Book 1: Leap of Faith -Charles Leclerc

Chapter 2

"Hi beautiful!" JJ exclaimed to Caroline, with Jack close by in tow, typing away on his phone. "I actually have something I need you to do if you have some time after work...You'd be doing us a huge favor..." JJ trailed off at the end of the sentence, not knowing that her only post-work plans were on her couch with an episode of Love Island. His eyes pleaded with hers as his hands clasped together in an obvious form of desperation.

"Of course, anything. What do you need, boss?" Caroline responded, with a confident hand on the hip.

"You're a lifesaver. There's a meeting down at the race building for some people in motorsport..." JJ said as he whipped out his phone, staring intensely at an email. "Just a little meet and greet with some of the new Formula employees," he gestured with his hands as he often did when he was losing either his English or his train of thought.

"Yes. So... Jack and I have a dinner reservation that we made 3 months ago and it is our 5 year wedding anniversary, so would you please go in our place and introduce the company, talk a little about what we do and offer to them? Get to know some of the drivers that are there?" His voice went up at the end, showing his desperation.

"Yeah, yeah! That's absolutely no problem for me," Caroline responded, with a nervous smile on her face. She was great with people, but it was a bit daunting to imagine herself in a room full of crazy important drivers, mechanics, and engineers. She asked a few follow-up questions and accepted the thankful hug from JJ.

**

After changing into her more professional company attire and touching up her hair and makeup, she walked into the gorgeous building in the center of Monaco, just off Boulevard Du Larvotto. She stepped into the building and took in the views of what looked like a couple hundred people all chatting and mingling. Caroline swallowed the nerves that started to bubble up in her and walked up to check in on behalf of her bosses. She was quickly guided into a lineup of various people, all dressed to the same level of professionalism that she was. She took in the room, the large ballroom that was oozing old-money. This place was quintessential Monaco, with large floor-to-ceiling windows and a very minimalist and modern design, except for the racing memorabilia, aesthetically scattered along the walls. Once again lost in awe at her surroundings, she didn't even have time to think about what she wanted to say before the microphone was starting to be passed around.

"Hi everyone! I am Dr. Caroline and I am one of the resident physiotherapists with Marquee Physiotherapy Associates. We are so excited to be there for you for any PT or trainer services you may need during the season. We are local here to Monaco so you can stop by our office or we can travel anywhere with you if necessary. If you'd like to learn more about our services, please feel free to come chat with me!" Caroline took a deep breath after her short speech. She felt everyone's eyes move onto the next person in the line.

"Yeah I definitely blacked out, I have no idea what I said," she thought to herself afterwards, "I hope it made sense."

She half listened to the rest of the introductions as she worked to calm the adrenaline that was now coursing through her veins. Eventually, the introductions were over and the champagne was popped. Caroline grabbed herself a flute, hoping that she could figure out who to talk to. To her surprise, several of the young drivers approached her quickly, asking her questions about the company and herself. The champagne she had quickly downed had her feeling a bit more friendly and being surrounded by these attractive men was causing a permanent redness in her cheeks, regardless of the intent of these interactions. Caroline was a strong woman, but she was not immune to the effect of a handsome man in a suit. She was deep into a conversation about the utilization of ice baths in post-exercise recovery when she was cut off by one of the drivers in the circle as they all collectively turned and whispered.

"Putain de merde, is that Charles Leclerc?" "Oh my god it is..." "wait why is he here?" "I actually knew him in primary school."

The drivers' voices all stacked on top of each other as they collectively fan-girled over the not-so-infamous Ferrari driver. Caroline was too busy internally laughing at the sight of grown men acting like teenagers to fully comprehend just exactly who was approaching. Charles Leclerc had always been her favorite driver, and truthfully not only for his driving skills. The nerves hit her all at once, just like the champagne had done. She felt a sudden nausea come over her, unsure of her place in that room at the moment.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod it's Charles Leclerc. Should I ask for a photo? An autograph? This is insane. I'm within 6 feet of him! Wait, no. This is professional. No time to be a fangirl," she thought.

Caroline switched her brain back into professional mode as she straightened out the jacket she was wearing. She was about to let her feet take her in another direction to avoid embarrassing herself until she made eye contact with him through the group of drivers. His eyes seemed to pierce directly into hers and he held his eye contact even with the hordes of other people who were fast approaching to greet the driver. Caroline felt her heart rate quicken as she broke eye contact and looked down at the now empty champagne flute that she was twirling between her fingers. She had seen a zillion photos of him, as she had been following him on Instagram for a year, but for some reason he felt familiar to her.

"Care, calm down. He has no idea who you are. Play it cool." Caroline whispered to herself as she looked around, desperate for someone else to talk to so she could avoid the feeling of her rapid heart rate. She started scanning the room, but her eyes were pulled to a figure approaching her as he pushed through the crowd.

"Hi there, I apologize, but have we met before? You look so familiar." His accent seeped through every single word and Caroline was jealous of how French his accent was. She spent a whole year in college trying to perfect her French accent and she still sounded so American.

"Uhhh... no! I believe we have not met before. Hi, I'm Dr. Caroline with Marquee Physiotherapy Associates. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Charles, it's lovely to meet you" he responded, taking her hand that she had extended out for a professional handshake.

Caroline forced herself to maintain eye contact, even though she knew the scarlet coloring of her cheeks were a dead giveaway at how flustered she was at this moment. She could barely handle the intensity of his green eyes that felt like they were peering into her soul, let alone the feeling of his hand shaking hers. He was pretty in photos, but damn near striking in person. His dark, tousled hair, his sharp jawline that was littered with slight stubble, his deep dimples and genuine smile, Caroline felt like she was staring at a painting.

"You as well! Well, if you ever need any physiotherapy services or anything, I'm here!" Caroline cringed, silently cursing herself in her head for such a dumb retort. If the coloring of her face could deepen any more, it would've at this moment.

"I may have to take you up on that," he replied, with a smile forming on his face. He opened his mouth to say something more but was interrupted by some very important looking man needing his presence elsewhere. It was a few moments later when Caroline felt her heart rate return to normal and was able to fully recall what had just happened.

"Do you know who that is?!" One of the young drivers implored Caroline after that interaction, with an incredulous look on his face.

"Mmmm, yep. Yes I do." Caroline responded, still in shock that she just got to meet her favorite F1 driver, trying to commit the moment to memory. She was unsure if she would ever have anything like that happen again, and maybe this was her peak. Part of her cursed the fact that there was no proof, wishing she got to snap a selfie with him. Caroline was not often speechless, but this was a moment where her command of the English language had failed her.