Recipe for Love

Chapter 21

Charles

I didn't get my hopes up too high, and I certainly didn't have too many expectations, but the feeling of the car during the first practice session in Melbourne was perhaps even worse than during the Bahrain tests. And I would think that is not even possible anymore. When I met Lewis in a meeting room with the engineers to evaluate the data, his face reflected a similar dismay to mine. "Okay, we can all see that the performance is not the best at the moment, but we're not going to throw away the whole weekend just yet. It was just the first practice. We'll make the necessary adjustments..." Fred went on and on, but I didn't hear him at all. The only thing running through my head was that in recent years everything has been going downhill. Actually, my whole life is kind of downhill. When fate, accidents, or illnesses don't spoil it for me, I spoil it for myself or at least the performance of the damn car. For God's sake, how hard is it to build a fast and reliable car on a budget like the Scuderia's?

The second practice didn't bring significant improvement either, but at least I stopped feeling like I was driving a lawnmower. I sat in my dressing room and stared at the notes in my notebook, but instead of looking for any meaning in them, I just aimlessly scribbled across the densely written pages. "Can I come in?" Came through the crack in the door, which was carefully opened after a soft knock. I closed the book and turned to Lewis who didn't wait for my invitation and walked in to sit next to me. "I bet this isn't how you envisioned your first race weekend at Ferrari," I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. "Not really," Lewis sighed.'
"We did so well last year. Red Bull was just a touch better. And now it feels like we're starting from scratch with a car that shouldn't even be driven in a private parking lot, let alone on a race track."
Lewis chuckled, but when he noticed my facial expression, he turned serious again.
"It's obvious you weren't in last year's Mercedes," he blurted out and then remained silent for a moment. "How is Anna doing?" he suddenly asked, and I almost choked on my saliva.¨
"How should I know? She's your relative, not mine," I stammered.
"I have a feeling that lately she's been in contact with you more than with me," he shrugged, sparks of malice dancing in his eyes. Was he trying to get out of me if there was something between us?

Anna and I met three more times before I had to leave for Australia. Not that I'm counting. We kissed eight times, I didn't count that either. And I definitely didn't even count the number of times she smiled at me and stroked my arm. But I knew for sure that not once did our conversation touch on the topic of what was next and if she felt the same way about me as I did about her. I was well aware of how little it would take for me to slip back into trouble. And a broken heart would for sure be a lot more than just that little bit.

"I think she's fine. She was excited to finally be allowed to prepare the main course at the restaurant," I blurted out the first thing I could think of, hoping that would be enough for him as an answer. I knew that Lewis was only Anna's uncle, but I also knew that they were very close, and I could sense from him how much he cared for her. And I had no doubt that he would be willing to kill me for her.
"Listen, mate," Lewis began just as the door opened again and Joris burst into the room. Jo always knew how to time his arrival perfectly, and at this moment I was even more grateful than ever. "The car is here," he announced to me, glancing from me to Lewis and back again. "I'm coming," I assured him and jumped up so I could quickly pack the few things that couldn't be left here until the next day. "I'll see you tomorrow. If you talk to Anna, tell her to call me," Lewis said before leaving, punching me in the shoulder with unnecessary force.

"What was it about?" Jo asked on the way to the hotel.
"We talked about the car. And he also asked how Anna was doing."
"Really? How is she actually doing?" he asked innocently, and I gave him an angry look.
"Not you too."
"You've never been so dramatic over a girl," he said.
"I'm not dramatic because of her. I'm just keeping a safe distance," I protested.
"That's the problem."