Three Dumb Ideas | Formula 1 fanfiction

31: Your wife

Two days later.

Maeve's point of view:

I walk inside the restaurant, I'm wearing a comfy outfit because I'm still hungover from last night.

'Mrs Verstappen? Your husband is waiting on you at table six', a waiter approaches me.

I take off my sunglasses and I look her dead in the eyes.

'What did you say?', I hiss.

'Ma'am? Did I say something wrong?', she stutters.

'Do you like your job?', the waiter nods. 'Then you better bring me a bottle of wine, and you'll pay for it, otherwise, this will be your last day'.

'Ma'am, I'm sorry. Of course yes, but may I ask what I did wrong?', she looks like she's about to cry.

'We women should stick up for each other right? So how come you only know the names of male f1 drivers?'.

'I don't watch Formula 1, I just called you the name that's on the reservation, that your husband booked'.

'Husband? Oh christ. I'm not his wife, I'm his teammate. I am Maeve Vettel, daughter of Sebastian Vettel. Does that ring a bell?', my arrogance is coming out and I kinda feel bad for the woman.

'I'm sorry no, we don't have money for a tv at home. I don't watch Formula 1', she says awkwardly.

Okay now I definitely feel bad, so I grab my purse and my checkbook.

'Okay, I'm sorry I should've been nicer to you', I write a check and give it to her.

'Provide for your family, get nice clothes. Please do something with it', I smile.

She looks at the check and her eyes grow big.

She fucking starts crying.

'Thank you so much!! Thank you Miss Vettel', she hugs me.

Jesus, it's only 50k.

Max's point of view

'There you are, Jesus you look horrible', Maeve is walking to our table.

'Fuck you Verstappen, I think I'm still drunk', she says while sitting down.

'You know the best way to beat a hangover?', I ask her.

She shakes her head.

'More alcohol', I wave to the waiter and he walks up to us.

'Don't worry about that bottle of wine, I don't need it anymore', Maeve tells the waiter, who nods.

What is she talking about?

'We would like a bottle of your finest champagne', I say.

Maeve's eyes grow big.

'What the fuck? It's 13:05', she says.

'It must be 5 o'clock somewhere, am I right Mr Waiter?', I smile.

'Y-yes sir, I will get that bottle right now', he walks off.

'So? Bottle of wine?', I ask her.

'Yeah I kinda just got really angry at this girl, then I lost 50k', she takes a sip of her water.

'What the? Why did you get mad at the poor woman?', I look at her eyes, they're beautiful.

Wait what, no they're horrible.

Max stay in your fucking role.

'She called me your wife', she looks disgusted.

'Yeah, I said that to book this reservation. I had to make it look more real you know? Otherwise, we wouldn't have a table right now', I tell her.

But now, hearing it come from her mouth, your wife, it does stuff to me.

'Now I feel bad for her, I should've known it was just you screwing with me', she says.

'I would never screw with you, how dare you accuse me of that?', I smirk.

'Oh jeez, I hate you', but I can see a little laugh.

'Take a picture with me please, for Instagram', she asks.

'Why?', I ask confused.

'Because the fans need to believe we like each other', she pulls out her phone and asks the waiter to take a photo of us.

'Please include the champagne, it's way too expensive to not give any fame', I tell him.

He takes a picture and she posts it on her Instagram.

I repost it on my story.

'This good enough?', I ask.

'Yes thank you'.

We order our food, she tells me she wants a salad but then orders a burger.

She is debating between a hamburger and a chicken burger.

She orders the chickenburger.

So I order the hamburger.

When the food arrives she looks at mine, and like I expected, she thinks she made the wrong choice.

I cut my burger in half.

Maeve's point of view

'Cut your burger in half', he says.

'Why?', I ask.

'Just do it'.

I cut my burger in half.

I look at his burger, god I should've chosen that one.

He grabs the cut half of his burger and places it on my plate.

Then he grabs mine and places it on his.

'How did you-?', I ask him.

'I knew it when you ordered the chicken one, you like normal meat more', he smirks.

Why am I suddenly feeling... happy?

He's a dick, he called me a bitch.

But now he... he gave me his half.

'Max, that's really sweet. I suppose I won't stab your hand with a fork', I smile.

'Funny story, my dad did that to a mechanic onc-'

'Max stop it', I laugh.

He laughs too.

Suddenly, it feels okay.

No harsh feelings or whatever.

But yet again, I thought that before.

We won't know how long this time will be.

So I better enjoy it.