Approximately Three Years Ago…
“Come on, Val, we have to get going,” Adrian yells, and I put on the finishing touches of my makeup. I walk out of the bathroom of our hotel room, and Adrian smiles at me. “You look beautiful,” he says, and I tug at my plain, blue dress before smiling shyly.
“You don’t think I look stupid?” Usually, I don’t dress up unless I have Mrs. Beaumont’s help. However, the dress is so simple, I know I can’t go wrong with it.
“Not at all.” For a brief second, I see tears glistening in his eyes, and a confused expression settles on my face. “Sorry,” he quickly mutters and sits down on the bed. I walk over to him. “You’re growing up, and I’m not quite ready to see that happening, as absurd as it may sound,” he tells me, and I wrap my arms around him.
“I understand. You grew up faster than I did, and all I wanted was for you and me to stay the same age we were five years ago.” I feel Adrian’s arm wrap around my shoulder and swallow down the tears. Five years seems like a lifetime ago. Grandfather was still teaching me, training me; he was still alive. Now, it is only Adrian and me. Well, Adrian, me, and that witch Carolina.
“I’m sorry I always leave. I wish I could take you with me, but you need to finish high school. You need a good education, but I am sorry. You’re my everything, Val, my whole life. I need you to remember that,” he says in a strong voice, and tears drop from my eyes.
“And you’re mine.” I wipe them away with my index finger and smile. Adrian and I are unlucky in many ways, but we are also fortunate to have each other.
He pats me on the shoulder and says, “Okay, let’s go.” I nod and get my purse before following him.
It takes us about half an hour to get to the room Peter Weizer, former Formula One driver and current head of McLaren, rented for the party. It is dark outside, and I put on my jacket when I see it is only ten degrees Celsius. Adrian and I flew out to England for this party, and I’ve been enjoying my time away from our aunt. However, I would like it even more if the weather wasn’t so disappointing.
We get out of the car, Adrian holds out his arm for me, and I hook mine through his. I’m thrilled to meet all the other drivers, but I’m also nervous because, after all, they are celebrities. At least my oldest friend James is going to be there to keep me entertained.
The room is packed with people, and I feel intimidated. Luckily, James walks toward us and opens his arms for me. I hug him, and he picks me up, just like he always does. “I’ve missed you, darling,” he says and puts me back down on my feet. He kisses the top of my head before turning to greet Adrian.
“Hey,” Adrian greets him, and they do the typical handshake-hug-pat-on-the-back, which a lot of guys do. They fall into a conversation, and my eyes drift around the room.
There are a lot of middle-aged white men and their wives at the party. Then my eyes wander to the group of drivers standing near an enormous table in the middle of the room. I recognize Killian Grand, Leonard Tick, Cameron Kion, Ian McCaugh, and a few more faces that seem familiar. My eyes stop, and my heart drops when I spot the most handsome man I have ever seen. His brown hair looks messy yet somehow is still in place. He is slim and of average height. The dimples that appear when he smiles make my heart stop.
“What’s caught your attention, lovely?” James asks me, and I look away from the gorgeous stranger.
“Who is he?” I’ve known James long enough to feel comfortable asking him almost any question. He takes a sip of his beer and turns his head in the direction of my not-very-subtle finger.
“That is Gabriel Biancheri. He is a new driver, starting in a Williams.” I nod and look at James again.
“You’re driving for McLaren this season, right?” I ask, making sure I remember correctly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, his English accent thicker than honey. I look at Gabriel and feel James’ eyes on me. “He’s nineteen, luv.” I roll my eyes and focus on my friend. I already figured he would be older.
“How is it going between you and Katie?” James starts swooning over his girlfriend, and I try my best to only pay attention to him. But every now and then, I look past him and toward Gabriel. He is in a conversation with Peter and his wife, Brigitte Weizer. For the first time, Gabriel’s eyes find mine, and a confused yet curious smile spreads over his face, making my heart tingle. Again, I shift my attention to James, who, luckily, hasn’t noticed.
“Ah, James, it is very gut to see you,” Peter Weizer interrupts us with his almost incomprehensible German accent. His wife is smiling and nodding next to him. “And who are you?” He holds out his relatively small hand, and I shake it politely.
“My name is Valentina. I’m Adrian Romana’s sister. He brought me tonight. It’s nice to meet you. I’m a huge fan of what you do,” I ramble nervously and have to catch my breath. The man’s tired blue eyes widen, and an amused expression spreads over his face.
“Ohh, slo down, yung laidy. You are tu fast. My English is not zat gut,” he responds and squeezes my hand. “Adrian, ja ja, I know him. Gut Mann. Very gut! Ah und zis is my waife Brigitte.” He motions to the woman standing next to him. “Brigitte das ist Valentina. Sie ist Adrians Schwester.” I have a tough time understanding him as is, but I’m convinced the last sentence was not English. I smile at the wife, and she returns it. The blouse she’s wearing is a blue color, which complements her brown-colored hair. The neckline is higher than I would usually wear my own, but it fits her perfectly.
“I like your blouse,” I tell her, and she looks away from me and toward her husband.
“Was hat sie gesagt?” Again, I’m unable to understand anything, and I look at James for help. I’m worried I said something to offend her, but he smiles at me and squeezes my hand to assure me everything is fine. Peter says something back, and the woman turns to face me. “Ah danke, I mean, zhank you, zhank you.” A blush settles on the older woman’s cheeks, and I manage to bring the smile back to my face.
James introduces me to the owner of Formula One, Claudio de Michael. We talk a little about the new regulations before I build up the courage to share what happened to me personally last year. I was racing in Formula Three after dominating the karting circuit when, after a year, my team dropped me. No one else wants to sponsor me, despite my success. F3 is similar to Formula One, except the cars are smaller, and there are a few format differences for the race weekend. It is a steppingstone to come closer to racing in F1, but all of a sudden, the ground was pulled from under my feet.
“Well, Ms. Romana, I’m sure they had good reason,” Mr. de Michael replies, and I shake my head. I’ve been given the same ridiculous excuse from more people than I can count.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. Val, this is Cameron Kion, a good friend of mine,” Adrian introduces us, and I smile at the man with the kindest face. He has smooth features, blue eyes, and just, in general, a face that makes you want to trust him. Cameron makes small talk about my school, my favorite music, and I ask him about racing and his favorite movies. The Australian seems genuinely interested, and I’m fascinated with his accent. James and Adrian disappear to talk to some of the other drivers.
“Cameron, you forgot to show me a picture of your helmet design.” His voice is just as attractive as the rest of him. He has the Monegasque accent I love. It is beautiful and smooth in my ears, and at the same time, it reminds me of home. “I really hope it’s a kangaroo, and you’re in its pouch,” he jokes, and I chuckle. Gabriel’s eyes focus on mine, but I look away, embarrassed.
“Oh, Valentina, have you met Gabriel?” Cameron asks, and I shake my head.
“Hi,” Gabriel says and holds out his hand for me. Instead of shaking it, I simply hold his awkwardly. He cocks an eyebrow and lifts our hands to his mouth before placing an unsure kiss on the back of mine. He seems amused then. “It is lovely to make your acquaintance, Lady Valentina,” he teases, and heat rushes into my cheeks. I let out a nervous laugh, which sounds more like a hyena when it sees food. I retract my hand before mentally slapping myself. Cameron excuses himself after almost bursting from holding back the laughter and leaves Gabriel and me alone. “So, who did you come with?” he asks me, obviously trying to fill the awkward silence with casual conversation.
“Um, my brother brought me along. Adrian,” I quickly add and point at the tall guy with curly, blonde hair. I feel weird talking to him, but I also don’t want to stop.
“Ah, yes, the resemblance is uncanny,” he says, a small laugh escaping him. His accent does something to me I don’t understand, but it feels incredible. My whole body almost vibrates with each word he speaks. “Where are you from?” he asks, and it tells me he hasn’t met Adrian yet. He also wouldn’t be asking me if I had the same accent.
“Monaco, just like you, I’m guessing,” I respond, smiling sweetly at him. I am terrible at flirting.
“Oh, no way! Yes, I am,” he says in French, and it takes me a second to process his words. I hardly ever speak French. Adrian and I grew up bilingual since our dad only spoke to us in English, but our grandparents only in French. In school, we also learned both, but when I moved to LA, I had a strong accent, similar to Gabriel’s. Aunt Carolina shamed it out of me by only speaking English at home until there was no hint of it left. “I can’t believe how good your English is.”
“I grew up bilingual,” I explain in the best French I can muster, and he continues to smile. If a smile could make someone fall in love, his would. “I hear you’re driving for Williams.” I don’t know what else to say and hope he will lead the conversation and tell me more about himself.
“Yeah, it’s my first season in F1, and I’m excited. I have worked incredibly hard most of my life to get here, and I honestly can’t believe it’s happening.” As he grins, I finally notice his eyes are a unique combination of green and brown. I smile back at him, and a slight blush settles on his cheek. “Sorry,” he mumbles and looks at his feet. He is shy?
“What for?” I ask, perplexed by his apology.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who is supposed to be nervous! I’m talking to this handsome man, who is older than I am and not only hot but also charming. So, why would he be nervous? “Would you like to sit next to me during dinner?” I can’t hide my shocked expression. Why does he want me to sit with him? I turn around to see who he was addressing. “I would love to hear more about life in LA, Valentina.”
“Yes.” The words leave my mouth before he even finishes his sentence. For the second time, he holds out his hand for me, and I take it. This time, I get to enjoy the touch instead of feeling embarrassed for holding his hand. My entire body is covered with goosebumps, and I shiver.
“You’re cold,” he states, a frown on his face. He could not be more wrong. My body is on fire from his touch, and the only reason I shivered is because, for a brief second, I let my mind drift. “Do you want my blazer?” I shake my head to let him know I do not need his jacket. The last thing I want is to make his blazer wet from my sweat. He smiles at me, and we sit down at the table. We fall into a passionate conversation about Formula One, led mainly by my opinions, and he watches me with a smile the entire time.
“I’m sorry,” I eventually blurt out, but he shakes his head.
“Don’t be. I’m very intrigued by you. I’ve never met anyone as interesting and strong-minded as you. You fascinate me,” he admits. “And on top of that, you’re gorgeous.” I’m sure I misheard him, but when James chimes in, I know I didn’t.
“And very young. She’s sixteen, mate,” James says so blatantly I want to punch him in the face. All my hopes Gabriel could like me are blown away.
“Oh, okay, so I can’t tell her she’s one of a kind?” My head turns in Gabriel’s direction, and he is glaring at James, who is sitting down on the other side of me.
“You can, but you need to keep your hands off her. Understood?” James tells him more than he asks. His voice is deep, and his accent is fading as he growls at Gabriel.
“If I were uncomfortable, I would have said something, James,” I point out while glaring at my oldest friend. Without listening to another word of their ‘conversation’, I get up and walk over to Adrian. He smiles brightly at me, and I try to return it genuinely. “I’m going to get some air. I’ll be back.” I squeeze his arm, and he winks at me.
As soon as I’m outside, the cool air freezes my body, and I stand completely still. I am not necessarily mad at James for telling Gabriel how old I am, I would have done that sooner or later, but I do not like how it happened. And what does he care anyway? I catch myself. To him, I’m like a little sister he has to protect. I’m this fragile thing who cannot defend herself, but that’s why I don’t think of him as a brother. My actual brother knows I can protect myself. He knows he doesn’t have to interfere unless I ask him for help. It’s why James is my oldest friend, not my best friend, and not my brother. Those two titles belong to one single person: Adrian.
After minutes of freezing, someone wraps their jacket around my body. I know it’s James. A moment of hesitation later, I turn around to look at him. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, and I wait for him to talk.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please forgive me,” he says. The defeat is evident on his face. “Come on, Val,” he pleads when I don’t respond to his apology. I can tell he is freezing.
“Okay, but I am keeping your jacket,” I let him know, and he smiles.
“It looks better on you anyway,” he replies.
Adrian sits at the table, far away from where I sat before, and I see an empty seat next to him. Without hesitation, I take it. He grins at me with a full mouth, and I shake my head, smiling.
James’ jacket keeps me warm for most of the night, and I’m sad when I have to say goodbye to Cameron and Gabriel. I know I will see James soon, but I don’t know when I will see Gabriel again.
I stand in front of him, a sad smile on my face. “It was nice to meet you, and I’m sorry about earlier. James is overprotective when it comes to me,” I inform him, and he simply nods.
“I understand. I’m sorry, too, if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I didn’t mean to, and to be honest, you were the one making me a little nervous.” He grins, and I don’t know what to say.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.” You make me feel incredible, you make my body react to your touch within seconds, you take my breath away, and I have no doubt you will be on my mind for a while. But I don’t say any of this. All I say is, “I guess I will see you around.” I hold out my fist without thinking.
“I’ll see you soon, Lady Valentina.” He fist-bumps me with an amused grin. Embarrassment washes over me, and I leave before I do anything awkward again. Fuck me, I’m an idiot.
