PR Disaster - Charles Leclerc

23

"Mom doesn't bite, don't worry." Charles laughed.

"Does your mom know about..." I trailed off.

"Yeah, she does." He answered, "I went home to her, Lorenzo and Arthur in my living room."

"Oh."

Putting the pieces together, from what he said and what Arthur told me on Sunday, Charles clearly copped a lot from everyone and that realization punched me in the stomach.

"We leave at ten tomorrow."

"Sounds good." I said, "Thanks for dinner, Charles."

*

The drive to Charles' mom's hair salon was quiet, the car was filled with the songs he was playing. I made myself a coffee before we left this morning and Charles reminded me that coffee isn't breakfast. The drive to the place wasn't long, it was easy to get around in Monaco. We arrived at Charles' mom's hair salon and per usual, Charles struggled to park. I opened my mouth, about to ask him if he needed help.

"Just give me a second. I can park, alright?"

"Fake it til you make it, I guess." I commented, shrugging. It took Charles four tries until he successfully parked between the lines. He turned off the car in haste and jumped out of the car. I followed him out, "I thought I'm the one with the time management issue."

"I'm always on time! Unless I have to park." And we ran down the stairs.

Charles' mom, Pascale Lerclerc, was already waiting inside.

"Bonjour, maman!" (Hello, mom!) Charles greeted, giving Pascale a hug and kissed both sides of her cheeks. "C'est Soleil, vous l'avez rencontrée plusieurs fois." (This is Soleil, you've met her a few times.)

"Bonjour, Charles!" (Hello, Charles!) Pascale replied.

I don't speak French, but I can deal with context clues. Pascale's hair was blonde and luscious, she wearing wearing a striped shirt with linen pants, a smile on her face.

"Hello, I'm Soleil." I chirped, "Nice to meet you!"

"Oui, oui!" (Yes, yes!) Pascale replied, "Nice to finally meet you properly! Charles told me a lot about you. I'm Pascale."

He did?

I glanced over to Charles, whose cheeks were turning pink, as Pascale pulled me into a hug, also giving me two kisses on the cheeks, "Good things, I hope."

"Elle est un tel rayon de soleil, n'cest-ce pas, Charles?" (She's such a ray of sunshine, isn't she, Charles?)

"Oui, maman." (Yes, mom.)

I gave Charles a confused look, hearing my name in a sentence. However, Pascale moved on before I had the chance to ask.

"Sit, sit. Make yourselves feel comfortable!" She declared.

The camera man followed the Leclercs around the shop, from Charles getting his hairwash to him sitting on the chair getting his hair cut by Pascale. I sat still on the couch, watching them converse in both French and English. Pascale trimmed his sides, Charles said he wanted the fade back. As much as I hate to admit it, he looks good with the fade.

"So Soleil, are Charles and Carlos treating you well at Ferrari?" Pascale asked, stepping away from Charles as he started drying his hair. She grabbed two glasses of water and handed one to me, taking a seat across.

"Oh, merci," (Oh, thank you.) I took a sip, "Yes, they are. They do make my job harder sometimes." I joked.

"Charles!" Pascale scolded jokingly, but he couldn't hear us due to the hair dryer. "Soleil, I want to say sorry for what Charles did-"