Snap Happy (A Daniel Ricciardo story)

12. A Load of (Red) Bull

EMILY

Friday proved to be a challenge for both of us, as Dan struggled with the car, and I struggled with the camera. Two or three times I picked up my phone with the intention of calling Darren for some help or advice, but on each occasion either pride or fear prevented me from dialling the number. I just could'nt show weakness on day one, not if I wanted to make it to day two anyway...

When in trouble, call someone you can rely on.

Just like I had in my uni days, I rang Dad.

"Hello sweetheart, how's it going?"

"It isn't" I said flatly. "I'm still getting used to the camera and my timing is completely off"

"It's called practice for a reason Em" he reminded me calmly. "Use it as practice for yourself too - just try EVERYTHING today, however stupid. Then review it all tonight, and go out and nail it tomorrow and Sunday when it really counts."

"Thanks Dad"

Sometimes the man talked sense, this was one of those moments, and I set out to explore every button, setting, and location while I had the chance, and while it didn't matter. By the end of the day I was finally beginning to get to grips with my new job, but there was a bigger test ahead. Dinner.

'Meet me at the paddock entrance, pretend you're just the photographer x'

'I AM just the photographer...x'

'You'll see what I mean when you get here x'

As I approached I did indeed realise what he meant. There were dozens of fans crowded against the fence, pressing their noses to the wire in the hope of catching a glimpse of one of their idols. As Dan came into view a cheer went up and I pushed my way through to the front, flashing my pass when people noticed me, and using my elbows when they didn't. I was quickly through the gate and hovered a few paces away as he signed endless autographs. Keeping my camera to my eye I made the most of the opportunity (and the view), following him at a safe distance as he turned back the way he had come from, without making eye contact with me. 

DAN

"Why so tense?" I enquired when we were eventually out of sight of the crowds, noting her raised shoulders, and her lips which were pressed tightly together "this was supposed to be a treat not an ordeal". I was crestfallen and she hastened to reassure me.

"I'm excited, I'm just nervous about walking in to a room full of people who know each other inside out, and who belong in this environment - I feel like an imposter"

"You belong here too, and the sooner you realise that the better" Impulsively I took hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze, stroking the long slender fingers that lay cool in my warmer ones. "Your shoulders still look a little tight - are you sure you don't want me to get Drew to take a look at that for you - he does pretty good massages" (In case you've forgotten Drew is the briefly-mentioned personal trainer)

"Over my dead body!" She crossed her arms protectively across the afore-mentioned body. "Lying  half naked on a table while some stranger runs his hands over me is NOT my idea of relaxation"

"What if it wasn't a stranger" I asked suggestively, brushing her hair away from the back of her neck and tracing firm but gentle circles on the exposed skin. I felt her flinch at my touch, then saw the walls come down as I slipped my fingers under the neck of her shirt, stroking her shoulders with the lightest possible contact. I paused, taken aback by the intimacy of the moment despite being the one who instigated it.