Counterpoints (Counterpoints #1) Page 17

  Christopher finished his second lap and returned to the boxes. The first session was over. By the time he entered the boxes, Isabella and Phil were gone with their tripods, lenses and cameras. The look of disappointed for not seeing her there, washed off his face when he checked the screen and saw that he was first. He had been the fastest on track, followed by a very fast Noah. He was only a half a second behind him.

  Christopher turned to look at Noah -who he realized had been staring at him from his car - and waved. But Noah kept staring, without waving back. The season had officially began.

  When the second qualifying session started, Isabella and Phil were all set at turn number three. Isabella waited for Hillary to tell her when the drivers left the boxes. She fixed her headphone in one ear and waited for news.

  It was Saturday but the stands were packed with people. Families and friends were sitting, enjoying the sun and the challenge on track.

  Isabella hadn’t realized how much the sport mattered in Australia, until she had seen the number of fans that came around, to support their favorite teams and drivers. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly.

  “Hi, you must be Isabella” said a voice next to her. She turned and saw Camilla Harrison, Chiellini’s press agent and head of communication, setting up her equipment with Chiellini’s official photographer –who apparently knew Phil- to Isabella’s right.

  “Yes that’s me. And you are Camilla Harrison, it’s a pleasure” they shook hands and then returned to their tasks.

  “Pleasure is all mine” she said while changing lenses to one of her cameras. She gave her photographer some instructions then added “How is it going so far?”

  “It’s going great, thanks. Must be weird seeing me do what you were doing last year”

  “Yes, it is” she smiled “Only you’ll be doing a lot more job than me. I read your blog. It’s really good”

  Normally Isabella didn’t give in to flattery, especially when it came from people she didn’t know, because most of the time it was just talk, there was no truth to it. But Camilla’s comment had seemed honest enough, so she smiled and thanked her for her kindness.

  Camilla gave her a single nod and then faced the track again. Her short blond hair were dancing in the warm breeze and she kept her green eyes -big and curvy like only cat’s have- on the tarmac, anxious to get a good shot at the Chiellini drivers.

  “How are you getting on with Mr. Jenkins?” she raised her eyebrows and Isabella immediately understood the tone in her voice. Of course he had probably been an asshole with her, too. Still Isabella didn’t want to talk about him with a stranger. It wasn’t like her and it certainly wasn’t very professional.

  “Okay”

  “Okay? Oh boy, you are a lot more in control of your emotions than I was” she laughed and tilted her head back. It was a warm, funny laugh that made Isabella smile.

  If what Hillary had told her were true, Camilla had one hell of an attitude and had been in conflict with Mr. Jenkins from day one. Isabella on the other hand, was of a more patient, calmer nature but, if pushed to the edge, she would give way to her frustration. It won’t be a pretty sight to see.

  “I do my best to keep things under control. But it’s not easy” she sighed.

  Just yesterday she had sent Mr. Jenkins some pictures and another blog entry – a very short one- and he had sent a very detailed email, that said he didn’t like the choice of pictures nor her entry and she would have to send him another draft, ASAP.

  In the end, by the time she sent it all over again, went to dinner with Hillary, came back to the hotel, it was midnight when she got his corrections – again!- and had a chance to post them. The whole process was very tiring. It was like being censured. Isabella was so stressed, she had started to feel insecure of her work, like she was a rookie all over again.

  “I know it isn’t. Just don’t take too much shit from him. He is a sad man. It’s a fact” she affirmed and something in her expression told Isabella that he must have had quite a few goes at her. And vice versa.

  “I won’t” she said, not knowing what to say really.

  Isabella tied her long hair in a ponytail and put her sunglasses over her head. She saw the first cars approach and that meant that the second session had just begun. A second later, Hillary’s voice sounded in her ears.

  “Christopher and Noah both exited the box at the same time”

  Isabella excused herself from Camilla, who was waiting with the camera firmly in her hands, and took her place next to Phil, near the edge of the curve, waiting for the two MB cars to approach.

  Isabella was back at the boxes as soon as she was satisfied with the pictures she and the photographer had taken. She flashed her badge at the security check and strode in, taking her place next to a rather nervous Hillary.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “The guys are so close to one another, Noah is leading at the moment. They are coming back in, I think” she bit her finger nails.

  Isabella checked the screen. They were respectively first and second on the grid so far. Chiellini was there, right behind them with Australian superstar driver less than a second away from Christopher.

  When the cars arrived, the mechanics rushed to help them in.

  Christopher was the first to park the car. He looked straight ahead as he checked his own screen for the results. He looked at the track divided into sections and saw in which parts Noah had been quicker than him.

  Isabella could see him quite well from where she was standing and she wondered if he was disappointed or nervous about the qualification. One of the guys handed him his cup of water.

  Noah was checking his screen too, with a smug look on his face, satisfied with his result. He managed to keep Christopher behind this time around. He looked to the side, searching for Christopher’s stare, but he was too busy checking his results and talking to his engineers.

  They waited for the final qualifying sessions, their tires were being kept warm as usual.

  The third run was so exciting, Isabella thought her head would explode. Noah was out first and Chiellini drivers were both very close, followed by another two teams which also seemed to be very competitive on track, despite the terrible tests’ results in Valencia.

  Three minutes in the session, Noah was first, followed by Chiellini’s Australian driver. That was until Christopher stepped in

  Simultaneously, Noah went back to the boxes.

  In the first two sections, Christopher was the fastest driver of the day. On screen Isabella discovered that he was driving a little under 300 km per hour. She shook her head. These people are crazy, how can you be in your right mind and actually decide to drive something fast as a space rocket on land?

  In the middle part of the track, he was slightly slower, but he picked up speed with a clean drive in the end. He returned to the boxes with a second place on the grid for the next day. Isabella was pleased to see that both MB drivers were ahead of Chiellini’s and couldn’t wait to congratulate herself with them for the excellent start of the season.

  Inside the MB box, the atmosphere was ecstatic. Hands were clapping, people were shaking hands and cheering. It was impossible not to get carried away by the euphoria.

  “You did a great job” Hillary told both Noah and Christopher, after they had stepped out of the cars and taken off their helmets. Isabella could see sweat in Christopher’s hair.

  “Thanks” proud of his results, Noah walked around with a smug smile on his face. “Almost there” he teased Christopher and patted him on the shoulder.

  “Almost” he said, grinning.

  Isabella saw a spark in his eyes, a promise that he would show Noah just how ‘there’ he would be tomorrow, during the race.

  “Okay, time for the press conference. Follow me” Hillary led them all through the corridor and up the stairs, were journalists were taking their places.

  “What’s with the face?” Isabella couldn’t help but whisper to Christopher as the
y walked through crowds of people. He seemed very serious, too serious.

  “Nothing, I was just hoping to be the first on the grid tomorrow” he shook his head and touched her back, letting her step in front of him. “But being second isn’t always a negative thing. Like now for example, when a beautiful woman like you walks in front of me. That’s a happy, ’second place’ moment”

  “Stop it” she blushed and felt a little self-conscious, aware of the fact that those pants she was wearing were a little too tight and made her ass look good. “So you start behind him, so what? I don’t know if you got the memo, but the race is tomorrow. Not today”

  “Bresciani, sarcasms looks so sexy on you” he whispered in her ear when they stepped in the room. They all walked to the left hand side of it and before they parted ways, he added “Are we still on for later?”

  Isabella simply nodded.

  “Wear something casual”

  Before she could ask why or object to anything he had said, he was on the stage, sitting next to Noah and waiting for the questions to flow around the room, leaving Isabella wordless and wondering what Christopher had in mind.

  Chapter 15

  Isabella screamed dramatically, to the top of her lungs. It was a long and ear splitting shriek. Then she looked at Christopher and grinned. He was right by her side, laughing like a kid.

  “You are supposed to scream when it goes down, not when it goes up” he mocked her. The rollercoaster slowly made its way up the slope, making terrible, screeching sounds.

  “I am screaming in anticipation” Isabella closed her eyes, after having looked down. Rule number one, never look down and what do I do? I look down, of course.

  They reached the top and the small yellow train stopped for a few instants.

  “Ready?” he teased, seeing that she still had her eyes closed.

  “Noooo” she answered and opened her eyes, just as the rollercoaster started moving again. Just like that, they were falling, twirling down, as the train took steep turns and loop the loops. Their bodies where thrown quickly to the left, their legs flying through the air, that terrorizing feeling of having nothing under your feet, while a powerful force pushes you back and forth.

  It was amazing, Isabella had never felt so alive in her whole life.

  She joined the other screaming voices, as they entered a tunnel and then dropped down suddenly, in a downhill vortex. Isabella’s hands held on tighter to the barrier that was safely fastened around her chest and shoulders, and closed her eyes. Tight.

  When the rollercoaster stopped, back where it had started, Christopher turned to look at her. Isabella was panting, her cheeks were flushed and her ponytail was loose. She never looked so wonderful, so alive.

  The barriers released them and Isabella turned over to Christopher, sensing his eyes on her. She gave him the best smile she could manage, while her heart seemed to have no intention of slowing down.

  With a swift move Christopher reached to the back of her head and removed the hair band, letting her soft, light brown hair flow down to her shoulders. Isabella swallowed hard.

  “Let’s go” he said taking her hand and helping her out.

  They walked through the funfair, her hand firmly into his. Christopher looked so confident, the way he walked with his other hand in his trousers’ pocket, head up and eyes hiding behind a pair of sunglasses.

  Once off the rollercoaster, he put back his brown straw hat on, too. Isabella giggled a little and covered her mouth, seeing him wear a sort of disguise.

  Or maybe she was still hyper from the rollercoaster ride, she just found it so funny the way he tried to go unnoticed, when he was so handsome it was impossible for any girl to keep her eyes off him. Hat or no hat, sunglasses or no sunglasses.

  “What’s so funny, Signorina? Are you enjoying yourself?” he smiled to the side but kept walking towards the back of the fair, where all the food stands had been set up.

  “Yes, thank you. It’s a great place. How did you find out about this place?” she asked, moving closer to him, as the number of people walking on their pathway began to increase.

  Their shoulders brushed against each other and Isabella’s eyes went on Christopher’s arms. They were glorious. Strong, slightly tanned and a sinuous, black tattoo spread from his left wrist and shot right up his sleeve. For a moment her mind wondered where the rest of the tattoo was, wishing she could trail it with the tip of her fingers…a burning feeling spread in her stomach, as she tried to block away her thoughts.

  Someone bumped into her then, but Christopher safely steadied her with his other hand. It was getting very crowded, now that they were headed towards the food stands.

  The atmosphere was so relaxed, Isabella just couldn’t believe that a few hours ago she had been running around like a mad woman, working and helping Hillary out. And that was nothing, you wait until tomorrow.

  “I come here every year. Music is my second passion”

  People were walking around in shorts, tank tops and holding cold bears, laughing and having a blast.

  On the others side of the festival, the music started playing again and Isabella realized that a vast number of people began to change direction, heading back to the stage. There was another rock band ready to perform.

  Christopher held on tight to her hand and made his way to a wooden food stall.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, speaking in her left ear. Even if the music was far away, it was still very loud.

  “Very” she nodded.

  When Isabella’s eyes met the food menu of a red and white striped food stand, her eyes lit up. She indicated in its direction and Christopher nodded.

  “Hi, I’d like a strawberry milkshake and a maple syrup waffle please” she grinned like a kid at Disneyland. It was exactly what she had wanted: soft, sweet, comfort food. “What about you?” she turned to Christopher.

  “I’ll have a mango and pineapple smoothie” Isabella frowned. A smoothie? Seeing her funny face, Christopher laughed.

  “I have to be fit for tomorrow” and he took money from his pocket.

  “No, no, no. I’ll pay for it. I still owe you for winning that bet about Mr. Jenkins” she put a hand over his arm and looked down. His skin was so warm.

  “I forgot about that. How are things going with him?” Isabella paid quickly and handed him his drink.

  “Not good” she took a sip of her milkshake. Yes, she needed something sweet especially while talking about Mr. Jenkins. Bitter Mr. Jenkins.

  They moved to the left and sat on the grass. They were at the every edges of the festival, a little uphill but they could see the stage perfectly from there. All around them were groups of friends, couples having a good time.

  “Well, I think you handled the first days quite well” he told her.

  “Thanks. It’s not easy though to please him. It’s so strange, Hillary seems very happy with my work. Of course she has to tell me what to do, I am new to this environment, but when I do something she seems okay with it. Mr. Jenkins acts like I am a third wheel, like he doesn’t want to talk in front of me, like I can’t hear certain things” she blurted out.

  She hadn’t meant to say those things to Christopher. She knew he was his manager, that he was his father’s good friend.

  The last thing she wanted was to upset Christopher, but she didn’t know what to do to improve the situation. It was like Mr. Jenkins just couldn’t stand her presence, like he didn’t get what the hell she was doing there. Like Hillary could do all on her own. Maybe, Isabella thought, Christopher could offer some insight on his behavior.

  “I’ll have a word with him, I’ll tell him not to be so hard on you. It’s not you, really. He doesn’t trust people, you are new. That’s all” he reassured her. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Isabella had heard all of this before. He was upset for some issues he had had with one of Hillary’s previous assistants. Like she cared, what did she have to do with that.

  What had happened in the past that was so terrible, that he c
ouldn’t forget and just trust her? Was that why Camilla had left? Or was Camilla the person who he had had trouble with?

  “Don’t talk to him about me. I don’t think that’s a good idea” she said immediately. First because that would mean you and I have a friendly relationship, second because I think that would actually make things worse.

  “Okay, if you don’t want me to…”

  “Forget I even said anything” she shrugged it off. “So what’s with the hat and the sunglasses? Did you forget your fake nose?” she teased him.

  Christopher grinned at that.

  “You mean you can still recognize me?” he mocked her.

  Isabella nodded vigorously. She would recognize him in a crowded room, with dim lights, maybe even with fancy masks on. She would figure out it was him from his hands, from the little scar on his upper lip, for his sexy, dimpled smile and from his deep, green eyes.

  “Aren’t you scared someone will recognize you and you’ll find yourself surrounded by people, wanting a piece of you?” she wondered.

  Christopher tilted his head back and laughed “I am not a film star”

  “But you are very popular” she said, as a matter of fact.

  The First Category racing seemed to be quite a popular sport in Australia and he was a great driver. And the son of a legend.

  “Are you afraid that someone will recognize me and take a picture of us?” he spoke his mind.

  Isabella shook her head slowly “I hadn’t thought of that” and it was true, she hadn’t. Why would they photograph a nobody like her. It wasn’t like they were in the hotel or in a popular restaurant. They were at a rock festival, twenty kilometers from Sidney. Why would anyone they knew be there?

  He placed his hand on her cheek and caressed her soft skin. Isabella closed her eyes and tilted her head a little, letting him cup her face in his big, warm hand. A shiver ran down her spine as he said: