If only they knew

Chapter 3 - The next steps

After the bad start to her time in Monaco and all the shit with Charles, Anett was not used to the accent, so it took her a while to realize his name was not sharl. The hotel was everything she could have dreamed of. Luxurious, spacious, and just what Anett needed. As she began to unpack and freshen up, she caught sight of the Brothers Karamazov. Anett had been trying to read the Dostoyevsky novel for months now. She had made a pact with herself to take this time to finish it. She was alone anyway. Anett had always been drawn to books, even at a young age. After pushing her things aside and getting far to envelop her book, she realized the time. It was almost 10 pm.

She had not eaten in hours, and she was starving. The problem is Monte Carlo on a Wednesday wasn't the most action-packed place. So as she dressed casually in a dark hoodie and ventured out.

It took Anett about 30 minutes of walking to realize that she would be having McDonald's. She laughed. She loved McDonald's so much, but it was so bad, and her coach would have killed her. Scratch that; her entire team would have killed her.

« Bonjour, comment puis-je t'aider? » (hello what can I get for you?)

Anett just looked at the man funny. "Cheeseburger meal" Anett looked at him in hope, and he deadpanned back at her and shrugged. She suddenly heard a French accent speak in the background and looked over. Anett furrowed her eyebrows when he winked at her. She couldn't fucking believe it. First, he hits her car now he comes in and orders her food. She wanted to punch this man. But boy, did he look good. He was wearing a tight black shirt and a black bandana. Her eyes lingered way longer than they should have, and he definitely noticed. She couldn't help but be attracted. He was beautiful in every way, but she knew he was a ladies' man, and she knew he was trouble.

"Hello again, Anett" that cocky smile was back, and Anett flushed; she wasn't going to let him get to her. "Hello, the dude who hit my car and didn't apologize," she mentally high-fived herself, hoping it would make him feel awkward. He laughed. Damn, boys, smile got even better. "Why don't you let me pay for your food? It's the least I can do?" Before she could protest, he had already paid for them both. Something very odd happened next. Anett spoke tiny French; she made a mental note to learn some before Roland Garros next year. The worker said, "Merci Charles." Anett had never known anyone to be that regular at a McDonald's that they would be on a named basis. Charles rushed this and didn't meet her gaze. She didn't notice and waited for her food in silence with the dreamboat. No, Anett, she said to herself, no way. Stop.

She was broken out of her thoughts by Charles. "So, would you like to eat together?" He said with a smile. Anett looked him dead in the face, and Charles smiled as he knew what would come next. Charles was not dumb; he knew she was attracted to him. "Not. I don't even know you" Anett took her food and walked to the dining area. Charles stayed frozen; he was confident he misheard her. He was not used to being rejected like this. First, he thought it was cute, but now it upset him. His mother taught him to be a gentleman, so he wouldn't get upset or hassle her. He sat down at another table in the lonely restaurant and began eating. After sitting down, Anett cursed to herself; her phone was dead. Was she going to sit there in silence when this good-looking man was trying everything to flirt with her? She was resounded to the facts and picked up her food, and sat in front of him.

"So Shaaarlll," purposely exaggerating his name. He looked up and smiled. She was unlike others, and he couldn't pinpoint it. She was different, and he was obsessed. After about 10 minutes of talking, he asked her the question she was avoiding "what do you do for a living, Anett?" She dodged the question and said she worked in the fitness industry, knowing he would look at her differently if she were honest. As well, she wasn't lying. Just not telling the whole truth. He could see she didn't want to answer, so he didn't push. She politely reciprocated, "what do you do, Charles?" "I work in the automotive industry," he said with hesitation. He didn't know why he lied, but he just wanted to be seen for a Charles, not Charles Leclerc. "Most be a good job if you live in Monaco and drive a Ferrari," he laughed, and she was intrigued. She wanted to know more; she wanted to up-wrap this gorgeous mystery.

If only they both knew what was to come...

Authors note!
Hey guys, I hope you're enjoying it! Please let me know if you have suggestions? This is my first fic. I'm nervous and worried I'm ruining things. If there is anyone there... Hi! X