Tangled in Trophies- Lando Norris

36. Coffee

Evangeline stood in front of her mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her red babydoll top. The color was bold, almost as striking as the Ferrari waiting for her in the garage. She paired it with black low-rise jeans, the kind that hugged her figure just right, and a addidas sambas boots that gave her an effortlessly casual but put-together look.

Her dark hair was loosely styled, falling over her shoulders in soft waves, and she dabbed on a touch of lip gloss before stepping back to survey her reflection. Not too dressed up, not too casual—just right for grabbing coffee with Lando.

But as she reached for her leather jacket, her thoughts lingered. This wasn't just a coffee run; not after everything that had been swirling in her head lately. She pushed the thoughts aside and headed out.

In the underground garage of her London apartment building, Evangeline approached her pride and joy: a cherry-red Ferrari 330 GTC. The car gleamed under the fluorescent lights, its vintage curves timeless and elegant.

Sliding into the driver's seat, she ran her fingers over the polished wooden steering wheel, a nostalgic smile tugging at her lips. She started the engine, and the car's iconic growl echoed through the garage, commanding attention even in the empty space. With a quick glance in the mirror, she adjusted her sunglasses and pulled out into the morning sun.

When Evangeline arrived at the café, she spotted Lando leaning casually against the wall near the entrance, his signature McLaren cap worn backward. He looked up as she parked, his face morphing into something between amusement and disbelief.

As she stepped out of the car, he pushed off the wall and walked over, pointing dramatically at the Ferrari. "You drive that?"

Evangeline arched an eyebrow, sliding her sunglasses up onto her head. "What's wrong with that?"

Lando shook his head, mock betrayal dripping from his voice. "A Ferrari? Seriously, Evangeline? Of all the cars in the world, you choose this? Do you know what team I drive for?"

She leaned against the car, crossing her arms and smirking. "Oh, relax. It's not like I bought it to spite McLaren. I just happen to have excellent taste."

He gestured wildly to the car. "This is more than a taste thing. This is... treason!"

Evangeline laughed, the sound light and unbothered. "It's not treason; it's sentimentality. My mum was a huge Ferrari fan when I was a kid. She used to park me in front of the TV and cheer like crazy for Schumacher. Buying this car just felt... right. Like a piece of her I could hold onto."

Lando's playful demeanor softened. He glanced at the car, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. "So, it's more than just a car for you."

She nodded, brushing her hair back. "It is. It's a connection to her. A reminder of those moments we shared, even though she's not here anymore."

Lando's teasing faded entirely as he met her gaze. "That's actually really nice. Makes me feel like a bit of a jerk for calling it the enemy's car."

Evangeline grinned, brushing him off. "Don't worry, Norris. I'll forgive you this time. But if you ever try to race me, just know you don't stand a chance."

Lando's grin returned, and he gestured toward the café. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood. Come on, let's get that coffee before I change my mind. But do me a favor—don't park this thing near McLaren HQ. I'll never hear the end of it."

She rolled her eyes, following him inside. The Ferrari sat gleaming in the parking lot, bold and unapologetic—a perfect reflection of its owner and the memories it carried.

Evangeline and Lando slipped into the café, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of cups creating a comfortable buzz around them. Lando subtly scanned the room, steering them to a small table tucked in the back corner, shielded from prying eyes.