: ̗̀➛ part three of the
one for the road series
SNOWFALL / CL16
in which two childhood friends reunite. a formula one driver wants to learn how to snowboard and it just so happens that the daughter of his mum's be...
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✧ ˚ · . CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR. · ˚✧ all of our book's pages dog-eared
bahrain, march 2023
I was exhausted and it was only Friday afternoon of a weekend I knew to be filled with long days at the track and many engagements in between. The jet lag was hitting me harder than I had expected, and it was proving difficult to keep my eyes from sagging as I stared at the floor plans on my laptop. Something was missing, but I couldn't figure out what exactly that was. I flicked between tabs, instead opening the mood board I was in the process of making for this new client.
I had arrived on Thursday afternoon, and had spent the rest of the day working on a project presentation that I had had an online meeting for earlier today. As much as I had wanted to support Charles during the first free practice sessions of the season, I unfortunately was stuck in the process of obtaining more clients. It was a wonder I had managed to arrange these meetings in an online format—a stroke of luck meant that the client it was for was situated in L.A., meaning they were more than open to the alternate meeting style seeing as it meant they didn't have to fly up and down to Paris.
With the success of the Ritz gala and the positive effect it had had on the marketing for Beaumont Interiors (as well as Charles' presence being broadcasted and milked significantly in the media by the Ritz, which I had not foreseen beforehand), it meant both Celine and I were working overtime trying to speed through the process of listing as many new clients as possible and planning out projects for the course of the upcoming year.
The market was booming, and with the new audience the success of the Ritz project had opened up for us, it meant that the commissions I would gain from these new projects was enough motivation to keep my eyes open for just a little bit longer as the sun set behind the tall skyscrapers that the city of Bahrain boasted.
I had kept a close eye on the free practice live streams besides my meetings throughout the day, watching for the first time how the Ferrari SF23 performed on track. There had been a slew of mechanical updates—a long list that Charles had recited off the top of his head and which I had forgotten in the blink of an eye—that had improved the car drastically compared to testing the week prior.
Charles and I's hotel room was, as he had explained on a FaceTime call, more luxurious than usual due to his extended stay in the city. There were two rooms excluding the ensuite bathroom, with the bedroom offering a picturesque view of the skyline with a wall of windows. It was jaw dropping, and incredibly distracting when trying to focus. The second room was meant to serve as a small living room, but had become an explosion of clothes where both mine and Charles' suitcases were opened on the floor, clothes and shoes in piles to the point the edges of either of the cases were no longer visible.
"I don't know what to wear on top of these trousers," Charles huffed behind me, breaking me from my trance, the mood board still untouched on my laptop, boasting the edits I had done about two hours ago during my last burst of productivity. I turned around in my chair, only to find a shirtless Charles, wearing only a pair of linen trousers. With the light of the setting sun shining on him, highlighting the toned muscles of his stomach, he looked like a son of a God. I could never quite get used to that sight.
