𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 | 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

02

[ MARANELLO, ITALY ]
JANUARY 2021

THE HILLSIDES OF Italy were beautiful despite the winter weather.

"Nervous?" asked Adrian. He offered to drive Reina to her interview, and seeing that Reina had no better way of getting there, she agreed.

They sat in his luxurious car, speeding down roads. Although initially hesitant about the job, it came with lots of benefits: traveling the world, getting a one-of-a-kind view of races, and of course, the pay. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted the job.

"A little," responded Reina. That was a lie—her bottom lip was chewed raw by this point. She was a lot nervous.

As the car pulled into the Ferrari headquarters's driveway, Reina could hear her pulse. Thump. Thump. Thump. The car slowed to a stop and Adrian turned off the engine. Reina stepped out of the car, adjusting her navy blazer and pencil skirt (which, by the way, were incredibly suffocating—she preferred to work in scrappy tees and jeans).

"This way," said Adrian, leading her to the lobby.

Despite her anxious feelings, Reina marvelled at the sheer size and grandeur of the Ferrari headquarters. They certainly had lots of money to spend.

"Mattia!" called Adrian, waving over a man. "This is my sister, Reina. She's the photographer I was telling you about. Reina, this is Mattia Binotto, the team principal for Scuderia Ferrari. I help his team with car design, sometimes."

Reina, who was staring open-mouthed at the building's skylight ceilings, immediately looked back down. "It's a pleasure," she said, shaking Mattia's hand.

"Ah, yes. Adrian showed me your work. Bellissima." said Mattia.

Reina nodded. "Thank you. I actually have the interview for the job in a couple minutes."

"Good luck. I am sure you will do fine." He checked his watch. "Apologies for my rushed manners, I have a meeting to attend," said Mattia. Turning towards Adrian, he said, "See you."

Reina and Adrian continued up a flight of stairs until he led her to a door.

"Lista?" he asked. (Ready?)

"Sí," said Reina. "Adrian... gracias." (Yes... Adrian, thank you)

"Por supuesto, Reinita." (Of course, Reinita)

The interview room was large and white. It reminded Reina of a hospital ward. Five men sat at a semi-circular table, and a chair was placed in the middle of the room, with all five interviewers in front of her.

"Reina Amaral Reyes?" asked one of the men.

"Yes," replied Reina. "Good afternoon."

"Likewise. Have a seat, Ms. Amaral."

Reina sat down on the cold, hard chair. After some general questions—prior experience, job details, and background—the real interview began.

"So, tell us. What do you think is unique about your photography that we would not be able to find in other photographers?"

Reina paused. "It takes a special photographer to see the world in a manner that renders it timeless—a photographer must be able to capture art that will last centuries, that will still ignite feelings of excitement whether looking at it for the first time or the fiftieth. With the apprenticeships and training I've been lucky to receive, I've learned to do that in not just portrait photography, but still-life and sports photography too. Whether it's in a news report tomorrow or a museum a hundred years from now, I can help bring spectators from around the world into the world of F1 from the comfort of their own homes."

The panel of interviewers nodded, jotting notes down and whispering amongst themselves.

Reina feared she answered incorrectly, but another question was sprung up. And then another. The questioning went on for what felt like a century, but Reina managed to keep her composure.

"Thank you Ms. Amaral, we'll have an answer regarding the position soon."

Reina stood up, shaking the hands of each of the interviewers. She left the interview room, and as soon as she stepped outside, closing the door behind her, she let out a great sigh of relief.

"How'd it go?" asked Adrian, who was waiting.

Reina shrugged. "Not sure. We'll have to see."

But later that afternoon, as Reina sipped on a coffee in her hotel room, she got a call.

"Hello, may I speak to Ms. Amaral Reyes?"

Reina's heart started to pick up. She knew who this was. "This is she."

"Hello, Ms. Amaral, this is Mattia Binotto. We met earlier in the lobby?"

"Yes, hello! How are you?"

"Fine, thank you," replied Mattia. "Ms. Amaral, I am calling because... I have the pleasure of informing you that we would like to hire you as the head photographer for the Scuderia Ferrari. I asked to be the one to personally deliver this news, as your brother is a friend of mine."

Reina, silently jumping up and down to prevent herself from screaming, responded, "I- wow. Thank you so much, Mr. Binotto."

"Mattia is fine," he replied. "And it is truly my pleasure. Someone from HR will contact you shortly with details."

"Thank you," said Reina, breathless from her jumping. "I look forward to it."

"Congratulations, Ms. Amaral. Arrivederci," he said, greeting her farewell in Italian.

Reina, from her room, barreled down the hall to her brother's room. Furiously knocking on his door, she repeatedly called, "Adrian! Adrian! Adrian!"

Finally, the groggy brunet opened the door. "Qué? Yo estaba tomando mi siesta." (What? I was taking my siesta.)

"Ferrari called."

That woke him up. "Already?" he asked.

Reina nodded.

His eyes widened. "And?"

Reina paused for suspense. "I GOT THE JOB!"

"Felicidades!" he exclaimed, giving her a hug. "Dinner is on me, tonight. We must celebrate." (Congratulations!)

Reina grinned. She finally felt hopeful for the first time in a long time.