Love, Leclerc (Complete)

2. Accommodations

*all dialogue spoken in french*

"The weather looks awful today" I said, regarding to the thick blanket of clouds settling over the Circuit De Paul Ricard.

"Hopefully it will clear up by tonight, the dinner party in Toulon is when? Ten o'clock?"

"Yes, I had Marsie book our table for ten o'clock, although you can never be sure with her that it will go through,"

I shot her a sarcastic look, fizzed out with polite laughter.

"No, I wont be going," Marsie remarked angrily, "I'm going to catch a horrible cold with this wind."

She folded her arms across her chest with a huff.

I looked to the track, sipping on my glass of champagne. The F1 cars zoomed around the circuit below us, in qualifying for tomorrow's race.

"I heard a lot of people are going to be there," said an unwelcomed visiter settling in to a chair on the deck. Laurent; my boyfriend.

He was drinking a tall; a bit too tall, glass of champagne for early afternoon. He was followed by a nervous-looking young waiter.

"Unlimited drinks on the mezzanine!" he said with a drowned out chuckle, "who is winning the race?"

His dress shirt was slightly wrinkled, his hair pushed straight back. He wore a signature pair of circular sunglasses despite the lack of sun.

He stood and acted in his usual authoritative manner as if the whole world belongs to him. And in a weird way, it seemingly does.

"A Ferrari numbered 16; fastest into q3 so far. Not sure who the driver is though," I replied, squinting to see the scoreboard atop pit row.

In the circuit down below the cars were only colorful blurs, followed by a horrible loud squeal.

The young people conversed politely amoungst themselves, sipping drinks and watching the cars.

"So when will your father come back to Italy, do you know?" Louise turned to me.

I looked down at my skirt, smoothing out the fabric to avoid eye contact.

"No, I do not know. He has been in Moscow for weeks. The last time I talked to him was before he left." I took a sip, finishing off my glass. "and he says he will be there for a long while more."

"Pity, do you know what he is doing there at least?"

"No-"

Of course I knew. But some things are best not said.

"Ahh I hate those folk, last time I was there they didnt allow me to leave and delayed my plane by two whole hours due to some stupid clouds. And the weather was fine! I dont know what they were on about!" Laurent blurted. His speech was followed by a crack of thunder from overhead.

The whole group gave him a look. But I was greatful for him changing the subject.

Q3 was now over and a light rain began to sprinkle. The large crowds in the grandstands began to disperse.

"And on that note," He stood up from his wicker patio chair, "My car should be ready". He placed his empty champagne glass on the side table.

"Ladies," He added with a formal nod and adjusted his glasses. He grabbed my hand and pressed his lips to it.

"Good luck leaving, the roads to Toulon are going to be a toss," said Marsie.

"For my driver".

"Well, you are in the car too, are you not?" I added in with a laugh, letting my hand to be encapsulated in his.

"Well how are you getting there then?" He said in a spitting manner.

"A beautiful invention called a helicopter, which has conviently parked in the neighboring field. Have fun though." I said teasingly, with my long brown hair falling into my eyes.

His face changed into one of jealousy, and snapped at the waiter to alert his driver of the departure.

"Love you. See you at the party my beautiful one" said Laurent in his thick french accent before making his exit.

I nodded in response, not knowing if I loved him or not.