Hunter rubbed his nose: "I seem to be a little too low-key?"
When he was walking up the steps, he happened to meet Donald, a well-known racing driver from Sauber.
This guy won the third place in the last race. It was when the spring breeze was so proud, and even the beautiful woman around him was a stunner. The two stood at the door and gave a sticky kiss before Donald slowly handed out the key.
The waiter was about to pick up the key, but Donald threw it in Hunter's direction.
Hunter leaned back with his pockets in his pocket, and the key landed right in front of his toes.
"Hello!" Donald raised his eyebrows and looked at Hunter a little, the subtext being "Why can't you even take the car keys".
Hunter still looked at him with his pockets in his pockets, then took out the invitation without haste, and handed it to the security guard at the door.
At this time, the waiter quickly picked up the car keys while saying sorry to Hunter.
Hunter looked at himself, and then at the waiter, although they were all wearing suits... He wouldn't be similar to them, would he
"It's temperament."
Teammate... Ah, it should be said that the enemy McGrady walked past him and smiled sarcastically.
Hunter touched the back of his head, puzzled, what is the similarity between his temperament and that of the waiter
The dinner party was staggered, and many well-known media personalities were among them. Team managers and well-known drivers are all surrounded by the center, of course... excluding him as an idler.
Fortunately, the dim sum at the dinner party tasted good.
Hunter enjoys this time of being undisturbed, unnoticed, and eating whatever he wants.
Even if you rub the cream on your face, you don't need to be busy dealing with reporters and peers like those famous drivers... Life is too short, why spend the time you enjoy on socializing
After eating a snack, Hunter walked to the other side contentedly. At this time, a waiter handed the tray to him: "I'm sorry, the foreman asked me to do something, please do it for me! Thank you!"
Hunter's eyes widened as he watched the silhouette of the other party leaving, and then looked at the tray in his hand.
Coincidentally, Maddie also saw this scene and put the empty wine glass in his hand on Hunter's tray.
"Excuse me, waiter."
After he finished speaking, he put a tip of one dollar on it.
Hunter squinted his eyes, it seems that McGrady is still hating Duchovny for failing to block Duchovny in the last game!
Wait, maybe not because of the game, but because of that water grenade in the bathroom
Thinking of this, Hunter smiled and took the dollar down, put it in his pocket, squinted and smiled at Maddie, and said to him with his mouth: Thank you.
Maddie showed the expression that he wanted to get angry but had to hold back.
Hunter suddenly felt refreshed.
At this time, because of the arrival of a certain person, the people at the dinner party looked towards a certain direction as if they were attracted by something.
Hunter also raised his eyes, it was the manager of the Ferrari team, and Vann Winston, who was clearly walking behind him but could not hide his presence.
Today, he is wearing a pure black black dress with almost no style at all, but the simpler the style, the more smooth the line of his waist and shoulders is, which implies a sense of masculine strength.
And those long legs, every step they take, makes the watchers feel enjoyment.
It is self-evident who is at the center of this charity dinner.
It's just that no matter who it is, Winston at most nods slightly and communicates with each other politely and gracefully, but he never shows a smile.
Even if the chairman of the banquet stepped up to shake his hand, he just nodded.
"Did this guy have Botox injections that made his facial muscles stiff so he couldn't laugh?" Hunter rubbed his chin.
But despite his indifference, no one felt his arrogance. They were like moths to a fire, knowing that Vann Winston would always have only one expression, but they still happily surrounded him.
At this time, someone put the empty wine glass on the tray beside him, and then hinted at him with his eyes: Why are you still lazy
Hunter pouted, thinking about another piece of cake, and he left the stage.
Just as he was about to leave this position in search of food, his eyes glanced in the direction of Winston inadvertently, and then he found that although Winston seemed to be listening to the chairman calmly with a wine glass in his hand, his eyes passed through the other's shoulders, from Between the gaps between the guests, it fell on Hunter.
This kind of gaze is emotionless. Hunter thought that the other party was just bored because the chairman had said it for too long, and found another focus for himself, but he quickly realized that it was not just like that...
From his eyes to the tip of his nose, it slowly descends into the neckline, getting deeper and deeper...
Henry turned his face away.
It should be because the air in the banquet hall contains alcohol, and I am not used to it.
He tilted his head and hooked his bow tie with his fingers.
After just a moment, he felt as if his neck was about to be scalded. He subconsciously looked in Winston's direction again.
ah... blocked...
It's definitely an illusion.
Hunter walked to the other side and saw the mini lemon pies.
"It's great, I'll eat you."
The moment he raised his eyes, he inadvertently met Winston's sight again, and a force came backwards and slammed into his body mercilessly. All the foreign objects that could disguise him as him were at that moment. All torn apart.
The body was inexplicably hot, and the blood rushed down.
Hunter tried to look away, but it felt like he was in the traction of the opponent and couldn't turn.
"Now, the auction of this charity dinner is about to start!"
Everyone's eyes were looking towards the auction stand, including Winston.
Hunter could finally exhale.
It should be an illusion just now... I and Winston have only met face to face twice in total.
Once in the bathroom and once in the supermarket, the other party doesn't need to look at him with the same eyes he sees at his enemies!
After the host said a lot of nonsense, he finally got to the point.
"All the auction proceeds from this auction will be handed over to the Ferrari Charity Fund for the rescue of children with leukemia! Please see the first auction item-nicknamed Jaws, which is also the personal total of two consecutive F1 Grand Prix. The gloves that the first-place car king Charles used in the last race!"
There was warm applause at the scene.
"The starting price is five thousand dollars!"
Hunter smiled and ate lemon pie.
The starting price of 5,000 US dollars, if you don't know it, you think it is a modern famous painting!
Oops, it seems that I really should follow what Mr. Marcus said and tighten myself up. When he becomes famous, even if the gloves he used can't sell for $5,000, you can still have them for $500, right
At that time, he will change a pair for every game!
In the end, "Jaws" Shire's gloves sold for $20,000.
Hunt couldn't help but sigh: F1 is indeed the most expensive sport in the world, no one.
"Second auction item below - a T-shirt worn by Ferrari's Vann Winston in a race!"
An excited voice sounded beside Hunter.
"The starting price is also five thousand dollars!"
Before the host's introduction was finished, the bidding started impatiently.
"Six thousand dollars!"
"Seven thousand!"
"Eight thousand!"
…
Hunter nodded while listening to the bidding around him, with a puzzled expression on his face.
It's just a white T-shirt. Why does it have such a value space after being worn by Winston
In the end, the price soared to $50,000.
Hunter felt that the lemon pie was choking on him, and he had to get some water to drink.
When he turned around, he saw a young girl with tears in her eyes, while her father was comforting her.
"Don't be sad, darling. I know the Ferrari strategist very well. When the party is over, I'll ask him to ask Winston for another T-shirt, okay?"
But the girl couldn't stop crying.
To be honest, Hunter has some doubts. How many of these bidding female fans really know F1
"Honey, trust me?" The father wanted to wipe his daughter's tears, but the daughter turned her head away.
Hunter sympathized with him a little, so he adjusted his neckline and came to the girl's side.
"Hey, do you really like Vann Winston?"
"..." The girl was surprised by Hunter's appearance, but nodded anyway, "Yes."
"Then do you know that after an F1 race, the physical consumption of racing drivers is comparable to that of a marathon?"
The girl nodded, still not understanding why Hunter said this suddenly.
"So, in one race, the driver can lose about three liters or so of water. It's absorbed by the white T-shirt... It's a real undershirt, I guess it has a strong Winston odor... I I don't know if it will be pungent?" Hunter shrugged and continued to look at the girl.
"You... are you sick!" The girl became annoyed and turned away.
Hunter touched his nose and whispered to himself, "Am I sick? It's more normal than someone who spends fifty thousand dollars on men's undershirts."
"I don't have any body odor. I don't know if you'll be disappointed."
The icy sound of a silver cup slamming gently in an empty room sounded behind him, and Hunter's back froze. Even if he only heard a few words from the other party, he could still tell that it was Winston's voice.
He... When the hell did he come
Shouldn't this guy be chatting with some of those chairpersons or advertising sponsors or something