Chapter 11: An Unexpected Invitation.
Hours later, while having lunch at Flo's, Tim and Cruz sat down to eat together.
Lightning and Sally were in the same place, with their son in the baby stroller, but at one of the outdoor tables.
Cruz could see the older couple from one of the windows, she was picking at the peas that came with the plate of mashed potatoes and a steak. She wasn't eating, she was just picking at it while she continued to stare out, trying to guess, still. Why did such a feeling suddenly arise in her? But... she was also thinking about...
-It was Jackson, right? –
Suddenly Tim's voice brought her back to earth.
-Huh? – She shook her head a little and looked at him. -What are you talking about? –
-Jackson Storm, I saw you two when you were talking near the driving school, and you didn't seem very happy. Did he do something to you? – Tim asked, it was something the dark-skinned guy had wanted to ask for hours.
Cruz denied. A few minutes after talking to Jackson, Lightning had caught up with the pair, and there she said goodbye to Storm until a new meeting, since the young man was going to train with Francesco somewhere else.
-No Tim, you know him, he just came to show off. Nothing different happened. – She forced herself to smile, and finally brought the fork with food to her mouth. – Wow! This is very good. – She announced after swallowing.
-You say when it's been a while since Mrs. Flo has served you. Your absence was starting to worry me. – Tim spoke again.
-Ah... Yes... – Cruz lowered her gaze a little. – Yes, I'm sorry. Although really, it was nothing. Better enjoy lunch, we have to get back to work. – Now she smiled seriously.
Tim raised an eyebrow in surprise, it seemed that she had recovered from something and was already excited as always.
Outside, Lightning was talking to his wife, telling her about his day, very communicative, as if he wanted to announce that he felt as comfortable as the time they met, more comfortable than anyone else in the world. And of course, this was because it had been quite a few days since they had had lunch as a family, that they hadn't talked much... And obviously because of the Bernoulli issue...
Deep down, McQueen didn't want them to go to dinner together that night, hiding his jealousy so as not to make Sally uncomfortable. So, at that lunch he just dedicated himself to enjoying his family, talking about random topics.
Meanwhile, in the WW Motel restaurant, Francesco and Jackson were at the same table, talking about that morning's training.
The Italian man looked again as if he hadn't been on the dirt track, neat, in a black shirt and elegant pants. Now he was sipping a little mineral water, before being served the main course.
The waiter would come with their orders soon.
-I think I'll apply the advice you gave me in the next season. – Jackson said.
-You think so? – Francesco asked. Leaving the glass of water on the table.
-... I'm going to do it. – The younger man corrected.
-That's the idea, otherwise, why did you ask me for help? – He smiled. – It would be interesting to see how you try to "crush" Miss Ramirez. -
-I'm not going to try it; I'm going to do it. When I realized that her rustic techniques were feasible, I knew I had to change strategy. I know that high technology is good, but open field training is a real challenge. It's different... Very different, even the exercise to maintain control of the car, the pain in the muscles is intense, my back still hurts from so much jumping on uneven terrain. -
-Praise for the things you made fun of, how ironic. – Francesco almost laughed. -Have you really not done this before? –
-Of course, when I was a child I participated in Karting races, on special tracks that had nothing to do with technological centers... And I was very good, the best. – Jackson felt real pride remembering that and putting full confidence in his words.
-Meh... Most racers start like that, it's nothing new. But it seems you lost the concept when you reached the major leagues, even in your enthusiasm to win you were afraid of a real competition, that's why you were almost negligent with Miss Ramirez... And before with McQueen and others. –
He knew his tricks, Jackson didn't know how to hide his impulses, it was even noticeable when watching him on TV, and Francesco confirmed it in training that morning.
-What? – The young guy asked surprised, his tone was like: "I can't believe you're saying this to ME, to Jackson Storm, and as if it were a confirmation."
-Kid, don't be silly, Francesco has seen many of your races, and taking out McQueen was one of your goals... You did it acting like a rude brat... - He laughed. – I don't blame you; I did the same as a distraction, but not out of fear. Francesco loved opponents with real potential and although losing was bad, it wasn't terrible. But you... You're afraid of falling behind... And I imagine it's humiliating for you when a girl kicks your spoiler.
-I don't care if she's a girl... - He looked away, making a very childish face. -She's the most irritating person I've ever met in my life. -
-And you have to see her in all your seasons. Those long seasons. - The man with intense brown eyes added. -If you don't mind that she's a girl, then you see her as an equal and admit that she's good at what she does. -
The waiter arrives with the main dishes of their lunch.
-Excuse me, gentlemen, excuse the delay. - The young waiter says and places the plates from the tray to the table, first for Francesco, then for Jackson.
The services were already in place, the napkins too, now the server opened a bottle of champagne, then filled a glass for Mr. Bernoulli.
-Thank you. - The Italian man told him.
Jackson was served with an energy drink in a large glass.
-Everything ready, if you need anything else, please don't hesitate to let me know. – The waiter bowed slightly and left, carrying his empty tray.
Francesco nodded to the guy before he left.
-I love the service here- The Italian guy commented, leading to another topic and looked at his plate with grilled chicken breast and salad with vinaigrette sauce. –It's as good or better than any fine restaurant I've been to around the world.
-Yeah... I thought I'd order a finer dish... - Jackson said, and began to take a piece of his ragout lasagna with mushrooms.
The veteran racer laughed lightly before taking a bite.
-Francesco knows he looks like royalty, but he likes to order things from the "plebs" from time to time. Even... There are small cafes that I like a lot... –
-Speaking of the "plebs"... If you'll excuse the comment, I heard that you and McQueen's wife are going out to dinner tonight. – I didn't know if he said it out of curiosity or because he really wanted to see the Italian's reaction to this. Jackson heard the comment at the driving school, after returning from training.
Mater and McQueen whispered about the matter before lunch, and the young racer did not avoid being on the receiving end of it.
-Yes, a thank you dinner. She is always very kind to me whenever I come to town, and maybe tomorrow morning I will go to California and then take a plane back to Italy. - Mr. Bernoulli replied naturally and drank from his glass.
-What? Tomorrow already? And training? - Jackson seemed almost panicked. It was not enough for him.
-I said "Maybe", but come on, you quickly learned the little tips I gave you. You're good, you'll know what to do if you keep taking advantage of it. It's not easy to say this, but Francesco learned tricks from both McQueen and the other champions. Every time they organized a special race, it was a challenge and a learning experience at the same time. - He spoke after swallowing the liquid. -Hey, how about you come to dinner tonight... And invite Miss Ramirez. - His smile was mischievous.
Storm began to resign himself to the words Francesco had just told him: "He might be right," thought.
But he felt a somewhat annoying ringing in his ears when the Italian jumped in with that sudden last sentence.
-E... Excuse me? - Shocked. - Why would I invite Cruz "Board Body" Ramirez to dinner? There were more attractive girls visiting the town. –
-Oh... Don't be like that, she's a cute girl. Besides, it's good to know the enemy better. Maybe you'll find some weakness there. Besides, I'd like Miss Sally not to feel so uncomfortable, I know she's worried about what McQueen is thinking about this. – It was an obvious persuasion.
Storm snorted.
-Okay, I accept. – But reluctantly.
-Move your cards quickly so she doesn't make other plans tonight. –
-Maybe her plans are just to sleep. – Jackson mocked.
Francesco began to feel guilty about something that crossed his mind... He realized that Cruz was putting her happy eye on McQueen, and he wanted to take advantage to do something treacherous, trying to push her to the wrong side of the road, but he thought better of it and of course it wouldn't be a good idea to make a dirty move, it would be a real disaster. With the other thing he had in mind that night, it was already too much.
While Jackson sent a message to Cruz's cell phone, with the invitation to dinner, he was going straight to the point with certain things, besides, he wanted to show that he wasn't afraid of her as many believed.
-Hey Mr. Bernoulli... - The young racer broke the silence, while writing on his cell phone.
-Uh? - Francesco enjoyed his lunch, taking advantage of the calm.
-Don't you have a serious commitment with some girl? That way you wouldn't have to invite the rival's wife to join for dinner. – His tone was somewhat sarcastic.
-Eh... No... - He put down his fork and knife for a moment. – But, to be honest, long time ago, I met a woman, and... Francesco wants something serious with her. – He made a small smile. – It's the first time I really want to be with someone. –
-Wow, you're going to leave a lot of broken hearts. The Don Juan of racing turned into Romeo. –
-You see... - The Italian sighed. - The time of a lad who likes to be surrounded by beautiful damsels... Is left behind. –
-Great... Congratulations. –
And finally, Jackson sent the message.
To be continued...
Disclaimer:
-This story belongs to me © Shadoru.
-The characters are Canon of Cars © Disney. PIXAR.
-Sorry my bad English.
