Page 29 of Red Queen
Did he seriously give confidential information away for money and one good night? Come on. That can’t be true. He could have any woman. Why would he accept money from a woman so she can sleep with him? It doesn’t make any sense.
“Seems like he’s in trouble.” I hear Lana’s voice, but I’m still caught up on the news.
“This sounds like bullshit, Lan.”
“Probably. But you never know.” She sighs, and I would fight back, but maybe she is right. Why am I so sure he’s innocent? I basically don’t even know him. “Just be careful, alright?”
“Yeah. I will. Talk to you later. Love ya.”
“Love ya too.” We hang up, and I fall back onto the bed with a thud.
I spend the rest of the day pacing around the TV, listening to the news for anything about Mateo since he didn’t respond to my morning text, understandably. I tried to keep myself busy with cleaning and cooking. I even sat down to watch Friends again, but it was no use. I couldn’t focus on anything else.
It’s almost five and he still hasn’t come back. Media days don’t usually last this long. I hope he’s alright.
By a sudden thought, I decide to go back to my hotel. It’s only a 20-minute walk, so I choose to go on foot. I’m almost a hundred percent sure he’ll want to be alone when he gets back, so I’d rather leave now before he kicks me out.
When I’m back, I pour myself a glass of wine, then draw a bath. I have to relax somehow, get my mind off him, and not worry my ass off. I’m thinking about calling him, but I know I shouldn’t. I don’t want to seem like a clingy idiot who wants to get updates every single time. It would be nice, but it would be crazy to do it, so I don’t.
I slip into the water, the glass in my hand, my phone at an arm’s reach but far enough away not to bother me. I put some music on, some jazz, different from my usual taste. I don’t need to be worked up any more than this right now. As the music somewhat eases my nerves, I light the candles and let the warmth envelop me under the foam cloud.
I gulp the rest of the wine, feeling more and more relaxed as time passes. I turn to the side, admiring the beautiful view the bathroom window provides of the busy evening in Toronto.
It must be hard to travel all the time. Sure, you get to see many, many beautiful places, get to know new people, communities, and form connections, but you’re away from your loved ones all the time. You can have properties in different countries, but are any of them truly homes?
When my uncle got into the world of Formula 1, he was with my dad. They spent every single day together. They were strategists at one of the teams back then. There were slightly fewerraces in a year than now, but they were still far apart. Most of the time, they couldn’t afford to travel back home every time.
Sometimes they had two or three weeks off between races. Then my mom became pregnant, and while she didn’t want my dad to give up his career, he did exactly that. He gave up his job to achieve his dreams, our family. She was six months pregnant when the season ended, and my dad never went back. He sometimes still misses it, but he always says he made the right choice.
My uncle and his wife didn’t think like my dad. He got promoted not too long after, and as he got a higher salary, he traveled back home more times. But he didn’t give up his whole career to be with his family.
Maybe he did the right thing, maybe not. Now, as a team principal, he can bring the whole family with him when he wants to, so he spends more time with them now than back then. At least that’s a plus. He can make up for the lost time.
My phone chimes, and as much as I try to rule the sound out, I check it anyway.
Mateo
Where are you?
So, he’s alive. Thank god. No one got him. Paparazzos can be quite demanding. Even dangerous.
Rosa
Came back to the hotel. I thought you wanted to be alone when you got back.
The three dots appear, then disappear, again and again, until I see his name cover the whole screen. He’s calling me.
“Come back. Please.” His tired voice makes my heart ache.
“I can’t,” I reply, and he lets out a big sigh.
“Why?” he asks with annoyance in his tone.
“I’m taking a bath.” He hums, and for a couple of seconds, no sound comes from the other side of the line.
“Then can I come over?”
I chuckle, thinking he’s kidding, but he doesn’t laugh.“Can’t you wait until I finish?”
