Counterpoints (Counterpoints #1) Read online

  Evidently, Christopher was into every extreme sport known to mankind.

  “I got you, baby” he said wrapping his arms around her. “Trust me, okay? I won’t let you go”

  They moved forward in the cue, as it was time for the couple in front of them to take a leap.

  Isabella shivered and laughed again, tense like a violin chord.

  “This is crazy” she shook her head and covered her mouth. I will not throw up, I will not throw up.

  “Of course it is. Just like you and me, like you said a while ago” he smiled to the side. Yes, Isabella thought, we are crazy. We have nothing in common and we belong to two different planets. But they were both so crazy to hold on tight to this connection they had, secretly hiding from one another the fear of getting their hearts crushed. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Isabella looked into his eyes, as the next couple jumped, and then she shut them closed, tight, hearing them scream.

  Without knowing it, Christopher had asked Isabella a very serious question, the question that just the night before had bothered Isabella so much. Did she trust him?

  She opened her eyes again and saw that Christopher hadn’t moved one inch. His arms were still around her, his eyes determined and alive. It was hard not to get carried away by his excitement.

  “Let go, with me” he said “Clear your mind. I promise you, It will be incredible”

  “Okay, guys it’s your turn now” one of the instructors took the elastic rope and tied it around Isabella, while her body tensed. She breathed hard, like she had just ran up a hill. Another man was tying Christopher, making sure he was good to go.

  “Remember, hold on to each other in a tight embrace. You are tied together. Hands wrapped around these hoops” the man showed them once again where to hold on. “Go to the ledge and jump together when you are ready” the man instructed.

  Christopher nodded and resumed his position next to Isabella, holding her tight.

  “Christopher…” she mumbled but couldn’t say anything else. She was petrified, scared to death.

  “Look at me. Look into my eyes, don’t look down”

  They moved on the ledge, to the very end of it, and the cool breeze made Isabella shiver. Christopher looked at her and stopped.

  “Remember, Isabella. I got you. Trust me on this. Don’t think” he kissed her softly and searched her eyes. “When I say three, you jump to the side with me okay?”

  “I can’t” she said shaking under his touch, letting out a nervous laugh again. “I guess this is not a good time to tell you that I am afraid of heights”

  “Bullocks, Bresciani” he let out a laugh. Then his tone changed and became more serious, all smooth and sexy “It’s all in your head, the fear... you can do this, Isabella. Don’t think. I’ll hold you, okay?”

  Isabella nodded, still a little unsure but feeling safe in his arms. She wanted to do it. God, it sure felt amazing, so exciting, waiting at the edge of darkness. Literally.

  She was scared and so hyper, the situation was overwhelming. This was exactly what Christopher always made her feel like.

  Without saying anything next, Christopher counted to three and, without thinking about it another minute, they both jumped.

  Isabella let out a terrified scream, broken by the cold wind that slapped against her face during the fall. She gasped for air, but just couldn’t take in a breath. Panic began to fill her lungs until she heard Christopher scream “You did it!!!! WOHOOO!!! You are fucking amazing!!!!!”

  Isabella screamed again, this time laughing hard, joining Christopher’s happiness.

  Falling down, she saw the lights go on and realized how close their bodies were to the iron bridge, how they went all the way down just a few inches from the ground, before the elastic cord they were tied to, sent them back up twirling on themselves.

  Her stomach moved all the way up her body, like it was going up her throat. Christopher screamed again and Isabella followed.

  “I can’t believe we did it” she kissed him again.

  While the two men on the boat pulled them down gently, Isabella’s eyes went up towards the bridge, scanning the metal structure in search of the exact spot where they had jumped from. It was madness. It was so far up.

  She sat on the boat, her body shaking compulsively, because of the cold, because of the adrenaline, she wasn’t quite sure. All she knew was that she felt incredible, on top of the world and powerful.

  During the fall, she had done nothing but listen to her feelings – the cold air, her stomach going upside down, the smell of the countryside.

  This was how Christopher liked to live his life. One hundred percent excitement, zero percent worries. That night Isabella had had a taste of what his life was like and, she had to admit to herself, it was one hell of a ride.

  “Are you okay, Bresciani?” Christopher asked a moment later, as the boat took them to the river bank. He leaned forward and undid her helmet for her, with a silly grin on his face.

  “My legs won’t stop shaking” she tilted her head back and laughed.

  “It’s called adrenaline rush. Welcome to my world” he smiled to the side.

  Chapter 29

  Going back to London for a few days was a relief. Isabella would finally have some time to rest before the next race. Not a chance! She had exactly two days to spend in London, before leaving to go to Toronto with the rest of the troop.

  Two days of sitting around? Not really, two days of interviews and events, one of which was for charity and involved both Noah and Christopher, dueling with hybrid cars.

  An appointment she surely wasn’t looking forward to, was the one with Mr. Jenkins. She hadn’t seen him again after that night, in the alleyway in Cannes and frankly she had been pleased, so pleased about it.

  One good thing she had done while waiting at the airport, working on her laptop, was to book her next ticket to Rome. She was going back home for three days before the race in Germany and, strangely enough, this time she couldn’t wait.

  Despite Salvo, her ex friend Angela and her father’s presence, she was eager to go back, so curious to meet Emilia’s boyfriend, the man her entire family was talking about. A wannabe pediatrician meets a soon to be accountant graduate. And she wouldn’t be risking her life going back either, since she had gotten her brother a pass for the race in Rome. That should save my behind.

  Isabella waited for the doors of the airplane to open. This time she had travelled alone, not that she minded. It was actually refreshing. The whole thing between Hillary and Mr. Jenkins had still to be explained to her, not that she wanted to, but Hillary still insisted they had to talk. So thank God, she had avoided that for now.

  Plus, John still hadn’t gotten the message that she was seeing someone in London. Actually, not just in London. He is everywhere I go.

  Christopher was going to spend another day in Cannes with his mother – fair enough- so she would see him in London, at the charity event the following day.

  They had said goodbye just a few hours before, when he had taken her back to the shore, on his boat, at the crack of dawn, after spending a crazy night together, jumping off bridges in the middle of nowhere in France.

  Just thinking about the jump again, made Isabella’s stomach twist in a knot. She would never forget how frightened and incredibly alive it had made her feel.

  Christopher had insisted in taking her to the hotel, but Isabella had refused and willed him to go get some sleep, real sleep. Christopher had taken her into his arms and kissed her passionately, until her taxi had parked near the ticket booth for the speed boat. He had watched her walk the whole dock, before heading back inside, finding it so hard to let her go.

  How weird it felt to him, to be dating a woman who didn’t ask for anything, who didn’t want anything from him. Everyone seemed to want something. His opinion on his father’s racing abilities, his money, his attention, his place at MB. All she wanted was him, just Christopher, not Christopher Taylor, a man with a hea
vy surname to carry on his back- sometimes too heavy even for a strong person like him.

  The doors of the plane opened and Isabella made her way out into the terminal building, part of her luggage with her and part of it waiting at the baggage claim.

  After half an hour, she got the rest of the bags and decided to take the train to the city center. Quicker than a tube and cheaper than a cab.

  The airport was busy as usual. Heathrow looked like a little city to her. She had been through it quite a few times now and she was still fascinated by how efficiently it was run, despite the amount of people walking in and out the terminals at all times.

  Before leaving the building, Isabella stopped in front of a newsstand to pick a magazine and a newspaper to read on the train, tired of looking at her tablet and cell phone.

  Since there was a queue, she took her phone and texted her mother with a simple ‘I arrived safely, talk to you later’. She did the same with her friend Maria and Cristina and then saw that it was her turn.

  “Can I have the Evening News and…” her voice was stuck halfway in her throat.

  Her eyes grew wide, as if she had just seen a ghost. On a tabloid she saw a picture of Christopher. With another woman. Giselle. Isabella recognized the surroundings instantly. The picture had been taken in Cannes. There were two snapshots, actually. One was of them talking during dinner, the other one was of them alone, kissing, somewhere private with nobody around.

  Isabella felt her legs go soft. She swore she could feel sweat running down her spine. It was like her mind couldn’t process what her eyes were seeing. Or maybe that defense mechanism she once read about lived in our subconscious, was trying to protect her from reality.

  Isabella had to blink several times, before her body started to function again, and was able to take the magazine in her hands. It burned, like someone had just shot her in her chest.

  “…and this please” her voice was broken, her heart was in pieces and her mind wasn’t thinking straight. She paid and silently made her way to the platform nearby, feeling empty and dead inside.

  Isabella sat down on a bench and then took the tabloid again and read the title: ‘British First Category driver Christopher Taylor’s steamy reunion with top model Giselle’

  Isabella cried in silence, anger and disappointment crushing her emotions, her feelings for Christopher. A woman offered her a tissue at some point and she took it, thanking her with an incomprehensible sob.

  She dragged herself home, walking around the city like a robot, unable to feel anything but pain. She felt her cheeks wet for the tears, but didn’t even bother to wipe them off. Nobody on the street asked her anything, nobody even notice her weep, as she made her way to Bayswater from Paddington Station.

  It had started raining and she let the drops wash over her, hoping they would wipe away her suffering.

  Her body was aching all over.

  She reached home and laid in bed all day, calling in sick and cancelling the meeting at the headquarters.

  Every time her mind tried to reason or find a plausible explanation, Isabella killed it off. There was nothing to think about, the facts were there before her eyes.

  She gave herself one day, one day to waste her tears once again on a man, who didn’t deserve her attention nor her pain, a man who made fun of her and her feelings in the blink of an eye.

  One day to feel a complete idiot for believing the lie, for believing the illusion. One day, she told herself and then she was going to put it all behind her and cancel him from her life, just as he had cancelled her from his with that kiss.

  One day to recover and then back on my feet.

  She hid her face in the pillow and wondered if it was ever possible to recover from a man like Christopher.

  Screening calls might have been a childish thing to do, but Isabella couldn’t care less at that point. It wasn’t fair of her, big deal. It wasn’t fair what Christopher had done to her either and she wasn’t going to apologize about her behavior.

  Every now and then, her mind would start to wonder, how was it possible that she had let somebody, a man, a man like Christopher make a fool out of her? Isabella would then push those thoughts aside, scared of where her reasoning might take her.

  All the things they had said to each other, the wonderful time spent together around the world, seeing each other secretly, being part of Christopher’s private life, the boat ride, had all been a game to him. How could it have not been real? It had surely felt real to Isabella.

  Three phone calls since yesterday and two messages later, Isabella had managed to put herself back together again, up from bed, showered and dressed, ready to go to the charity event with Hillary.

  She hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday on the plane and contemplated pushing something down, but she just didn’t feel the need to. Her stomach was closed up, upside down and disgusted.

  Nevertheless, Isabella forced a toast in her mouth and drank a cup of herbal tea to try calm her nerves . Coffee would be such a bad decision right now.

  Waiting for her at the event was Christopher, clueless of why she wasn’t answering her phone, and two people –Hillary and Noah- who had no idea what was going on to begin with, so she had to do what was right: be professional and carry on with her job.

  She wasn’t going to give it up – her job she meant of course- not for Christopher, not for anyone on the face of the earth, just as she had said to Salvo months ago.

  This was the job she had waited for so long, her breakthrough, and no man would make her walk away from her dream.

  Isabella couldn’t believe how easily she had lost her focus. She had gone to London to be an assistant press agent to Hillary, to work for MB and take care of their blog and hopefully learn something from the experience, to build a solid career, a name for herself and meet potential clients for her future press agency.

  Work was the center of her universe. Period. She had let a good looking man distract her like a fool. Even if it had all felt so real- their connection, their intimacy- it had been all in her head. It did feel all too good to be true, Isabella thought. She just wished she hadn’t had to hit her head so hard to figure it out.

  Even if she was hurting, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Hopefully. Could she keep her feelings aside? Isabella had no idea.

  Despite the quantity of make up on her face, she could still see the dark circles around her eyes and her smile didn’t light up her face, like it usually did. It seemed wrong, fake to look at. Probably just like Noah’s.

  It was also quite noticeable that she hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours, as her stomach had never been so flat. Her mother would have screamed at her. Actually, her grandmother would have screamed at her. Chasing me with gnocchi. The thought made her smile a little but then her eyes darted to the mirror once again, and she felt sorry for herself, for believing in a man like Christopher, who deep down she knew wasn’t right for her, but she so desperately had wanted to believe it could work.

  I thought I had found someone special, and as the thought crossed her mind, she realized that every betrayed woman must have that very, same thought.

  Really now, what was wrong with her? Hadn’t the story between Salvo and Angela taught her anything? What about her father’s cheating? She wasn’t naïve like her mother, she was just stupid.

  Isabella travelled to work in silence, looking outside the window, while she crossed town in a cab, feeling empty and drained, wishing she could switch off her brain and just be invisible and meaningless for one day. Work, work, focus on work.

  When she arrived outside the building where the function was being held, she tried to compose herself, seeing the press and the large amount of people that had come down to watch the show.

  Isabella straightened her blue pencil skirt and unbuttoned the top button of her green shirt. She was wearing the team uniform, an elegant version for the day, but still that didn’t mean she couldn’t look good. And make Christophe
r suffer like hell.

  She checked her hair once more, tied up behind her neck and stepped out of the car, after spotting Hillary on the left hand side.

  “Hey, how are you?” she kissed her and then put down her tablet and scanned her from top to toe. “Did you rest darling?”

  “Not really” Isabella’s voice was flat but kind.

  She tried not to look sad, as much as she could anyway, but so far it didn’t seem to be working.

  “What happened?” Hillary asked, looking almost a little worried.

  “It’s nothing. I’ll tell you after work, if you are in for a drink”

  “I am always in for a girls night, sure” she squeezed her shoulder a little and then carried on talking about work.

  She handed Isabella a schedule and they went through a few things together. Both Christopher and Noah were going to use this occasion to give interviews to the press, since nowadays it was getting harder to do so during race weekends.

  “You’ll follow Christopher and I’ll take Noah around, is that alright?”

  Isabella nodded and frowned at the same time, but luckily Hillary didn’t notice. Was it alright? No, it wasn’t. It was hard to believe, but she actually wished she could work with Noah for once. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell that to Hillary. Not without getting a funny look from her anyway.

  Besides she was the boss, she was the one who made the decisions.

  Isabella put all her strength and effort in her work and spoke to a few journalists herself, reassuring them that they would have their moment with the drivers. She actually did it, she kept herself busy and concentrated, until she spotted him and her chest started to ache. For a moment, Isabella thought her legs would give in and send her tumbling down to the ground.

  There he was, gorgeous as ever, walking towards her with a relieved smile on his face, happy to see her. Isabella kept her face straight, no emotions whatsoever, but inside she felt like screaming.

  “Hey lovely ladies” he said happily, moving on to kiss Hillary and Isabella on the cheeks.