Don't Blame Me | Charles Leclerc

Chapter 14

"I'm nervous" Diana whispered as she and Charles walked to the front door of his childhood home.

He turned his head to look at her, smiled softly and squeezed her hand tighter. He was all happy since he got to Monaco on Monday, but this was a different type of happiness. He was glowing. He couldn't wait for his family to meet Diana.

"Don't worry. I have told you a million times, they're going to love you" He reassured her again, pulled the keys out of his pocket and picked out the right one.

"I know, but..." Her sentence got interrupted by a woman walking fast towards them, speaking French.

Charles closed the door behind them, chatted with her for a few seconds and kissed her cheeks. Then he gestured towards Diana and introduced her, or at least that's what Diana hoped he did because she couldn't understand a single word they were saying.

"Hi, I'm Pascale, Charles' mom" The woman turned to Diana, put her hands on Diana's shoulders and leaned in for a traditional French greeting.

Pascale's lips didn't touch Diana's skin at all. What seemed like a cheek kiss was actually a cheek-to-cheek contact with a quiet kiss sound.

The woman had a few wrinkles around her eyes and on the forehead, but it just added to her beauty. Her blonde hair looked like it was freshly done in a hair salon, but Diana reminded herself Charles told her his mom is a hairdresser, so she most likely did it herself. She was wearing a little bit of makeup and she smelled like flowers.

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Leclerc, I'm Diana" The Brit greeted her politely, while Pascale took off her cooking apron.

"Oh no honey, please, call me Pascale. It makes me feel younger" She joked to loosen up the atmosphere. "The boys are setting up the table, Charles, so why don't you two join them? Dinner is going to be ready in a minute"

She smiled and walked away, not waiting for a response. Charles and Diana took off their shoes and made their way to the kitchen table, where two men debated over which forks would be better to use.

"The wide ones are more practical! You get more food on them, so you eat faster" The younger one made a point.

"Not everything is a race, Arthur. You should enjoy a meal, not stuff yourself as fast as possible" The older one grunted, clearly annoyed.

"I swear Arthur could make a competition out of everything" Charles laughed and made two men turn around to face the couple.

Their faces lit up as soon as they realised their brother was finally home. They dropped everything and came to say hello, introducing themselves to Diana.

The older one, Lorenzo, looked somehow familiar. Diana wondered for a minute if she ever saw him before, but couldn't put a finger on it. She probably just passed by him on the street on one of her visits in Monaco.

She already knew Arthur was the youngest, also a racing driver, making his way into Formula 1 to compete with his brother. She didn't have the chance to meet him yet as every time she could attend a race weekend, Formula 2 was racing in a different place.

Looking at the three of them and their mom, she knew where did they get the good looking genes from. She also saw a few pictures of Charles' dad when he was younger and they definitely had some of his features. Strong jawlines and identical noses were from him, but they all had their mom's eyes. A genetic lottery jackpot.

Pascale came into the dining room holding a big, steamy vase. Lorenzo and Arthur finished setting up the table, finally opting for the narrow forks. They all took their seats and Pascale, as the head of the house, poured the soup for everyone.