It Ain't My Fault

9.1K 110 8
                                    


Part 1


I never in a million years would have expected to be line dancing at a random dive bar in a small Italian village to Alan Jackson but here I am and let me just say, I'm having a blast. The handsome Italian man standing beside me is trying his hardest to keep up with the dance but he's having a little trouble. He's being a good sport about it though so I can't complain.

 "Bellisima, where did you learn to dance like this?" He shouts over the music. I do a little spin and give him a smile as I answer that I'm from Texas and practically came out of the womb being able to line dance.

"Ahh the outfit makes much more sense now." He says looking down at my very scuffed up cowboy boots up to my short yellow sundress with little white daisies on it, both that I've had since high school. I wink at him once his eyes come back up to my face and I watch as his cheeks turn a little pink knowing that he got caught checking me out.

 I know I'm an attractive woman. I have long dark brown wavy hair that hangs down to my waist and big ocean blue eyes. My skin tans nicely in the summer time and I'm blessed with being pretty tall and having a fast metabolism that keeps me thin even after having a child and also being 30 years old. Speaking of that child, I realize that he's calling me. I pull out my vibrating phone from where I had it hidden in my dress and take a step outside of the bar. Once outside I quickly answer my phone, not wanting to miss the call.

"My baby! How did your race go?!" I say excitedly which makes him chuckle. I smile as I hear him, and realize how much I miss him.

"I won again! Have you been drinking?" He asks with a stern voice but laughs indicating he's joking.

"Congratulations baby!! And yes, I have! You better stop judging me, I'm still young!" I tell him, as I notice a very nice car pull into the parking lot of the dive bar. It's a Ferrari and way too nice to be in this part of town. My eyes remain on the car, waiting for their owner to emerge while I listen to my baby's response.

"You are Mama and you deserve to have some fun. Just be safe, please?" He says and my heart melts. My sweet, sweet boy. I'm distracted by his sweet words that I don't see the owner of the Ferrari until he passes by me, heading into the bar. He gives me a small smile and a nod as he walks through the door. He's probably one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. Dark floppy hair, green eyes from the looks of it and just the right amount of facial hair to be sexy. For some reason he looks really familiar but I can't put my finger on why.

"I will be. I promise." I say into my phone as I stare at the bar door closing, wracking my brain on why I recognize that man.

"Good. Well I just wanted to call and tell you about my win. I miss you."

"I miss you too, baby. Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you. I wish I could have been there to see it." I tell him as tears threaten to fall from my eyes. It's been a few weeks since I've seen him, he's been with his karting team training and going to different races all over Europe.

"Hopefully you'll be able to come see a race soon now that it's summer break and you won't have school." He says with such hope that I don't want to tell him that I just got a second job for the summer, helping at one of the local restaurants while school is out and I'm not teaching.

"I sure hope so! Listen baby, I got to go. My song is playing and I'm the only one here who will appreciate it. I'll talk to you soon, I love you!" I tell him, partially because I don't want to lie to him, and partially because my song is just starting to play. He chuckles and tells me to enjoy the rest of my night and that he loves me. He also told me to send him a text when I get home. I agree and quickly hang up the phone, stuffing it into my dress once more as I walk through the door dancing along to 'It Ain't My Fault' by Brothers Osborne and singing along as I make my way to the makeshift dance floor in the center of the bar.

Here With Me - A Formula 1 StoryWhere stories live. Discover now