Chapter Text
I never in a million years would have expected to be line dancing at a random dive bar in a small Italian village to Alan Jackson but here I am and let me just say, I'm having a blast. The handsome Italian man standing beside me is trying his hardest to keep up with the dance but he's having a little trouble. He's being a good sport about it though so I can't complain.
“Bellisima, where did you learn to dance like this?" He shouts over the music. I do a little spin and give him a smile as I answer that I'm from Texas and practically came out of the womb being able to line dance.
"Ahh the outfit makes much more sense now." He says looking down at my very scuffed up cowboy boots up to my short yellow sundress with little white daisies on it, both that I've had since high school. I wink at him once his eyes come back up to my face and I watch as his cheeks turn a little pink knowing that he got caught checking me out.
I know I'm an attractive woman. I have long dark brown wavy hair that hangs down to my waist and big ocean blue eyes. My skin tans nicely in the summer time and I'm blessed with being pretty tall and having a fast metabolism that keeps me thin even after having a child and also being 30 years old. Speaking of that child, I realize that he's calling me. I pull out my vibrating phone from where I had it hidden in my dress and take a step outside of the bar. Once outside I quickly answer my phone, not wanting to miss the call.
"My baby! How did your race go?!" I say excitedly which makes him chuckle. I smile as I hear him, and realize how much I miss him.
"I won again! Have you been drinking?" He asks with a stern voice but laughs indicating he's joking.
"Congratulations baby!! And yes, I have! You better stop judging me, I'm still young!" I tell him, as I notice a very nice car pull into the parking lot of the dive bar. It's a Ferrari and way too nice to be in this part of town. My eyes remain on the car, waiting for their owner to emerge while I listen to my baby's response.
"You are Mama and you deserve to have some fun. Just be safe, please?" He says and my heart melts. My sweet, sweet boy. I'm distracted by his sweet words that I don't see the owner of the Ferrari until he passes by me, heading into the bar. He gives me a small smile and a nod as he walks through the door. He's probably one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. Dark floppy hair, green eyes from the looks of it and just the right amount of facial hair to be sexy. For some reason he looks really familiar but I can't put my finger on why.
"I will be. I promise." I say into my phone as I stare at the bar door closing, wracking my brain on why I recognize that man.
"Good. Well I just wanted to call and tell you about my win. I miss you."
"I miss you too, baby. Congratulations again, I'm so proud of you. I wish I could have been there to see it." I tell him as tears threaten to fall from my eyes. It's been a few weeks since I've seen him, he's been with his karting team training and going to different races all over Europe.
"Hopefully you'll be able to come see a race soon now that it's summer break and you won't have school." He says with such hope that I don't want to tell him that I just got a second job for the summer, helping at one of the local restaurants while school is out and I'm not teaching.
"I sure hope so! Listen baby, I got to go. My song is playing and I'm the only one here who will appreciate it. I'll talk to you soon, I love you!" I tell him, partially because I don't want to lie to him, and partially because my song is just starting to play. He chuckles and tells me to enjoy the rest of my night and that he loves me. He also told me to send him a text when I get home. I agree and quickly hang up the phone, stuffing it into my dress once more as I walk through the door dancing along to 'It Ain't My Fault' by Brothers Osborne and singing along as I make my way to the makeshift dance floor in the center of the bar.
The people in the bar are staring, I can feel so many sets of eyes watching me. I don't blame them for staring. I'm an enigma to them, a crazy American. One who wears cowboy boots and plays country music on the jukebox in a dive bar in the middle of Italy. My whole life I've been a spectacle, so why would I stop now? It's not like I'll ever see these people again so I might as well have some fun. So I let myself pretend they aren't here, that I'm back at home in Texas, back to when I was a carefree teenager with no responsibilities. Someone who loved life and everything about it. Someone who had no worries beyond who I was going to go to the drive in movie theater with that weekend. I let myself smile, I let myself be free as I sing and dance along to the song.
My fantasy breaks when the Italian man from before approaches me again, grabbing my hips, pulling me against him so he can dance with me. This is one thing I dislike about Italy, or Europe in general. Men don't seem to care about personal space and they just do what they want. It's innocent enough but it gets old. I grab his hands from my hips and remove them with a smile, letting him down easy. He nods and takes a step back but remains dancing next to me for the remainder of the song.
Once the song ends I excuse myself to find the bathroom. I don't actually have to go, I just needed to get away from him. Stepping into the bathroom, I walk to the mirror to check my reflection. I'm not wearing much makeup, just some mascara and some blush. My mascara is a bit smudged so I fix it and then splash a little water on my neck and chest because I'm hot and sweaty from all the dancing. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser I wipe away the excess water and then walk myself back towards the bar. The music is back to what it was when I came in earlier, and I'm sure the locals are relieved.
When I walk up to the bar, I order another whiskey sour. As the bartender makes my drink, I turn around in my seat and lean against the bar while I people watch. My eyes scan the bar that's surprisingly packed for being in the middle of nowhere Italy. As my eyes make the rounds, they spot the man from earlier, the one who was driving the Ferrari. Again, there is something so familiar about him. I'm staring at him so intensely, trying to figure it out, that when his eyes flash to me I don't realize it until it's too late. He caught me staring and he doesn't look very happy about it. Well shit.
"Here you go." The bartender says behind me, and I turn around to face him giving him a thanks as I take a sip of the drink. It's delicious, probably one of the best whiskey sours I've ever had. I'm taking another sip when someone comes up to sit beside me at the bar. I turn to the side to see who it is, and it's Ferrari man. He's holding a beer and staring at me expectantly like he's waiting for me to say something even though he's the one who approached me. Cocky much? I mean he's sexy as sin, but come on dude. Just because I was staring doesn't mean I want you.
"Can I help you?" I ask with confusion and his expression looks bewildered. He cocks his head to the side and studies me intently. I raise my eyebrows and look at him expectantly because what on earth is going on?
"I saw you staring at me." He says darkly and in that moment I realize he has a French accent. Interesting.
"So?" I ask with a laugh.
"So ask me for my autograph or a picture so we can be done with this." He says with such arrogance that I want to slap him silly. Who does this guy think he is?
"Look Henri, can I call you Henri?" I ask but continue on before he can respond. He looks perplexed and I don't blame him. I'm a fast talking Texan, he's in way over his head.
"I don't know who you are or where you get the audacity to act so arrogant, but I do not want your autograph or a photo. Now please leave me alone so I can enjoy my drink." I tell him with annoyance and then turn back to my drink.
He scoffs beside me and I can see in my peripheral that he's shocked by my response. It's quite funny actually, he's acting like he doesn't know what to do, like this is the first time something like this has happened to him. Good, hopefully this will be a lesson for him to not act like such a prick again to random people he sees in bars.
"You really have no idea who I am?" He asks incredulously and I roll my eyes before turning back to face him.
"No. I mean you look super familiar, that's why I was staring at you so intently. I was trying to figure out how I knew you." I tell him honestly even though he doesn't necessarily deserve to know the truth behind why I was staring. He laughs heartily beside me and I stare at him like he's lost his mind because I seriously think he did. He has tears coming out of his eyes he's laughing so hard. It's at that moment the bartender comes and stands in front of us.
"I'm a huge fan Charles. Will you sign this so I can hang it on my wall? Prove that you were actually here?" He asks as he slides a coaster and a pen across the bar. Charles smiles at the man and picks up the pen. I notice he has a handful of bracelets on his wrist and a few rings on his hands. I catch myself admiring his hands as he signs the coaster and then I snap out of it after I realize what I'm doing. Now that I know his first name, I feel like I should be able to maybe piece together why I recognize him. His name is Charles and he's clearly an athlete or a celebrity of some sort? Charles....Charles...Charles...he's French...Charles. Holy shit.
"You're Charles Leclerc!" I practically shout at him once I figure it out. He's mid conversation with the bartender who's staring at me like I'm crazy. Charles is smiling at me though like he finds me to be the most fascinating thing he's seen. I quickly grab my phone out of my dress, but then I realize what I'm doing. I can't ask for a photo with him now after what I just told him before I knew who he was. Ezra is going to be so mad at me when I tell him about this, he's never going to believe it.
"Change your mind about the photo?" Charles asks me as he notices the phone in my hand.
"No actually. I was just going to call a cab to take me home. It's getting late." I say as I pull up the number I called earlier for the cab that brought me here tonight. Before I can press the call button, Charles grabs ahold of my phone. My mouth drops open in shock. How dare he just take my phone right from my hands. Before I can stop him, he pulls up the camera app on my phone and starts snapping a few photos of himself. I try to grab my phone from him, but like my 16 year old son, he pulls it away so it's out of my reach. I huff in annoyance and I hear him chuckle. He's enjoying this little game.
"I'll let you have it back if you take one photo with me." He says, whispering in my ear which causes my body to break out in goosebumps. I push away the feeling and turn to face him, debating on whether or not I should take the photo.
"Fine. The faster I get my phone back the faster I can get out of here." I tell him glumly and he furrows his brows for some unknown reason. A moment later I lean toward him so we are shoulder to shoulder. He holds up the camera so we are both in the frame and we smile as he takes a few different ones. Finally he goes to hand me my phone but when I go to take it he holds onto it firmly. I narrow my eyes at him.
"Let me drive you home." He says with hope in his eyes. I guess it would be stupid to turn down a ride with one of the best Formula 1 drivers in the world. Especially when he's driving a Ferrari around. I simply nod my head and he releases my phone before standing up.
“Give me a minute to say goodbye to Carlos and then we can go." He tells me as I stand up as well. My mouth drops open when I hear what he says.
"Carlos Sainz is here?!" I ask excitedly as I start looking around the bar to try to find him. I hear Charles mutter under his breath, something along the lines of 'of course she knows who Carlos is, but not me". I hide my laugh behind my hand, it's so funny because he sounded so put off by that. Charles starts walking back to where I saw him earlier when I got caught staring and sure as shit I see Carlos looking at the two of us with intrigue.
"I'll meet you outside." I tell Charles before I follow him over to Carlos. Charles furrows his brow but nods. He clearly doesn't understand why I don't want to follow him. But I don't want to invade Carlos' privacy by approaching him. I shouldn't even be accepting this ride from Charles either.
As I step outside I realize how dumb of an idea it is to have Charles drive me home. There's no way I can allow it. A man like him should not be seen with a woman like me. Before he comes out, I run around to the other side of the bar and start walking further into town. I duck into a deserted alleyway and call the cab company. Five minutes later I see the cab and hop in giving them my address and ignore the bar as we pass, not wanting to see if the Ferrari is still parked in the parking lot or not.