La Rosa Gialla

Chapter 22

March 2024

I was standing by the big screen watching the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. It was exciting, but not stressful enough to make me pass out. Max Verstappen had a fairly comfortable lead and with only 7 laps to go, if nothing special happens, he will win the race and close the gap in points he had on Charles from the first race. It was Charles who was driving in second place, but he was constantly being challenged by George Russel. Charles complained on the radio that the tires were dead, but only a few seconds later Russel made the same report. Carlos Sainz unfortunately had to withdraw from the race after the first few laps due to a collision with Esteban Ocon.

Charles finished second and it was clear that he was not satisfied. "Being second means being the first to lose," one of the mechanics told me when I later helped him move his stuck neck. "I know, but it's only the second race. It doesn't mean anything yet," I shook my head. Jesse looked at me in disbelief. "Try saying that in front of Charles," he laughed.

Charlie did not come to my room that evening. Instead, I packed up and went to bed early so I could fly back to Italy with some other team members in the morning. The others flew straight from Jeddah to Melbourne, but I decided to use more than a week off to visit my dad. He was dying to know how the F1 weekends work and due to time constraints, I haven't had a chance to tell him all the details yet.

"It's a terrible mess. It will take me a long time to get used to it," I explained to my dad over a cup of coffee. "It's a business run by a bunch of Italians, what would you expect," my father degraded his own nation, but he was actually right. It worked a little better in Ferrari than in most areas of public administration in Italy, but not by much. "Are they at least nice to you?" he asked. "They are," I smiled. Later, I called Kala and Sarah so that they could ask me in the first question, whether I had already made a move on Charles. "No. There wasn't even time to talk," I reassured them, much to their disappointment. Then they asked me dozens more questions about the Grand Prix and I was happy to answer it all.

On Wednesday I went to Maranello to discuss with the others the plans for the following weeks. Unfortunately, the therapist that I was supposed to replace temporarily had to announce that her injury has dragged on and she will not be able to return for at least another 2 months. On the one hand, I felt sorry for her, but selfishly I was a little glad that I now at least have some job security. Thomas gave me a tour of the entire factory and facilities. I had been here a long time ago for a tour as an ordinary tourist, but this time I was just as impressed. The atmosphere was beginning to absorb me and I couldn't wait for the next race weekend.

"Where are you?" Charles asked me on the phone on Thursday afternoon. "Where would I be? At home," I informed him slightly confused.

"Will you have time in an hour after I'm done on the simulator?"

"You didn't fly to Australia?"

"No. What would I do there? So will you have time or not?"

He sounded stressed and busy, but I still agreed to have him come to our place after his training.

Exactly an hour and a half later, someone rang the doorbell. I ran to the door and opened it to let Charles in with a single yellow rose in his hand. He smiled at me and handed me the flower. "Thank you," I smiled too. "Is this some new tradition now? Giving me flowers?" I asked with a slightly provocative tone. "That's for how you handled your first working weekend. Everyone is so excited about you," he smirked and walked past me into the living room. "Ciao Davide!" he called to my dad at the restaurant. He just stuck his head in the door, waved at Charles with a smile and went back to his work. I pulled a narrow glass vase from the shelf, filled it with water and put the flower in it. "Actually, I needed to ask you something," Charles said suddenly, stuffing a cookie that was lying on a plate on the kitchen counter into his mouth. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to finish chewing so he could continue. "Andrea, my trainer, is off for a few days now because of some virus or something. Could you do my training with me tomorrow?" he asked, smiling charmingly with his stupid dimples. He was well aware that I couldn't resist that smile, and he was right. "I'm not sure if I'll even survive your training, let alone be of any help to you," I blurted out, and Charles laughed out loud, which made me even more insecure. "It will be more than enough if you go for a run with me and then watch over me so I don't injure myself. You don't have to lift heavy weights with me," he smirked provocatively. I could probably stand watching him sweat while working out. "Okay," I finally agreed, suspecting that this would be more of a win for me than for him.