Moscow Mule - [Pierre Gasly]

XI

"We have arrived at your destination, miss Hosseini." The driver stopped in front of the restaurant in Milan. "Thank you," she muttered in response, grasping her Prada bag from the backseat and reaching for the handle of the door to open it. Her heels clicked on the floor as she crossed the sidewalk to reach the door of the restaurant. She pushed it open and made her way inside. Pierre was seated near the window in the back of the restaurant, a cup of coffee in front of him on the table. He looked up as she neared the table, and he was quick to get up. "Hey, you're here," he greeted her with a grin, his hand placing on her waist as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Live and in stereo," Azar replied with a small smile, her hand placing on his chest before she pulled back, and he walked around the table to pull a chair back for her. "So, before we go into the meeting to make it all something real, I wanted to show you some things that I've been thinking about ever since we called," Pierre continued, taking his phone out of his pocket and pulling up some pictures of the sketches. The waiter came by their table, and she ordered a coffee meanwhile, too.

Azar looked at his face before she looked down at the pictures, causing their eyes to meet for a couple of seconds. Pierre let out a soft breath as he looked at her pretty face that seemed to be barely wearing any make up. Some mascara on her lashes and a sheen gloss swept over her lips. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she looked possibly prettier than ever. Pierre showed her the sketches of the tops and sweaters, the material they were able to use and the process of it all. "Maybe it's nice to color match the sweaters for the men and the women clothing," he starts again. "Blues and greens, nice, deep, warm colours," Pierre says. "Alright," Azar said, sipping on the coffee that was put in front of her. "You need me for your campaign too, right?" Azar asked. "If you could model with me, it would be great," Pierre replied. "Hmm," she hummed, glancing at him from over her cup, but he could see her eyes sparkling. "Seems like I have some time to do that for you," Azar continued. "But one a condition," she added. "Which is?" One of Pierre's eyebrows rose. "That I will receive a PR package," she said. "Of course," Pierre chuckled. His coffee had become cold by now, but he didn't care.

Azar wrapped her hand around the cup again, her nails briefly tapping against the porcelain before she brought it to her mouth again. "I can't stay long, I have another meeting soon," she announced. "How long are you staying in Milan for?" Pierre asked, sitting back in his chair. "In two days," she replied. "I have tonight off," he continued, a slight grin starting to curl his lips. "You can come over, and I can cook you a nice spaghetti," he suggested. "You ended up in Milan for a guy anyway now," Pierre teased, making her let out a soft sigh. "The weather is good, we could even have dinner on my balcony," he added. "You're so desperate to have dinner with me, aren't you?" Azar asked. "Don't you have a race to prepare for?" Pierre shook his head. "Monaco is next week, I just finished Spain," he explained. "What time were you thinking of?" she asked next, looking at her phone as it gave a notification of her reminder of the meeting she had in half an hour. "Eight?" he suggested. "Fine," Azar said, standing up. "Text me your address, and I might show up," she said. "I know you will," Pierre said, getting up too, taking his jacket and walking up to the counter to draw his card and pay for both of them.

A car was outside, waiting for Azar. Pierre opened the door of the car as she swung her bag over her shoulder. "Thanks for meeting me," he said, and he meant it. His line at AlphaTauri clothing meant a lot to him. "You're welcome," Azar said. "See you tonight," she said, a small smile cheekily curled her lips. Her hand moved to his bicep as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but her lips pressed dangerously close to his mouth. Pierre looked down at her when she pulled away and then ducked down to get into the car. He licked his lips with a sigh as he pushed the door closed, and the car drove away. His teeth dug into his lower lip, a soft shake of his head following. Deep down he asked himself why he kept trying to pull her in, knowing she would have dinner with him tonight, maybe stay the tonight, and then he could only guess when he'd see her again. Nevertheless, he looked forward to work with her on his project. Pierre knew she would be the perfect person to have as a model. He couldn't wait to see her on the set and see the results. One thing was sure already, the F1 Gossip pages would go crazy if they found out they were working together after the pictures of the two of them in Miami.