hitched•cl•

17

As the plane made its descent into Vienna, Charles looked over to his wife, who was nervously tapping her fingers on the leather armrest. They had barely spoken on the flight, which had only caused Charles' anxiety levels to hit the roof. Give him a fast car and 150mph corners, and he felt nothing but joy, but the idea of meeting Presley's father made him want to bury his head in the sand.

Presley brought her eyes to meet Charles, "You've met my dad before, right?" She remarked as she bit down on her lip. He nodded, "And I'm sure he likes you?" the girl added as she blotted her lips like a fish gasping for air.

"That was before I married his only daughter in Vegas." Charles tensely commented. The words had been intended to lighten the mood but going by the scowl he received from his wife. It was not accepted as planned. "Come here," He said and patted the spot next to him on the sofa that he had been occupying. 

Presley nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt to sit in his embrace. Charles wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "It can't be worse than telling Vettel." He stated, to which Presley laughed. "So I'll let you tell my dad how you filled me with Tequila and then proposed a $47,000 diamond ring, yes?" She giggled before pressing her lips against his cheek. 

Perhaps that wouldn't be his opening line, but Charles was confident in his ability to win over Guenther Steiner. If Max Verstappen could win over Milo Crusoe, then anything was possible. Although, Max hadn't married Scarlet at a dodgy chapel with an Elvis impersonator. 

Charles reassured Presley that everything was going to be ok, and even though their time in Napa Valley had been cut short by the vindictive mood of her ex-boyfriend, the newlyweds found that they very much enjoyed their time together. 

However, once the plane had landed at the private airstrip and saw Guenther leant up against his black SUV, all feelings of positivity promptly left their bodies.

Charles let Presley exit the plane first whilst he came behind with their weekend bag slung over his shoulder. The crew brought the rest of their luggage and loaded it into the SUV. 

Once they were on the tarmac, Charles slipped his hand into Presleys, who squeezed it with appreciation. "It's all going to be ok," Presley stated, although you could tell that she didn't believe a word that she had just said. 

Presley had always been the apple of Guenther's eye, and he had done everything he could to make sure that she had the childhood he hadn't. Her schooling was of the best quality, and she was surrounded by people who cared for her, but seeing her at twenty-five and married to a man she barely knew was not something Guenther had planned.

"So I assume you didn't make any more bad decisions on the flight over, or will I be a grandpa in nine months?" Guenther fumed as his daughter and new husband stood a few feet away. "I am so disappointed; now get in the car before I decide to put you back on the plane." 

The two youths nodded and got into the back of the car. Charles looked to Presley, who had a tear bubbling in her glossy eyes. He placed his hand over hers, and she smiled. 

Charles daredn't ask where they were driving to; he just hoped that where it was would have phone service. He knew that Guenther wouldn't harm him, but Charles had also never seen the wrong side of the Haas Principal that Seb and Mick had told him existed. The Ferrari driver had also reached out the Kevin Magnussen, who frequently found himself on Guenther's nasty side, for advice, but it was little help. 

Fifteen minutes later, but what felt like an eternity, the car stopped in the driveway of a beautiful white mansion dotted with oak trees and a winding brook around the back of the house. Birds chirped as the stream rippled in the late evening breeze. If this is the house that Presley grew up in, Charles wondered why she lived for the bustle of the city. This house was the perfect house to raise a family. 

They got out of the car, and the fresh Austrian air hit their faces. It was chilled, far from the warmth of the Californian sun they had left. "I love what you've done with the garden, Dad." Presley smiled as she walked alongside her father. "Yes, sir, it is lovely here." Charles enthused as he rushed to be by the side of his wife. 

A grunt left the lips of the older man. "It is, yes." 

Presley looked to Charles with a furrowed brow. She wasn't sure how this evening would go, but she hoped that even though his attitude was warranted, her dad would drop it. As they walked through the front door, they were greeted with warm lighting and white marble flooring. Charles wasn't sure what he expected Guenther's house to look like, but this wasn't it. 

"So, I assume you will be sharing Presley's room?" He posed. 

Was this a test? What were they meant to reply? Presley remained quiet, so Charles mused that this was his chance to take control of the situation. However, that was easier said than done. 

Guenther cocked his head, "Are either of you going to answer, or are you not drunk enough?" He scoffed as he took off the brown coat he had been wearing and rested it over the winding bannister. 

Charles coughed and stepped forward, "It's nice to see you, Sir." He said in his most confident tone. He took Guenther's hand and shook it firmly. "I understand you are disappointed, but I like your daughter; I've liked her longer than she knows." 

Presley's eyes darted open. This was not something that they had discussed over wine or as their faces lay inches apart in bed. This was brand new information. 

"If you could just give me- give us the chance to show you, I think you will like me." Charles continued as Guenther pursed his lips and stroked his chin. He looked to his daughter, who was now clinging onto Charles' arm as if her life depended on it. Even Guenther could admit that they were a good looking couple. "I'm a respectful man from a good family, and I think you know that I have good career prospects so that I can provide for both of us."

However, the older gentleman was not about to let them get off the hook for such a disastrous choice of actions. Guenther nodded. "You married my daughter in Las Vegas, and your friend decided to Livestream it to the world. That's not exactly what comes to mind when I hear respectful."

Guenther looked down at Charles, doing his best to puff his chest. "You have a lot to prove, and whatever happens, you may not, under any circumstance, call me DAD."

••••

PART ONE OF MEETING DAD - CHECK

But something tells me that Guenther will not let this rest easy.