Counterpoints (Counterpoints #1) Page 28

  A thought crossed her mind and without thinking it through she told Christopher, hoping a change of topic might do him good.

  “Are you dating someone?”

  “I believe I am, right now” he smiled to the side, amused by her question.

  “I’m serious Christopher” she warned him, but couldn’t help but smirk.

  “Me too, love. I’m seeing a very sexy, smart, sassy Italian that has the most gorgeous bottom…” she interrupted him abruptly, afraid that the Japanese family could hear them. They had now moved closer to them in the capsule with their cameras.

  The Wheel was descending and in a few minutes they would be out in the streets again. But before that, Isabella wanted to set things straight.

  “Christopher” she warned him to stop talking about her behind and turned to look into his eyes.

  “I’m serious. Never seen a bottom like that” he laughed then and added “You underestimate me, Bresciani. I am not a cheat. I am always very honest about these things” she moved closer and this time she kissed him.

  Isabella tilted her head back a little – he was so tall for a race driver- and she kept her eyes open, drinking in the sight of him. In a few moments the capsule would be on the ground and they would be back pretending they were just friends, working together. Isabella wanted to make the best of it.

  “I like honesty. It’s very sexy” she said simply, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was her way of thanking him for being sincere and for the way he made her feel, so incredibly alive.

  The capsule touched the ground and Isabella nudged him that it was time to go out.

  “Why are you seeing someone else?” he teased.

  “Oh yeah, I am going to see a therapist soon, if your manager won’t stop driving me crazy”

  They both agreed that Mr. Jenkins was a man in desperate need of a vacation.

  They watched the security marshals open the capsule to let them out. That had been the last ride of the day, so the river bank was almost empty, the only ones walking around now were those that had just been on the London Eye.

  “End of the game, you have to stop pretending. You can’t go back now and say you wanted to be someone else” she said smiling, as if sealing the deal, reading a promise in his words. A promise that he would not betray her trust.

  “I never pretend, darling” he stood in front of her, his face serious and incredibly sexy just then. He took her hand and they made their way out.

  The wind had started blowing harder now, it was getting colder and a gloomy mist was rising from the river Thames.

  Chapter 25

  “Cannes!!! I love Cannes. This is the best race of the year, if you ask me” Hillary stretched her arms a little and relaxed.

  Isabella, Hillary and John were having a light drink before going to the gala. That night they were attending a celebration at a famous club with many other members of the team, including of course Christopher and Noah.

  Isabella wished she could relax too- Cannes was indeed incredible, such an extraordinary place - but it was just impossible. The last months had been intense from a professional point of view. As predicted, Mr. Jenkins had mastered his revenge and found a way to drive her crazy.

  In Beijing he had contested every little thing she had written on the blog about Christopher and Noah, saying that she gave too much info about the drivers. He also hated Hillary’s and Isabella’s idea of ‘Quotes of the day’, where she would post things Christopher and Noah would say about a race or on a particular event they were attending that week. Too bad fans loved it and would always click on the page, to leave their comments.

  It seemed to Isabella that Mr. Jenkins – she refused to call him Alfred, since he had no intention of even speaking to her- didn’t quite accept the idea of sharing info on social networks, on the internet in general. The whole point was to connect fans with their favorite drivers and how did he expect that to happen, if she couldn’t post things about them?

  He had asked to see them both in London at the MB headquarters- again!- and discuss changes. He was giving them both a hard time, but the worst part was seeing Hillary involved.

  Mr. Jenkins said he would only speak to Hillary, since she was Isabella’s manager and couldn’t bother talking to a rookie, a nobody like Isabella. He gets nicer and nicer by the minute.

  Another thing he said, that really ticked Isabella off, was that he didn’t want his clients to be stalked or disturbed, due to all the info she was feeding the press.

  Isabella had felt so exasperated. She wasn’t feeding anything to the press, in fact she was doing a little damage control.

  By the time the race in Valencia was over, Christopher had won two races out of five, Noah winning only the one in Malaysia and a little tension had sparked behind the scenes, due to the fact that Noah had had some unfortunate technical problems.

  Noah wasn’t too pleased about the situation. He kept arguing with his mechanics and engineers, doing a little finger pointing when it came to strategy and choice of tires.

  On the other hand, Christopher had been his usual self, doing his best to reassure his team mate that it was just an unlucky moment for him.

  Nevertheless, Noah hadn’t been any happier. He had refused to give out interviews after the last race, which almost cost Hillary a heartache. She had had a rough time, telling journalists Noah’s decision.

  He was a good driver, very calm on the track, focused and he hardly made any mistakes. His drive was clean and experienced, like only a thirty three year old, experienced driver could be, but his mood swings in the boxes were very hard to handle.

  His girlfriend must have thought the same way too, since it was already the second race she had missed.

  The press had started writing about it, about how Christopher had had a lucky start that season, how the cars seemed very different and how their performance had improved since the previous year.

  Journalists had sensed a little tension inside the team, during press conferences and interviews. Or maybe they had just gotten lucky and had wanted to make a little soap opera out of the situation, just to make things a little juicier.

  Obviously, Noah had denied it all, under Isabella’s and Hillary’s suggestion. He had come to his senses and had told the press that yes, he was disappointed that things weren’t going smoothly for him, but incidents happened, they just had to move on together, as a team and learn from their mistakes.

  If only he believed his own words.

  Now it was race number six, Christopher had qualified in second position, while Noah was in fourth and Simoncini was first. Chiellini was definitely this track’s favorite team. Their car had proven to be faster during the free laps and during qualifying sessions.

  “You guys want to go to the pool party tonight, after the dinner? Just for half an hour or so. It’s going to end early anyway, race is tomorrow so I guess around nine we will all be free” Hillary checked her watch and then straightened her dress. She was heading to the restroom, before leaving to go to the dinner. She told them to think about it and left.

  John watched her leave and then, while Isabella took a sip of her drink- welcoming the soothing, tangy flavor of her mojito- he moved closer with his chair.

  “What are you up to after the dinner?” he asked.

  “Going to the pool party with Hillary, I guess” she shrugged, unaware of what was to come.

  “How about we keep up the night a little longer and go for drinks?”

  Isabella sat straight and turned to look at him.

  “John, you have the race too tomorrow, remember? All those bolts and needles you handle there? It’s very important you concentrate, while you screw them on the cars” she smiled naively.

  “Okay, so maybe we can skip the drinking and just hang around somewhere in town” he kept going on.

  “Don’t you feel like going to the pool party?” Isabella asked, not seeing it coming at all.

  “No, it’s just… I’d like to take you so
mewhere, just you and I” he stared at her, hopeful. John was a nice guy, he had become a friend, or so Isabella had thought.

  They had had a good time together so far. He was a party animal, but also a great person to talk to and a wizard at his job. The last thing Isabella wanted was to ruin it all.

  So, instead of going all serious and refusing his invitation, she decided the best thing was to avoid it all.

  “Come on, let’s go to the pool party. It will be fun” and she left it like that. Luckily Hillary was back, she sat down again and finished her drink.

  It was a little windy in Cannes that evening. They were sitting outside a bar, waiting for the dinner at the club to begin. Hillary’s short hair were brushed on the side. The tips touched her shoulders now and that length made her look even prettier. Even though she was always complaining that she should get a haircut, Isabella knew she liked it like that. It sure wasn’t practical and Hillary liked practical things.

  That night Hillary was wearing a dark orange cocktail dress under her knees and the color looked gorgeous on her black skin. She really looked like a diva, always so stylish and classy. Isabella on the other hand, had decided to wear something less flashy.

  Her dress was black and it had a heart neckline. It was tight around her waist and then the skirt went wide just above her knee. It was a simple skater dress, that she had styled up with taupe green shoes and bag and green clips that held her hair up. Isabella just hoped It was okay for the event.

  Apparently, royals would be attending the gala, too. It was the grandest event she had ever been invited to, possibly the most exclusive one she would ever attend in her life. She looked around the busy street and wondered where was Christopher. Probably with his physiotherapist, as his knee was giving him problems lately. She thought about the night before and a shiver crossed her bare back, causing her to pull up her foulard around her shoulders.

  They had dined in a little restaurant just outside Mentone, a place where they had doubted any paparazzi or journalist would spot them. They had chosen a lovely little tavern, just by the sea and they had sat there all night, hands and legs brushing, while talking about anything but work.

  Christopher had said he was madly in love with a freckle on her left cheek, but didn’t dare to confess it to the ones on her right cheek, too afraid to piss them off. She had smiled and he had kissed her, making her feel fantastic.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to bed early tonight” he had said to her moments later, as his hand had gone all the way up her thigh and disappeared under her skirt. She had been quick to place a hand on his, her eyes had gone wide.

  “There are people around us, Christopher” she had said to him, her heart racing with excitement.

  “That’s not what’s stopping me. It’s your hand” he had smirked and decided to behave.

  After all he had to go back to the hotel soon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her a little.

  “Behave” she had flirted back.

  “Ask me to stop” he murmured but she just couldn’t say the words. She loved to feel his hands on her skin. Isabella had let them travel up and down her thighs, moving her own hand up and down his chest.

  They had kissed passionately, between a laugh and giggle.

  Isabella didn’t know if it was truly safe or not, to give in to their passion in public like that. Somebody could have been watching them but the reality was that they just couldn’t refrain it. In a room full of people, they would always look for each other and manage to find one another. And when they were inches apart like that it was impossible to keep away.

  “How did it go with Noah today?” he had asked subtly.

  “It was okay. I just never know what’s on his mind. Like yesterday we were at this sponsor event. Hillary had scheduled a few interviews for him but he refused to do them all, without an explanation or anything. He was also a little cold with his fans”

  Christopher shrugged not knowing what to say to that. He knew that Noah had a very singular personality. When he didn’t keep to himself, he was brutally honest.

  “I think he is just genuinely pissed off right now. He likes winning, we all do but he’s very competitive” and that was all.

  Christopher seemed used to his mood swings and had continued talking and joking around with him as usual, even though Noah had been a little distant.

  Out of nowhere, Isabella remembered what had happened between them before they left for Cannes, back in London. She had gone to his house again and the night had ended in Christopher’s bedroom, where he had made love to her in any possible way, succeeding in his attempt to drive her crazy.

  In particular, she couldn’t push out of her mind the way he whispered in her ears while behind her, as she held on to the bed board. Just thinking about it, had made her head spin.

  “I want to make you mine” he had said at some point, putting a hand in her hair.

  “I am” she had moaned, as he was biting her lip gently.

  Just the thought of it made her stomach knot. Thinking about her and Christopher, made her yearn for more, for more of his touch.

  “Hello, Isabella??” Hillary said and Isabella snapped back to reality.

  She shook her head, wondering if Hillary had said something to her. “Are you okay love? Your cheeks are red. Don’t tell me you are coming down with a temperature or…”

  “No, no I am not sick. Sorry, what were you saying?” she looked at her colleague, feeling guilty for not listening her out.

  Maybe she had been talking about work, she really needed to concentrate more.

  When she wasn’t busy keeping her relationship with Christopher a secret, she was busy working. It felt like their relationship was like a time bomb, it was inevitably going to blow up in their faces. Soon, very soon if I don’t stop daydreaming.

  Hillary put a hand on her chest and breathed out relieved. Then she laughed and pointed at Isabella.

  “This guy your are seeing in London must be really good at it” she giggled.

  Isabella’s eyes went wide and she glanced at John, who was now looking at them both, trying to understand what they were laughing about, as he had been on the phone for the past ten minutes.

  “Good for you” Hillary winked “Drink up, darling. It’s time to go” and with that they stood up, ready to go back to work, ready for an exciting night in glamorous Cannes.

  If someone had told her what was about to happen, Isabella would have never believed it. It seemed like such a quiet, relaxed evening. Sure, there was the press to handle, many famous, important people attending, but never she would have imagined that that night, she would discover just how much was going on behind the scenes of the glamorous jet set, that was the car race environment.

  Once they had made it in -after Noah’s and Christopher’s arrival, red carpet moment and, of course, the brief interviews and pictures with the press - they had all taken their seats. Unfortunately, Christopher and Noah were at a different table than Hillary’s and Isabella’s. John was there with them and he had kept hinting all night that he wanted to go out with Isabella. He wasn’t letting it go, despite Hillary had mentioned her seeing someone in London. John was a fighter.

  The drivers were surrounded by people, they all seemed to want to mingle with them. It was all pretty normal to Isabella, now. People were just so attracted to the drivers. Maybe it was because they lived a dangerous, exciting life on the track. Maybe it was just the yearn for fame. Also, it was about reputation, a reputation for being a woman’s man. Christopher had been surrounded by beautiful women since he had arrived at the gala.

  It wasn’t until she spotted him talking to a tall young, woman, with long dark hair and a familiar face, that her heart started racing. She seemed to know him well, quite well actually, as she kept touching his shoulder.

  Her smiles and her body language were unmistakable: whoever she was, she was attracted to Christopher and seemed to be quite at ease in his presence.

  Isabe
lla swallowed hard and the smile on her face was gone in an instant.

  What’s her name? She just couldn’t remember, but she sure was someone in the showbiz.

  All through the dinner, Isabella kept telling herself to let it go, not to be bothered by the attentions that woman was giving Christopher, even though he was smiling at her, listening to her words. He is just being himself, polite and a women’s man as usual.

  Like in Beijing or in Malaysia, when groups of girls had begged him to dance in the clubs and of course he had said yes. Isabella and Christopher couldn’t risk people noticing their relationship, not yet anyway, not before they were sure it was going somewhere. Not before SHE was sure it was going somewhere.

  And a celibate Christopher is a Christopher that is hiding something.

  Still, while watching him talk to that mysterious woman, Isabella felt like a rock had been placed over her heart, a weight that only Christopher could remove.

  The rock seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, when Isabella went to stand to the side of the room, pretending to write a text message. Actually, she had plenty of messages to write back to, including her mother’s and her sister’s –not to mention Cristina’s, who had tried calling her over the past week.

  Anyway, it was while she did so that Noah came close to her with a group of people, Isabella had yet to meet. She spotted Christopher in the middle of the room, standing and looking in her direction, while the tall woman had put a hand under his arm.

  A lump formed in Isabella’s throat, making it impossible for her to speak. She couldn’t see her reflection anywhere, but Isabella was sure that her face was pale, as she felt the blood drain from her head. The room started to spin.

  “Looks like Giselle is back” said Noah out of the blue.

  Isabella turned to look at him, still unable to speak. Noah searched her face, with the look of someone who was definitely searching for something, a sign or a confirmation to his insinuations.

  Afraid to ruin everything, Isabella tried her best to get her act together.