How I Met Charles Leclerc

Chapter 7 - 'I Can't Stop Thinking About You'

*Two days later*

This morning I've studied from home working on an article for a small fashion firm I've been hired at - it's taken up most of the past few days to complete but they pay well and I now have a new interest in life - Charles.
He hasn't stopped messaging me. Yesterday he sent me a text immediately after his race - 'I couldn't stop thinking about you that whole time'.

Admittedly, I watched his race on TV, which finished at 4pm and I had a message come through on my phone by 4:15pm. I am genuinely on his mind and this makes me feel less crazy knowing he feels the same.

'Marley?' My dad knocks on the door, I haven't seen him since I left days ago. I invite him in.

'Hi, Dad', I smile, trying to act like the same old me from last Friday, trying to forget the fact I'm falling in love with a Formula One driver.

'Hi, Darling. Work is about to get really busy so I'm likely going to be seeing you a lot less for the next two months or so', he confesses.

'That's okay', I feel some relief with a little sadness. Although, he didn't even ask about my weekend- saves me a lie to tell.

He perches on the edge of my bed, groaning at his apparent backache. 'Thank you. Got a new contract signed so I'm being pulled in all directions right now. How's Toto and Mila?'

'Cool. Well done', I congratulate him, 'Toto and Mila are fine. We had a quiet weekend'. Still not asked about his own daughter.

'Did you?' Dad asks, seeming more interested in distracted in what's out of my window.

'Yes', I say sarcastically, annoyed by his disinterest, 'I have a really important article to finish, Dad. But I can cook us one of our favorite pasta dishes later if you like?'

He looks at me with the first glimmer of attention he's shown since he sat down, 'I'm sorry, Darling. I'm out later - golfing. Another night, perhaps?'

'Okay', I sigh, 'But it's only Tuesday, Dad. Are you back late? Are you gonna be drinking?'

'Darling, you'll be okay. I may be back late, yes', Avoiding the drinking queston, of course.

'Okay', I repeat, picking up my pen, hinting for him to leave me alone.

'I'll shout up when I'm leaving'.

'Okay'.

I look at my empty phone screen, it's 5pm already and I haven't heard from Charles yet. Maybe I should call him?

On this thought, my phone chimes and Charles' name pops up on my phone, finally a text message.

It reads,

'Good Evening, Princess. I have an idea... would you like to FaceTime me for a while later on? I really can't stop thinking about you and I don't know how to deal with it. Let me know asap, C x'

Entirely and instantly, my mood changes, heart feeling full rather than drained from the one-sided conversation with my Dad. I sit back for five minutes before responding, I don't want to come across too eager.

I reply,

'Hi, Charles. That sounds great. I have another hour or two to finish an article but I'll be free after that? x'

Charles texts back within two minutes,

'Perfect. I guess I'll go get spruced up for you, then. Good luck with the article! Please let me read it!'

I turn my phone on do not disturb and set an alarm for an hours' time, I need to look more put together than I do right now.

***