When a woman with a dark, secretive past, falls in love, with not one, not two, but three Formula 1 drivers. But the only question is, who will she choose
OC (Jules Bianchi's "daughter," and Former racer) X Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, and Charle...
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I stand in the academy lobby, wondering where in the world Tilly's driver is. It's currently pouring down rain, and from what I know, I'm all alone. Yup, that's right, no one else is here, just me.
I click on Tilly's contact, Come on Matilda, pick up.
Voicemail, No answer.
I press on the Uber app hoping someone can come rescue me from this mess. Normally, I love the rain. I love the smell, the feeling, the art of the rain, but being alone and stuck in the rain is not a feeling I like.
I start to request an Uber, going through the whole process, when I hear a notice that makes me jump.
The elevator goes off, I'm not alone.
I look up at the man, now walking out of the elevator.
Of course, he has to work with me, I can never find a hot guy without some weird string attached. Why is life so unfair?
He smiles at me, "Crazy Weather, Right?"
I laugh at him, "Yes, indeed."
He walks up to me holding his hand out, "Charles, I don't think I've seen you before, are you New?" I nod, "Lana, Yes, today was my first day." He looks me in the eyes, "That explains why you're here so late on," he pauses, "Tuesday!" I give him a confused look, "What's so special about Tuesday?" "Every Tuesday, everybody leaves, giving the drivers extra time to practice. I'm surprised they didn't tell you anything." I shake my head, "It's alright, I know now, thank you." I go to turn, but he grabs my wrist, "Wait!"
He glances at my phone, seeing my request about to go through. "Do you need a ride? I can take you anywhere you need, Please, It will be a welcoming gesture."
I look at him, unsure. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"
He laughs, "Of course not, Mon Amour, come follow me," he starts to walk over to a room labeled, DRIVER'S LOT: NO ENTRY WITHOUT PASS
He scans his pass, and his name, along with a photo of him a couple of years younger pops up. Charles Leclerc, That sounds so familiar.
Charles walks up to a Ferrari, walks around to the passenger's side, and opens the door, "Ladies First." I beam with happiness, "Thank you, Charles."
He mumbles something sweet before walking to his side. His phone automatically connects to Bluetooth, with a song coming on. The Hills by the Weeknd
"You listen to this type of music," his French accent slips out. I have to google this guy when I get home.
"I listen to anything and Everything."
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It's been about five-ish minutes in silence, and that's when Charles chuckles, "I just realized I don't have your address, care to send it to me, Amour?"
