Recipe for Love

Chapter 10

Anna

"Finally," I breathed, patting myself on the shoulder and sitting on the couch next to Lewis, who had just gotten out of the shower after training. "Did you get a job?" he asked.
"Well...at least I got a chance. I have a trial shift at the Montana restaurant on Monday."
"That is great. I've heard only good things about it. A lot of people from the team say they like to go there."
"And there's a lot of handsome guys there too," I stated as I remembered my interpreter.
"Really? I thought you were here for the work," Lewis smirked, but I knew he was just kidding. Like me, he was well aware that we weren't close enough for him to argue with me about dating.
"That doesn't mean I can't look," I grinned.

In the evening, I called Daisy, who was much more interested in that interpreter than in my job opportunity. "If he knows the owner, he must go there often," Daisy mused aloud.
"So what?"
"What do you mean, so what? That means there's a pretty good chance you'll see him again."
"I repeat, so what? Just because he's really pretty doesn't mean he won't be a jerk."
"It's true that you definitely attract these types. But who knows," she grinned into the camera.

My love life so far has been one big parade of jerks and dickheads, Daisy was right about that. I've never come around a good boy, and I was starting to think that maybe these jerks are just what I deserve. During the last years, I experienced cheating, humiliation, and psychological terror, which more than once almost led to the physical as well. I was really coming to terms with the fact that I was destined to either live with a dick or die alone.

"I know it's a bit last minute, but today is the presentation of the new single-seater. Do you want to come with me?" Lewis asked as I crept zombie-like into the kitchen for breakfast.
"What is a single-seater?" I asked for an explanation, to which Lewis responded with a laugh.
"New car."
"When are you leaving?"
"In an hour," he said as he checked his ultra-overpriced watch.
"Yeah, I could do that," I shrugged and poured soy milk over my cereal. "Is there a special dress code?"
"I don't think so. I'll be wearing an overall," he smirked.

I chose a simple black outfit and very light makeup and went back downstairs to find Lewis who was already standing at the door wearing something hard to describe. It will probably take me a long time to get used to his style. His bright yellow sweater contrasted sharply with my black shirt, and if more of us were cloned side by side, we'd look like a swarm of bees. We got into a brand-new black Ferrari and I automatically buckled up. "We don't have to tell anyone I'm your daughter, do we?" I assured myself and Lewis shook his head, although it was clear that he was not entirely comfortable with this topic. "You can claim to be my niece. As you wish," he said. I actually quite liked the idea with the niece.

Lewis dragged me into the bowels of the Scuderia headquarters, past journalists, fans, and dozens of red-shirted oompa loompas running around. He set me aside among the few visitors who were invited to this event, disappeared, and I waited impatiently for the beginning.

The lights went out and the huge panels behind the stage opened to reveal a shiny Formula 1 car, still covered by a red piece of rag. "So much fuss about a car," I grumbled and several people looked back at me angrily. Then two faces appeared on the panels and to my surprise I recognized both of them. One of them was my father in a very unflattering red overall that looked like something between a McDonald's worker and a paramedic. And the other was my interpreter from the restaurant, wearing the same stupid overalls and with a smug smile on his face. "Charles Leclerc," I whispered the name that appeared under his portrait.