Prologue

                                    

                                          
October 2012
Sebastian Vettel was in a foul mood. He'd had another argument with Celestine. It's all they seemed to do nowadays. She just didn't seem to understand the pressure he was under. He was the youngest ever double Formula 1 world champion, and he was fighting for his third. He couldn't just drop everything for her as much as he loved her. 
He flung the door open and marched through to the staff canteen. He didn't notice the girl on the other side. The door hit her and knocked the stack of folders out of her hands.  She gave a startled cry and bent down, picking up all of her things.
"Wish people would watch where they are going," she muttered under her breath, not realising who it was that had caused the mishap . 
He took in the view. She is cute, he thought to himself. Shoulder length dark brown hair hanging loose. A pair of glasses perched on her nose. Kinda nerdy but he liked the look. She had a fantastic pair of tits on her too! He opened his mouth to apologise for his clumsiness, but before he could spit the words out she unleashed a rant at him.
"You clumsy oaf! Watch where you're going next time!" she complained, rubbing her hand where the door had hit her.
"Keep your hair on," he retorted, annoyed that she was, in his opinion, totally overreacting. She stood up and stormed off. What a rude woman!! Cute or not, she had a attitude problem. Still, he'd never seen her around Red Bull before, he figured he probably wouldn't again. She was more than likely some rep that had been in for a meeting, or a reporter or something. She didn't look old enough mind you. She looked a lot younger than his 25 years. Shame she was so rude, he wouldn't of minded a little flirt with her. Then he remembered Celestine and scowled. Flirting is not cheating anyway, he thought. He could look as long as he didn't touch. But the point was irrelevant now anyway as he was unlikely to see her again. He shrugged and carried on his way, soon forgetting all about her. 
                                      ***
Charlotte Lawson clutched her folders tightly to her chest as she stormed across the car park to her old, beat up, Ford Fiesta. What a rude man! She didn't know who he was, or who he thought he was, but she hoped she never had to see him again. 
So what if he was pretty dishy and had a sexy accent. She couldn't quite place it, maybe German? It did sound kind of similar to her old German teacher, Herr Müller.  She opened the back door and flung the folders on the back seat. Maybe she shouldn't have snapped at him like she did but the door had really hurt her hand and she was under a lot of stress as it was. 
She'd just been for an interview for a job as Team Photograper at Red Bull Racing. The folders contained examples of her work. She thought it had gone well. Christian Horner had seemed quite impressed with her work, as had the HR manager, Teresa. 
Now it was just a waiting game. If she got the job she would be starting next season when their current photographer retired.  
She used to follow Formula 1 when she was younger but as she got older her interests had led her elsewhere. Her real passion was photography so she had decided to study that at college and make a career out of it. She'd spent a couple of years taking photos up at Silverstone for other categories but had never snapped the Formula 1 cars. So when she saw the advert she thought it was worth a go. She'd been surprised when she'd had a phone call asking her to go in for an interview. 
She drove across the city to her Dad's house. She visited him as often as she could. She parked her car outside and let herself in.
"Dad! It's me," she called.
"Hello love," he greeted her. "I was just having some stew. Did you want some?" 
"Only if it comes with dumplings, " she said, dropping a kiss on her father's cheek. It had been just them since she was 5 years old. Her mother had left one day and never came back. Her dad heard through the grapevine that she'd run off to America with another man. So for the last 18 years she and her dad had been each other's world. 
Martin Lawson dished a bowl of stew and dumplings up for his daughter. He missed her a lot now she had her own flat in another town, but he knew that she had to fly the nest sometime. 
"How did your interview go?"
"Good, I think. Mr Horner was full of praise for my work. He said they'll let me know once they've interviewed the other candidates."
"Don't suppose you saw either of the drivers did you?" 
"I wouldn't know if I did Dad. I haven't followed Formula 1 in years. Last time I watched was when Alonso won his first championship. In fact I don't even know who the Red Bull drivers are. I suppose I should know these things if I want to work in Formula 1."
"You remember Mark Webber surely?"
"The Aussie? Yeah, just about."
"Well he's one of the drivers. The other is a young German, not much older than you. He's won two world championships for them, and looks on course for number three. Sebastian Vettel."
"Did you manage to get your shopping." she asked, changing the subject. Her dad didn't drive and had to rely on his neighbour to take him if he wanted to do a big shop. 
" Yes I did. Tom took me this morning." 
"Just let me know if you need anything else. Dad. I honestly don't mind." He grumbled something about not wanting to cause her any trouble. Charlotte shushed him. "Dad, you've done enough for me over the years. "
" You're a good girl Lottie." She smiled at her dad and they carried their bowls into the lounge and sat in front of the television. 
"You watching old races again?"
"Yes, it's really good this new Sky Sports F1 channel. This is Monza 2008. Sebastian Vettel's first win. He drove for Toro Rosso then. He didn't move to Red Bull until the season after."
 They sat in a comfortable silence eating and watching the race. When they had finished Charlotte  took the bowls to wash them up.  She had a little clean around, then headed back into the lounge. The race had finished and they were now interviewing the drivers on the podium. 
"There, that's Vettel,' her dad pointed out. She recognised the voice first. That sneering German accent. Then she saw him. He was older now but it was unmistakably the man from earlier.
"Shit," she whispered under her breath.