With You, Without Hope | By : Latanya Category: Individual Celebrities > Athlete/Sports Misc Views: 1183 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the people written about in this fanfiction. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
With You, Without
Hope
Chapter
One
It was a beautiful day and I couldn’t help but smile brightly. I
knew it was going to be perfect – fine and sunny, possibly a bit warm. Not that
it mattered really; any weather is perfect in my opinion… just so long as it
didn’t involve hail the size of golf balls. Besides, just being in Italy
sent tingles down my spine. And it couldn’t have been in better circumstances,
what with the San Marino Grand Prix only a week away. But as far as I could
tell, there was only one cloud on the horizon of what was panning out as the
greatest holiday I had ever been on.
And that was my cousin Zarah, her husband and their plans to
find me a nice beau to brighten my life. I suppose her plans were formed in all
good intentions but to some extent, it was my fault that it had come to that. Ever
since I had broken up with my boyfriend of four years, I had avoided having
much to do with the opposite sex – unless they were at least ten years older
than me, married or a friend of my brother. Personally, I couldn’t blame myself
for lacking any sort of trust in males; after all, the bastard had cheated on
me with some short, busty, blond, poncy American chick. I don’t even know what
her name was and nor do I want to know; I think I saw enough of her when I arrived
at his house to find them having relations on his kitchen table.
“So, this is where you are hiding Marzie. I was wondering where
you had gotten to.” My cousins’ shrill voice startled me out of my
contemplations, causing me to turn around and arch an eyebrow.
It didn’t take long for my nose to pick up the scent wafting
from the steaming mug she held in her hand. “Milk, two sugars?”
“Yes.”
“Fantastic. Hand it over.” I accepted the mug of tea from her
and inhaled the rich aroma. “Mmm, perfect.”
Zarah laughed, her soft French accent soothing my tired nerves.
“Don’t worry Marzie; I remembered your addiction to tea. You know, it is
strange that you are addicted to tea when the average person is addicted to
caffeine.”
I snorted, choking on the scolding tea. “Well, I’m pretty sure
that I read somewhere that tea contains nearly as much caffeine as coffee. I
could be wrong, but…. Anyway, what’s wrong with that? I don’t drink alcohol or
coffee and I don’t smoke or do drugs.”
“And that is just plain sad Marzie. One of these days, I am
finally going to drag you out clubbing. You need to lighten up darling, stop
being miss-goody-two-shoes-who-never-puts-a-foot-wrong. Seriously Marzie,
you’re going to grow old far before your time.” She gazed at me in annoyance,
her doe brown eyes catching the light for a moment.
“Maybe I’m happy as I am. Not everybody needs to live life in
the fast lane… well; I do when it comes to driving and kayaking. Okay, when it
comes to sports, I live in the fast lane but the rest of the time I am happy to
dawdle along at my own pace.” I scrunched my nose when she pulled out a
cigarette and lit it.
She caught my reaction and grinned, offering me the offensive
item. “You sure you don’t want to pick up another vice? Lots of people smoke.”
“No thank you, I rather like my lungs in the healthy state
they’re in now. Mind you, we are within four metres of a door.” Nodding at the
door behind us, I start to inch closer to it.
“Marzie we are in Italy,
not Australia. The
four metre rule does not apply here darling… and just where do you think you
are going?”
Pointing at the door, I shrugged. “Clearly, I am heading inside.
I’m going to see if we have any avocados left that I can use on toast for
breakfast. Don’t worry; I’ll be back once I am sure that your morning nicotine
hit is over and done with.”
Dropping her cigarette, she flattened it with her heel before
following me inside. “By the way Marzie, Luc has arranged for you to go horse
riding today with a friend of his. Apparently he has several beautiful Arabian
horses and is quite happy for you to ride them.”
“Yay.” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “And
I suppose he is an unmarried rich man with a taste for tall women with Australian
accents?”
“I don’t think Luc mentioned the tall bit… or the accent
either. But darling Marzie, you don’t have that much of an Australian accent. You
still speak like an Englishwoman and sound like one.” She had followed me
through to the kitchen of the small cottage and was leaning against the stove while
I searched through the fridge for an avocado.
“Still Zarah, I don’t need you or Luc or anyone really to match-make
for me. When I am ready to have my heart broken again, I will become a
matchmaker for myself. I don’t need any help finding a boyfriend!”
She waved her hand at me when I decided to cut my losses and
just have raspberry jam on my toast. “There is an avocado in the fruit bowl
over by the window. We don’t need to keep as much in the fridge as you do back
home. And if you do not need any help finding yourself a man to keep the nights
interesting, why haven’t you got one?”
“Possibly because Daniel broke my heart; and I don’t mean just
in half. He well and truly shattered it!” Putting the jam back, I retrieved the
avocado before putting two slices of bread in the toaster.
“Oh oui, he did indeed. And he left you for some American woman
with big breasts, no brains and no class. Clearly he was all wrong for you if
that is what he does. No Marzie, what you need is a nice gentleman with good
manners, a good body and a good job. Money would be a plus but knowing you,
you’d rather he was intelligent - a good conversationalist.”
Piling avocado onto my toast, I smiled happily. There was
nothing more delicious for breakfast than avocado with a bit of toast. “Yes,
yes, all of that would be nice. But tell me, where on earth would I find a man
like that who wasn’t gay or married already?”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise. “We are in Italy Marzie dear, I
am sure we can find you someone.”
“Well, I don’t care. I don’t want a boyfriend at the moment. Really,
it’s as simple as that. I made a mistake and I don’t plan to make it again until
I am ready. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather drop this conversation.” I took
a bite from a slice of toast and closed my eyes in glee – it was delicious.
I heard her sigh before she made her way out of the kitchen muttering
something about stubborn and Irish in French. At least the conversation was
over and that was all that mattered.
*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*F1*
Sometimes I just couldn’t believe my luck. Every so often,
something happened that made me realize that whoever was watching over everyone
hadn’t forgotten me. Discovering that the friend of Zarah’s husband happened to
own some of the most beautiful horses I had ever seen was definitely a bucket
load of good luck. Being able to ride a feisty chestnut gelding across the
Italian country side was just the pile of cream on top.
Did I mention that I was finally able to ride in a Keifer all-rounder
saddle?
Not that my horses back home weren’t fantastic – in fact, nothing
would ever beat my Anglo-Arabian gelding Bobby – but there was something about
riding perfectly trained horses with beautifully smooth gaits and almost instantaneous
responses. And it was even better when I was led over to a dressage arena and a
fully set up jump course. I think I could have died when I set eyes on the
facilities.
Of course, having one’s cousin and her husband as well as a
group of their friends watching you while you put a strange horse through his
paces can be somewhat disconcerting… that is, if one isn’t used to performing
for an audience. A small group of people watching from the fence is nothing
compared to a grandstand full of people watching you in tense silence and where
the nervous expectation is so thick in the air that you could cut it with a butcher’s
knife. Something could be said about iron
nerves but crowds had never bothered me, so long as I wasn’t in the crowd.
All of that aside, the last thing I was expecting was for another
person to join the group. At the time, I was putting the horse over the jump
course while enjoying the smooth paces and easy stride of my mount. When I
finished it and headed over to the group where Zarah was waiting with a glass
of something that looked like orange juice, I realized that the newcomer was
someone I definitely recognized. Someone I certainly never expected to meet at
the home of a good friend of Luc’s.
Swallowing, I smiled at everyone and took my helmet off –
swapping it for the glass in Zarah’s hand. “He’s a stunner Marc. I don’t
suppose you’d be willing to ship him over to Australia
for me? He’d be perfect for three-day-eventing.”
The group laughed and I handed Zarah back the empty glass. When
she held my helmet out to me, I rolled my eyes and nudged the horse around
before breaking into a canter towards the first jump. Perhaps I was a little too
confident but at the fifth jump, the gelding caught the top rail of the last
jump in the triple and brought it down with a clatter; thereby ruining my
record of only clear rounds so far. Cursing under my breath, I turned him
towards the next jump and cleared my mind. Once calmed, I completed the course
without any more mishaps and cantered back to the group.
“You took down a rail Marzie.” Luc commented dryly, his mouth
twitching in amusement at the dark look I gave him.
“Si, I
noticed. Still, one rail down isn’t too bad. I have had worse rounds in
competition.” I replied lightly, shrugging off the rail – it didn’t matter
really, I was just embarrassed to have knocked a rail down while Flavio
Briatore was watching.
The Renault team boss was watching me and I cocked my head to
the side and smiled. He nodded, waving his hand towards the jumps. “You are
very good. I have never paid much attention to such sports as horse riding.”
“Thank you sir, I’m pleased that even the most seasoned Formula
One team bosses can appreciate the more traditional sports.” I bowed politely, relaxing
in the saddle now that I was sure the tense moment was over.
Marc grinned at me before turning to his other guests and
suggesting that they headed back to the house and allowed me to continue
playing. However, Flavio and Zarah remained behind with looks on their faces
that gave me the distinct impression they wanted to talk. Talk seriously. Beneath
me, the horse shifted his weight from one side to the other and tossed his head.
Running my hand along his neck, I twined strands of his mane through my fingers
and waited for one of them to speak.
When neither said anything but continued to watch me, I sighed
and dismounted, lifting the reins over the geldings head and holding them
loosely in my hand. “So, you wanted to speak to me about something?”
“Let’s walk back to the stable Marzie.” Zarah suggested,
handing me the helmet.
Nodding, I lead the gelding along as we walked. “I suppose it
was about time I unsaddled anyway.”
“Zarah tells me that you have finished university. May I ask
what you studied?” Flavio was walking on my left side while Zarah trailed
behind slightly.
“Political science and journalism; I’d like to work as an
international politics news correspondent.” I watched him curiously, out of the
corner of my eye.
He pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “But you are not working
now? You are taking the year off before you start searching for a serious job?”
The stable wasn’t far away and I paused for a moment to look at
him. “I did sixteen years of straight education, so yes, I am taking the year
off and really doing nothing much at all.”
Exchanging looks with Zarah, the older Italian man smiled. “See,
I have a problem. My PR girl found out she was pregnant a month ago and has had
to quit because she cannot fly around the world. When Marc mentioned that Luc’s
wife had a cousin with a journalist degree, I was interested; particularly when
it was mentioned that you like Formula One and race go-karts occasionally.”
“Are you asking me if I’d like to work for you as a PR girl?”
My eyes must have reflected my disbelief because he chuckled.
“Yes, if you are interested.”
I think I would have fainted if I hadn’t been holding onto a
horse. “Let me get this straight before I even consider it. You, Flavio
Briatore, are offering me, a humble university graduate, a job in public
relations. For the Formula One team, Renault, nonetheless.”
Zarah groaned, covering her eyes with her hands. “Yes Marzie, that is exactly what he is offering you.”
“But why me? Why not someone who is
experienced in the PR sector?” I asked.
“Because you are just the sort of image we need. You are
intelligent, quick witted and incredibly active in sports.” He replied,
answering my question with aspects of my personality that I knew he couldn’t
have gathered himself.
“All right Zarah, what have you gotten me into?” Growling at my
cousin, I started walking again in the direction of the stable.
They followed me as I knew they would, while Zarah chattered
away in an attempt to explain her actions. She stopped once we reached the big
double doors that opened into the stable and I turned to them with a grin.
“You are not going to kill me are you Marzie dear?” My cousin
looked disturbed, her doe eyes wide.
Grinning wider, I shook my head. “No, not this time. But Mr
Briatore, I’d like a day or so to think about it. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all. You can have a couple
of days to think.” He held out a hand. “But let me say, it would be wonderful
if you said yes. We at Renault like to consider ourselves a happy family that
includes people with a wide range of talents. I think you would fit right in.”
I shrugged, “Probably, but who knows. Like I said, I’ll think
about it. But for now, I think I better take care of this beautiful animal. He
needs a good wash and groom. I speak to you both later on when I’m finished.”
And with that, I left them standing there while I went to take
care of the gelding I had been riding.
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