Counterpoints (Counterpoints #1) Read online

  Their eyes met briefly every now and then, followed by shy, little smiles from Isabella. He had arrived after her, exactly forty minutes later, Isabella thought. But who’s counting? One more minute and she might have lost it, for how much she was craving his presence.

  “Now that you are both here, cheers guys! What a wonderful start of the season!!!” shouted a tipsy manager of the team. Everyone grabbed their glasses and cheered. It had been a wonderful weekend, full of surprises and excitement. What a beginning.

  Hillary took out her little camera and started taking pictures. She laughed and said that for one night she wanted to be Isabella.

  When Hillary asked her to take a picture of her with the boys from the technical team, Isabella smiled and agreed to do so. Christopher eyed them from the other end of the table.

  “Can I take a picture with you, too?” he asked minutes later, joining Isabella and Hillary near the bar.

  “Of course darling” Hillary hugged Christopher and he hugged Isabella. His arm slowly circled Isabella’s waste, his hands moved a little, like they were exploring her skin. Isabella swallowed hard but kept looking at the camera, afraid her eyes would give her away. Damn butterflies.

  When John finished taking the picture, Hillary went to the other side of the room, heading to the table. Someone was calling her phone.

  “How’s our assistant press agent doing tonight?” he asked casually, having people around eavesdropping.

  “Good. How are you doing, man of the day? I believe you won today’s race” she cocked her head at him. Noah was passing by with an empty glass of beer and stopped next to them.

  “Just today’s race. Write that down Isabella because it’s the only race I’ll let him win” he winked with a smug expression on his face and slapped Christopher on his back, who slapped him back and laughed.

  “It hurts, doesn’t it?” he teased.

  Noah said something else, but Isabella couldn’t quite grasp it. It must have been some inside joke of theirs.

  They exchanged a couple of more witty remarks and then Noah was off to the bar again.

  “You look so sexy tonight. Everyone’s looking at you” he said moving closer.

  “They’re not” said Isabella, fidgeting a little at the thought.

  Okay, she had to admit the white shorts might have been a little sneaky on her count, but of course she had done it all on purpose. She wanted to get Christopher’s attention and it had worked perfectly. Still, it was fun to play the “innocent little me” part.

  “I know for a fact that some of the guys here from MB want to ask you out” he told her. His penetrating eyes stayed on hers, waiting for her reaction.

  Isabella eyebrows went up. Who? She couldn’t imagine who wanted to ask her out.

  They had all been very nice to her and now that they spent so much time together -eating in the same places, sleeping in the same hotels- Isabella had more or less spoken to everyone at least once, but nobody had ever flirted openly with her. A part from Christopher.

  Nevertheless, she loved the atmosphere of the team, so far it had been a pleasure to be working with them. If only Noah wasn’t so arrogant and gloomy all the time.

  She looked in his direction and realized he was looking at her, too. He raised his glass as in “cheers” and then went back talking to his friends, with a sneaky smile on his face, like something was up. What was he playing at?

  “You are making this up” she concluded and he laughed at the funny face she was making.

  One of the things he liked the most about her was how she expressed her feelings and emotions with her body language, not just with words. She was just so honest and herself all the time. It was so refreshing to be around a person so real like Isabella.

  Christopher was born into popularity and he had come to discover, over the years, that people would do anything for a second of fame, especially be something that they weren’t.

  That was it. Isabella was just herself, she didn’t do things to impress him or anyone else.

  She wasn’t looking for the spotlight. And he knew as a matter of fact that it wasn’t easy to find someone like that. Not in his world, anyway.

  Even Hillary, who he adored from a professional point of view and had come to appreciate as a friend, was so up and down all the time. She covered up her true emotions. But not Isabella, she didn’t because she didn’t know how to. And a person so true like that should never be hurt, ever.

  “So, man of the day, you didn’t answer my question. How does it feel to have won today’s race?” she asked, pretending that her small bag was a microphone “I bet nobody asked you this today” she teased.

  Of course they had. Every single one of the journalists, that had interviewed him after the race, had asked the same question. Over and over and over again.

  “That’s a good one” he teased “You can ask me anything you want, darling” he smiled to the side. “I’m over the moon. The car felt great…” his eyes sparkled with joy.

  She could tell he had felt invincible and unstoppable in that car. He had done a few incredible overtakes, one of which had been a little hazardous, but the truth was that he loved risking, he loved pushing himself to the limit. It gave him a sense of power, like a rush of blood to the head. The same feeling that he felt when he was around Isabella. Especially, when he was kissing Isabella.

  They spoke for a while and some of his friends joined in the conversation. They were all thinking about the next race in China. Apparently the track was going to be very different from the one in Sidney, so it was going to be interesting to see how the cars would perform and which would be the winning strategy for the team.

  Christopher’s friends went on talking about how they had met, how they had once gone bowling and Christopher had never won, not a single game. They actually used the words “he sucks at bowling” and Isabella thought that he was perfect at everything else, so who cared about bowling?

  All of a sudden the conversations around the table ceased, as if everyone was caught by temporary muteness or something. When Mr. Jenkins made his way through the group, Isabella’s blood went cold. This is probably what a corpse feels like, she asserted.

  She thought she had frozen in place, as his eyes met hers. Why was he there? He’s going to humiliate me, he is going to fire me… Isabella began to panic. Wait a minute, he can’t fire me…right?

  She swallowed hard, her throat went dry and she looked away, not wanting him to see how worried she was.

  “I’m sorry to bother you” he said to Christopher and the others. “I’m looking for Hillary” and just like that, Isabella’s heart resumed its beating. He had asked to see Hillary, not her. She thought it would be better not to open her mouth, just in case he remembered she was there. Had he seen the blog? Maybe he hadn’t.

  Then a terrible thought crossed her mind and she went cold again: was he going to have a go at Hillary, because she had authorized the publication of her material?

  Christopher moved down the room and went to get Hillary, who was still holding her phone but the smile on her face was gone. She looked serious and worried about something, not at all in party mood, like moments before.

  She walked over to where Isabella was still standing – as still as a rock- and she covered her sadness with a huge smile, an Oscar winning smile.

  “A word with you, please” he said to her, not even saying hello first. Of course, it was Mr. Jenkins they were talking about. Not that she was complaining that he hadn’t even acknowledged her, she was actually grateful that he hadn’t in that situation. But still, the man had no manners.

  “I’m off the clock now, Alfred. Want to join the group for a drink?” Hillary asked casually. Isabella, Christopher and the others started moving away but Mr. Jenkins stopped them. “Isabella, I’d like to have a meeting with you and Mr. Johnson in London next week” his voice was hard.

  A shocked expression appeared on Isabella’s face. He knows my name?

  “Absol
utely” she replied, doing her best to keep her voice steady and calm. His stare was so intimidating, but she didn’t look away until he did.

  “Is this about the photographs and the post about the race?” Hillary asked him a little nervous now. Maybe she had sensed something in the tone of his voice or maybe she was just worried that she hadn’t been invited to the meeting, not officially anyway.

  “A word with you, alone” was all he said next and Hillary followed him out of the restaurant. Before she left, she looked back at Isabella and smiled and mouthed the words ‘it’s okay’. Then she winked and disappeared.

  “What were we thinking?” Isabella said out loud. She put a hand through her hair “I screwed it up at the first race” she felt terrible.

  Hillary was probably out there, her evening of celebration ruined, getting a piece of his mind because of her. Was it just because of what she had done?

  “What’s wrong?” John -who had been hanging out with them- looked at her puzzled.

  He truly had no idea what was going on. Isabella spilled it all out and told him what she had done.

  To be honest, she had no idea why she had to send him the articles first, before publishing them. It didn’t say anywhere in her contract. Hillary was her supervisor, her boss. If anything, she could have a say about what she wrote or posted.

  Isabella was there to help Hillary handle the press, press releases and publicity. Her contract was with MB, not with Mr. Jenkins. She was MB’s assistant press agent and her main task was editing blogs and writing on social networks. Why did he care? Yes, he was Christopher’s manager, but surely he must know that she would never write something bad about any of them. She worked for MB, she worked for Christopher in a way. Indirectly.

  Plus, social networks and blogs work because they are a sort of instant messaging, you write things as they happen. It doesn’t make any sense posting things so late.

  “Relax, I’m sure it’s not about you. Hillary has so many responsibilities and I’m sure he wants to negotiate some kind of interview or something like that with her. They are always working together” he said to reassure her “He could have waited tomorrow though. He’s such a workaholic” he added shaking his head.

  John put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.

  As on cue, Isabella’s eyes went to Christopher. He was standing near a table, talking to someone, but his stare was set on Isabella and that stare was dead cold serious. His eyes went from John’s hands to Isabella’s eyes. If looks could kill.

  Without saying anything else about Mr. Jenkins, Isabella thanked John for his kind words and asked him if he cared for a drink, as she was going to get something for herself. Isabella reached the bar and looked over to Christopher again, his eyes were still all for her. She reddened and did her best to avoid him for a while.

  It was getting harder for Isabella to hold back and pretend he had no effect on her. She didn’t feel herself when he was around. Or perhaps I am really myself when he is around, I don’t have to pretend or think too much.

  Nonetheless, they needed to keep others from noticing whatever it was they were doing.

  There were a lot of people watching, one of which was Noah, who seemed particularly interested in what was happening on her side of the room.

  Half an hour later Hillary was back, looking more distressed than during the race. Her face said it all: whatever they had spoken about ,it hadn’t been pleasant.

  “If it’s about me, I’m sorry” Isabella rushed to her the minute she saw her walk back in “I had no idea he would take it out on you. It’s my fault, I jumped the procedure. I’ll tell him first thing, when I see him in London”

  “Don’t worry, it’s okay. It was not about what happened today” as she spoke, Isabella noticed that she looked exhausted. Something else was up, it wasn’t just work. Her eyes were puffy and possibly a little red.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered so nobody could hear them.

  “Yes, yes darling. It just hit me how very tired I am. I’m leaving. John!!!” she shouted his name and John walked up to them, drink in hand and a huge smile on his face. “Can you make sure Isabella gets to the hotel safe?”

  He nodded and Hillary added “You are in good hands, Isabella. I’ll kill him if anything happens to you” she slapped his shoulder jokingly and took off, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

  It was John who announced her departure to everyone else, ten minutes later when Fred asked where Hillary had disappeared to.

  Chapter 17

  When the happy gang decided to move the party to a club, a very tired Isabella turned down the invite. It was midnight, she was done for the night. Her flight left at eight, her morning was going to be awful, even more awful if she bumped into Mr. Jenkins at breakfast.

  Imagine that, sitting in the hotel’s restaurant, probably getting yelled at in public for posting two stupid pictures and a post. What had she been thinking? What had Hillary been thinking, approving of her? What is he thinking, being so pissed off over nothing?

  Anyway, it didn’t matter. One thing she had learned during her work experience in Rome – dealing with the press, the athletes and their managers- was that sometimes you just needed to be the bigger person and let go. Also, you can’t argue with crazy people like Mr. Grumpy.

  “Bye guys!” she said, as she watched them jump into taxis. Fred and Claire, one of the few rare women in the racing environment, waved at her and a tipsy, hyper Tom sent her a kiss and shouted “Ciao bella!” and dived into the car.

  Noah and his girlfriend were the last ones to get into a taxi.

  “Aren’t you coming, Chris?” he asked shocked, seeing that Christopher was still standing there with his friends and he still hadn’t gotten inside a car. Apparently, it was weird for Christopher to turn down a night clubbing around town. He was a party boy and really loved Sidney’s nightlife.

  “I’m tired. I think I’ll call it a night” he said with nonchalance.

  Meanwhile, John walked over to Isabella and told her that he would take her to the hotel.

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll get a taxi” she said and her eyes went quickly to Christopher. He had heard John’s words, she could tell from the stiffness of his body, like he wasn’t breathing.

  “What? No chick for the night?” Noah was saying to Christopher with a sly smile on his lips.

  Isabella checked her phone, like she was uninterested of whatever it was they were talking about, but she felt a jab in her side. What Noah had implied, was nothing but the truth. Christopher was very popular for his one night stands, his pleasure in picking up girls. Just stop acting like you don’t know it. Get a grip.

  All of a sudden, there were too many people talking at the same time. Christopher’s friends were trying to convince him to go out. After all he had won the race, it was his night, it was time to celebrate. I should go with them, Isabella thought but her heart wasn’t into it.

  She had felt bad and guilty all through dinner for what had happened with Mr. Jenkins, seeing Hillary so upset. I am such a screw up, I always have to be the rebel and things my way. Why can’t I just stick to the bloody rules?

  “Do you want to walk to the hotel?” John’s question made her snap back to reality.

  “No, no John you go. Go party. I think this is my taxi” she said, pointing at the car that had just stopped in front of them.

  Isabella waved goodbye to everyone and got in the car, without bothering to look back at Christopher. She told the driver where to take her and didn’t speak a word during the whole cab ride, not bothering to ask what monuments they were passing by. She was looking outside, but her eyes weren’t seeing anything. All she could think of, was Christopher dancing in a club surrounded by hot girls.

  The worst thing that can happen, when you are tired, is not being able to sleep. Isabella kept looking at her watch. Midnight. Twelve thirty a.m. One a.m.

  Her body was aching for sleep, so tired it was a hassle just
to raise her arm and check the time. Her mind though was on a different page, completely.

  Her mind kept thinking, thoughts of Christopher, enjoying the evening with some girl. Girls. Mr. Jenkins taking it out on Hillary. Mr. Jenkins wanting to have a meeting with her and Mr. Johnson in person, probably about her and her misbehavior.

  Then, thoughts about Christopher again, pushing another woman against the wall in a club, like he had done to her that night in Valencia.

  Her phone rang suddenly and it startled her. Isabella sat up a little confused. It was the phone in her room that was ringing. She checked the clock and it said two a.m.

  Her arm stretched a little to grab the receiver and she answered, her voice a little unsteady.

  “Hello?”

  “You really have to stop pouting like you did earlier in the restaurant”

  “Christopher??” she asked unsure. She couldn’t believe it was him. “Where are you calling me from and how did you get this number?”

  She heard him smile on the other side before answering.

  “Let’s say I had to pull a few strings…”

  They both went quiet for a few instants, Isabella clutched the phone in her hands and listened to her heart thump frantically in her chest. Maybe she had fallen asleep after all. Must be a dream.

  “I’m sorry I woke you up, luv I just wanted to say goodbye properly before you left tomorrow morning. Go back to sleep, Isabella”

  “Where are you?” she asked quickly, almost afraid he would hang up.

  “I’m downstairs… at the reception.”

  She thought about what to say next. What was it that she wanted. Him, here, in my room, in my bed.

  “Do you want to come up?” she bit her lip and closed her eyes shut, as she waited for his answer.

  Christopher was smiling again on the other side.

  “How about you come down and we go for a walk around the block?” he suggested.

  Normally she should have been relieved- not to rush things and have him in her room, sleeping together so soon- but, at the same time, a terrible thought crossed Isabella’s mind: why, why hadn’t he wanted to go up to her room? Why? And again: Why???