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  “It’s okay, don’t worry. But hey, the thirty-five women thing is funny. It certainly keeps my reputation going. You should write that” he stood up then, went around the table and sat right next to her. He smiled to the side and Isabella cleared her voice, feeling it dry all of a sudden.

  “Do you want to walk with me?” he whispered, while Noah and Hillary went on discussing the blog.

  His hypnotic stare felt like static on Isabella’s skin. She swallowed hard.

  “Now? Where?” she looked around but her boss and Noah were deep in conversation, checking out something on Noah’s social network page.

  It seemed inappropriate to leave the room like that during a meeting, but still her heart was beating so fast, Isabella could feel it pulsing in her throat. She wanted to leave with him.

  “Don’t you have to ask me stuff, to write up my profile?”

  Isabella nodded.

  “We could do that while walking around the facility, If you want. I don’t like sitting around much” he laughed a little to himself, like it was some sort of an inside joke. He then nudged to the door. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place.”

  They stood up, his hand rested on her shoulder as they walked to the door. Hillary looked up from her laptop and understandably asked where they were going. The meeting wasn’t over and she and Isabella had to leave soon.

  “What’s left to decide?” Christopher asked her.

  “Well…” Hillary began and checked her to do list for inspiration.

  “You do know that I’ll see you almost every day for a whole year, right?” Christopher raised his eyebrow with a grin on his face.

  “I suppose…”

  “Fantastic, luv. I’ll show Isabella around, so she can meet some of the guys downstairs. I’ll drive Isabella back to the hotel when we are done” he waved to Noah and gently pushed Isabella in the corridor.

  “I’m not getting in a car with you” Isabella stopped just outside the door, hands on her hips. She almost risked her life with Hillary, she thought it was enough excitement for one day. He chuckled, remembering what she had said the night before about not wanting to get in a racing car with him.

  Hillary popped her head in the corridor.

  “No Chris, I want Isabella back here in half an hour, tops. So we can work a little on Noah’s profile, too.”

  “Sure” but he seemed anything but okay with Hillary’s decision.

  “See you later guys” Isabella popped her head back in the room for a second, to wave at Noah and Hillary.

  Then Isabella put her camera bag around her shoulder and they walked side by side into a wide corridor with blue carpet. Everything in the building was gray, blue and emerald green, the colors of the team.

  They walked in silence to the end of the corridor and then turned right, all the way down two flights of stairs and in a training room.

  Chapter 3

  “You see this? This is where Noah and I spend most of our time when we are here. The rest of the time we spend with our engineers and mechanics, working out a strategy for the races” Isabella looked in the room and thought she had just stepped into a gym. Not that she knew what a gym looked like these days, as she could not remember the last time she had set foot in one. Actually, she did and the year started with 199... and not 2000. She was hopeless. And out of shape!

  She had never seen so much equipment and to her some looked as complex as rocket science. She had no idea what they were for.

  “How many hours do you exercise every day?” she circled a few treadmills and sat on a bench. He sat on a weight lifting machine for his legs. While she waited for his answer, Isabella pulled out her camera and placed the external flash on. There wasn’t much light in there at the moment so she needed as much as she could. He was watching her every move: the way she unbuckled the bag, how she delicately but still quickly handled her camera, screwing and unscrewing different lenses on, searching for the perfect one for the occasion. When she was satisfied with the setup, she looked up and realized he still hadn’t replied.

  “May I?” she asked, raising her camera. That was going to be the first of many times that she would be stalking him with her camera.

  “Sure”

  He then said:

  “I usually run, cycle or swim one hour in the morning. Then I come here for another hour or so” he padded the seat where he sat. “What about you?” She took a few snapshots of him and then one of the room before answering.

  The camera gave her the shield she needed, so she could look at him closely, without blushing. Besides his traits which were objectively stunning, she found some irresistible, interesting characteristics to his looks. Like the marks on his forehead or the little scar under his nose that seemed to brush over his upper lip. It made him so much more intense and complicated. And perfect.

  “Me? Well I like to do cappuccino lifting in the morning and then fork lifting during lunch and dinner time” she winked at him and he laughed a little. “But I do like swimming. I used to do that when I was younger. I don’t have much time anymore”

  “Well, you do now” he had a point. Isabella thought about it: no more waking up early to catch the train to Rome every morning, no more getting back home late in the evenings, tired and drained. Right now, her only stress would be to pack her bags every week or so. And of course do her best to show Mr. Jenkins she wasn’t the inexperienced little girl he thought she was. Other than that, she had a lot of free time. Or so she thought.

  “Which part of Italy are you from?” Christopher asked out of the blue. Isabella blinked twice before answering. Surely she was the one to ask questions here. Her job would be to write as much as she could about Christopher and Noah.

  Anyway, she thought it was nice that Christopher wanted to know her a little better, since they would be spending a lot of time together. Not to mention she found it exciting and flattering. She shook off her thoughts immediately and brought her feet back on the ground. He is just being nice, probably feels sorry for Mr. Jenkins’ rude behavior.

  “It’s a small town, just outside Rome. On the coast” she looked down at her hands while she said it. Sensing those penetrating eyes on her, she didn’t dare to look up. She felt all jittery as it was already. Damn butterflies.

  “I love Rome. Every year I come to Italy for the race and I stop a few nights in Rome. The city center is amazing, the food extraordinary and the people are funny. I don’t understand them of course, but they speak funny.”

  Yes they do. She smiled to herself. She could only imagine what he must have heard during his visits. Their accent and expressions were definitely entertaining. Don’t forget the hand gestures!

  “Do you have a big Italian family?” he asked, this time he began to exercise his legs. Every time he closed his legs, lifting up weights- Isabella couldn’t tell how much he was lifting from that distance- his expression tensed.

  “Yes. I have a brother and a sister. And lots of cousins” she took a couple of pictures of him while he exercised, the last one was particularly beautiful as he laughed a little surprised.

  “Nice. What’s that like?” he looked genuinely interested. Of course, Isabella remembered she had read that Christopher had no brothers or sisters and there were only him and his mom left.

  “Very loud. At all times. My brother is just like you, can’t sit still. My sister is very sweet and loud. My cousins, my uncle and aunts are nosy. All of them, no exception. As is my grandma, too. Your business is everybody’s business, at all times” she shook her head disapprovingly. It was incredible how ‘minding their own business’ was a foreign concept to them all.

  “I am guessing you share a lot, then” he smiled at her, still exercising.

  “Well, that’s not exactly how it goes. Sometimes, you just don’t have a choice” And that was the truth. Just as it had happened with her announcing she would be taking this job. That’s all she had wanted to share, but then in the end her private life had been pushed around al
l over the dinner table by her uncle. Not cool at all.

  “What did they say about you coming here?”

  “Surely I should be the one asking questions” she said, trying to interrupt his train of thoughts. He shook his head.

  “You know so much of me already, it is only fair I get to know you a little, too” she hated to admit it but he was right. The minute she had applied for the job, she had spent hours researching him, Noah, MB, the other drivers on the competing teams. And she had a lot of questions to ask him too. There were two question she was particularly dying to ask him, but refrained as they were too personal - one about his father, the other one about his supposedly hot model girlfriend.

  “Fine. Some of them were happy, some of them were jealous, some of them had to have a say about my personal life” her voice was full of resentment as she spoke the last part of the sentence. She was still annoyed at her uncle for stealing her thunder.

  “What about your personal life?” Christopher sat up, stopped doing whatever he was doing and waited for her answer.

  It had been a natural reaction to her words, Christopher was eager to know more of the sexy, smart woman in front of him, especially if the topic was ‘personal life’, meaning relationship status. Sensing that he had given something away with his behavior, he stood and changed machinery, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, as if he wasn’t at all interested in her answer and fully concentrated on his exercise. Nice save, he thought.

  “I have no personal life. There. Favorite color red, favorite food sushi, favorite music Rock. There you go, now you know a lot about me. More than I know about you. Can we start talking about work?”

  “Sure, but first you have to come with me on track” he grinned and then walked towards her and offered his hand.

  “I’m sorry, what?” he kept doing that, jumping from one thing to another, surprising her all the time.

  “Let’s try out the circuit” he indicated the race track, which was clearly visible through the big glass windows.

  Isabella shook her head and let out a laugh. Exactly what was it he didn’t get? That she was scared of speed? Of cars in general? Just as she was about to rebut, Christopher looked at her with such an intense stare Isabella couldn’t say anything for a few seconds. There was something in the way he looked at her, like his eyes tried to dig deep down her soul and discover every little details of her, that made her lightheaded.

  He saw doubts in her eyes, while she was searching for a polite way to get out of his invite.

  “Breathe Miss Bresciani, we’ll use bikes” Christopher smiled to the side. “It’s not even raining anymore, I’ll lend you one of my jackets. Come on, it will be fun. And if you can keep up with me, you can ask me any question you like”

  That did it. The curious journalist/woman in her gave in. Isabella was dying to know more about him. Because she needed material to start writing something in the blog, that was all. It was just work.

  I’m lying to myself now. Super, next stop: mental asylum, she thought.

  Without saying anything else, they went outside through a large glass door, bumped into a few people there, probably engineers or mechanics. Christopher said hello to everyone and introduced Isabella as Hillary’s assistant.

  She blushed every now and then, as she heard Christopher’s deep voice say her name. It sounded like the sexiest thing ever pronounced by human kind.

  “This is Robert’s, my engineer. I’m sure he won’t mind” He said, handing her a bicycle. Then, he turned around and went back in to grab two jackets.

  They were both blue and gray and had the team logo in green. “Here, I have a spare” He helped her into one and as their skins touched, Isabella’s heart seemed to beat fast like a drum.

  “How do I look?” she teased, hand on her hip, pretending to be a model. The jacket was twice her size but at least it was warm. Even though it had stopped raining, it still felt pretty cold and humid. But another touch of his skin would be enough to warm me up, her mind trailed on.

  “Like a real driver” He gave her a good look and smiled.

  They got on their bikes -helmets safely on- and, without saying anything further, he started peddling.

  “Come on, race me to the first curve. If you win you can ask away” He said looking back at her.

  “Wait! That’s cheating!!!” she yelled behind him. Isabella quickly put her camera safely around her neck and started peddling fast.

  She was soon right next to him. Even though she hated cycling like hell, she had a great motivation and she wasn’t going to lose without a good fight.

  As they raced on the track, Isabella couldn’t help but notice the tarmac was obviously still wet and the sunrays made the gray surface shining as a slate of glass.

  They were side by side, laughing like two kids. Isabella put all her strength in it. Her legs felt like wings, never she had put so much energy in a sport. My legs are going to be so soar tonight, I’ll regret this. Still, she was determined to win.

  It felt like Christopher was holding back a little, like he was making fun of her and then towards the end he would speed up, leaving her like an idiot behind, crushing her excitement of winning. Just like her brother had done hundreds of times.

  Well, too bad for Christopher. She was one step ahead of him.

  The first curve was in sight, it was a sharp right turn. Isabella looked sideways to see Christopher’s expression. He had the smuggest smile ever. That smugness of his was going to bite him back. She waited a few more seconds and then she clutched the brakes.

  “Ouch!!!” she slowed down a little and touched her right calve, faking a cramp. Immediately, Christopher grasped his brakes too, circled around and went back to see what was up.

  Meanwhile, Isabella hadn’t exactly stopped the bike yet, she was going really slow. Her face was the representation of agony. The curve was right there in front of them.

  “Let me…” but before he could finish, Isabella ripped that smug smile off his face by peddling with all the strength she had left in her body. She heard him yelling, he had started cycling again but it was too late. She could not stop laughing. She stood up, to peddle even harder, to give herself the final speed she needed to finish the curve. And there it was! She had won.

  “YESSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!” she screamed, letting go the handlebar and raising her hands in the sky like a real winner. She pretended to wave to the crowd –just like she had seen Christopher and other drivers do on TV, when she still watched the race with her father- before grinning in his direction.

  In another context, if she had been actually racing her brother, she would have gotten off the bike to do her little, annoying, ‘in your face’ victory dance. But Isabella decided it wasn’t a good idea to make a fool out of herself and scare Christopher off so quickly. She had been inappropriate enough for one day, with her stupid question about his lucky ritual.

  “You tricked me” he said, amused at her excitement.

  “I call it: distracting the competition. The screaming, the touching of the calve, so dramatic but effective. A little trick I used to play on my brother” she was hyper now.

  Men were so easy to fool sometimes. It was the good old ‘damsel in distress’ situation. Typical.

  “It wasn’t your Oscar winning performance…” he smiled to the side. “You won when you stood up to peddle faster. THAT was very distracting”

  Her cheeks went up in flames in an instant and she thought about herself, peddling like that, her round behind moving up and down. Oh God.

  “Anyway, I won. So I get to ask the questions here” she tried to divert the attention. Back to business, ignore the flirting. As if it were possible. She was working with a god.

  “You’re the boss” he looked ahead with the same sexy smile on his lips as before. God that smile… does he ever stop smiling? And when will I get used to working with such a hottie? Isabella couldn’t help but wonder.

  They peddled slowly around the circuit. Despite the c
old breeze, it was lovely to cycle around the track, where usually cars sped like madness. There were some skid marks, probably fresh ones too.

  “Before I start with the actual questions about yourself, there is something I must ask you” She looked at him briefly and cleared her voice.

  Christopher nodded but didn’t say anything, he just cycled on, keeping the same pace as Isabella’s.

  “Hillary and I want to make sure you guys are comfortable with us around. So what I need to know is how do you want me to represent you? What do you want your fans to see in you and I also need to know now what are the things you don’t want to talk about”

  Christopher didn’t flinch or didn’t even look the slightest uncomfortable talking about himself. Of course, Isabella thought, he was used to all of this, the questions, the pictures being taken.

  She had to keep in mind that this man had probably been in the spotlight all his life, also due to his father’s accident. It shouldn’t come to her surprise how cool he sounded when he said:

  “I want the fans to see what I am like. I am always available to them when it comes to signing and taking pictures. Camera’s, journalists, they don’t bother me. No matter where I am. The only moment I don’t want to be disturbed is before a race. That’s off limits. I can be very nasty when I am concentrating and someone interferes” he grinned and then added, his face now serious “And I don’t want to talk about my father’s accident, I’m tired of talking about it. I’d rather not talk about him at all, but I realize that’s kind of impossible. He was a champion and they compare me to him all the time”

  Isabella nodded, making a mental note to herself not to bring up the subject. It must have been very frustrating for Christopher to hear the same questions about his father, about the accident that changed his life.