In the scenic south of Italy, political adviser Ana escapes her demanding career for a much-needed vacation. In a quaint village, she meets Lando, a charming and energetic F1 driver who is also seeking respite from his fast-paced life. Their encount...
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AnaVillanueva: still out of the office (surprisingly)🇪🇸
Ana's POV
After the qualifying session, Lucas and I head back to the hotel. As we walk to our rooms, Lucas turns to me with a hopeful look.
"Ana, do you want to grab dinner tonight?" he asks casually. "I know a great place nearby."
I hesitate, thinking about my plans with Lando. "Actually, I already have plans tonight," I say, choosing my words carefully. "I'm meeting a friend I haven't seen in a while."
Lucas raises an eyebrow but quickly recovers with a smile. "Alright, I understand. Just make sure to join us for the celebratory party tomorrow after the race. We've organized something special for the winner."
"Of course," I reply, smiling back. "And Lucas, don't stress too much about the celebration. I'm sure it'll be great no matter who wins."
He chuckles. "Well, it would be perfect if it's Carlos Sainz. You know how much my family loves Ferrari. Plus, I have a bit of a stake in this with the other sponsors."
I laugh lightly, masking my discomfort. "Betting on the outcome, are we?"
He shrugs, grinning. "Just a friendly wager. But I wouldn't mind winning."
"Got it," I say, still smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
"See you, Ana. Enjoy your dinner," he says with a knowing smile before turning toward his room.
I sigh softly as I walk to my own. Dinner with Lando. The thought alone fills me with a flutter of excitement. It's been a whirlwind of a weekend so far, and I'm genuinely looking forward to seeing him again. I reach my room, freshen up, and slip into a comfortable yet elegant outfit. Nothing too flashy, but something that makes me feel like... me.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with a message from Lando.
Lando:I'm here. Ready when you are.
I take a deep breath, smooth down my dress, and head down to the lobby. As I step outside, I spot Lando leaning casually against his car, wearing a crisp white Dior shirt and his signature cap. When he sees me approaching, he straightens up, a bright smile lighting up his face. In his hand, he's holding a small bouquet of white lilies and blush-colored roses.
"These are for you," he says, handing me the flowers with a slightly sheepish grin.
"Thank you," I reply, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks. "They're beautiful."
We get into the car and drive to a restaurant he picked out — a hidden gem with a private seating area and a cozy, intimate atmosphere. As we settle into our table, the waiter pours us each a glass of wine. Lando raises his glass, his eyes never leaving mine.
"To a great evening," he toasts.
"To a great evening," I echo, clinking my glass with his.
"So, how was your day?" Lando asks, his gaze genuinely curious.
