, but I still don’t know what I will be doing next year” Isabella shrugged a little surprised by Camilla’s offer.

  I actually don’t know what she is offering, Isabella admitted to herself, but it surely did feel an honor to be considered for a position by a veteran in Communication and Marketing like Camilla.

  Over the years, she had done the impossible. Camilla had worked her way up, she had been part of the sport, witnessed the evolution of First Category Racing and been an excellent photographer and press agent.

  It truly is an honor.

  “That’s all I needed to know for now. We can talk about it again, maybe once we get back to London. I’ll make you a business preposition, that you can valuate before signing up with MB for another year.” Camilla stood up and shook her hand.

  Chapter 14

  It was so hot in the car, Christopher felt like his face was on fire.

  “Last two laps, Christopher. You are doing excellent mate” Robert reassured him on radio.

  The car slid on the tarmac, just as Christopher drove out of the second curb and he cursed under his breath.

  “Damn it. How are the brakes doing?” he asked and Robert was quick to answer.

  From his control station, both brakes and tires were a little overheated, Robert admitted but it was normal. The temperature was going up as the race ended, it had been sunny all day.

  “Just keep the car on the trajectory and easy on the brakes. You are good”

  “Okay” Christopher said, driving into a set of fast curbs.

  On a city track like the one in Rome, where the city streets themselves were the circuit, there were no escape routes, no grass, nowhere to safely drive on, If the car lost control. It was only barriers and it was hard to overtake, with little space to drive through.