Could You Not Tease Me?

Hunter rubbed his nose: "I seem to be too low-key?"

When he walked up the steps, he just ran into Donald, a well-known racing driver of the Sauber team.

This guy won No.3 in the last competition. It was the time when the spring breeze was in full swing, and even the beautiful woman beside him was also a stunner.The two stood at the door and kissed stickily, and then 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 pocket in his pocket, and the key landed just in front of his toes.

"Hey!" Donald raised his eyebrows and looked at Hunter slightly. The subtext was "Why can't you even connect the car keys well?"

Hunter still looked at him with his pocket in his pocket, then took out the invitation card unhurriedly and handed it to the security guard at the door.

At this time, the waiter hurriedly said sorry to Hunter, and picked up the car keys.

Hunter looked at himself, and then at the waiters. Although they were all wearing suits...he couldn't be similar to them, could he?

"It's temperament."

Teammates... Ah, it should be said that the enemy McGrady walked by him and smiled mockingly.

Hunter touched the back of his head, puzzled, what is the similarity between his temperament and the waiter's?

At the dinner, there was a lot of wine and wine, and many well-known media personalities were among them.The team manager and well-known drivers have become the center of being surrounded, of course...not including him, an idler.

Fortunately, the snacks at the dinner party tasted good.

Hunter enjoyed this time when he was not disturbed or noticed, and he could eat whatever he wanted.

Even if you rub the cream on your face, you don't need to be busy with reporters and colleagues 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 moment, a waiter handed over the tray to him: "I'm sorry, the foreman called me something, please help me! Thank you!"

Hunter opened his eyes wide to see the leaving figure of the other party, and then looked at the tray in his hand.

Coincidentally, McGrady also saw this scene, and directly put the empty wine glass in his hand on Hunter's tray.

"Excuse me, waiter."

After finishing speaking, he put a tip of one dollar on it by the way.

Hunter squinted his eyes. It seemed that McGrady still hated him because he failed to block Duchovny in the last race!

Wait, maybe not because of the game, but because of that water grenade in the bathroom?

Thinking of this, Hunter took down the dollar bill with a smile, put it in his pocket, squinted his eyes and smiled at Maddy, and mouthed to him: Thank you.

Sure enough, McGrady showed an expression that wanted to get angry but had to hold back.

Hunter suddenly felt refreshed.

At this moment, because of someone's arrival, the people at the dinner party looked in a certain direction as if they were pulled 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 couldn't 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 outline of his waist and shoulders, implying a sense of masculine strength.

And those long legs, every step you take, makes the watchers feel enjoyment.

Who is at the center of this charity dinner is self-evident.

It's just that no matter who it is, Winston at most nodded slightly to communicate with the other party politely and gracefully, but never showed a smile.

Even if the chairman of this dinner came forward to shake hands with him, he just nodded.

"Did this guy inject botox to make his facial muscles stiff so he couldn't smile?" Hunter touched his chin.

But despite their indifference, no one felt his arrogance. They were like moths to a flame. They knew that Van Winston would always have only one expression, but they still surrounded him happily.

At this time, someone put an empty wine glass on the tray beside him, and hinted him with his eyes: why are you still lazy?

Hunter curled his lips, thinking he would leave after eating another piece of cake.

Just as he was about to look for delicious food and leave this position, 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, never Between the guests, it fell on Hunter.

There was no emotion in such gazes. Hunter thought that the other party was just bored because the chairman had been talking for too long, and he wanted to find another focus for himself, but he soon discovered that it was not just that...

From his eyes to the tip of his nose, slowly descending, sinking into the neckline, getting deeper and deeper...

Hunter turned his head away.

It should be that 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 burned.He subconsciously looked in Winston's direction again.

Ah... blocked by someone...

It really is an illusion.

Hunter walked to the other side and saw mini lemon pies.

"Great, I'll eat you."

The moment he raised his eyes, he inadvertently came into contact with Winston's gaze again, and an invisible force came retrograde and slammed into his body fiercely. All torn and stripped.

His body was inexplicably hot, and blood poured down.

Hunter wanted to look away, but at this moment it felt like he was in the traction of the other party and could not turn.

"Now, the auction for this charity dinner is about to begin!"

Everyone's eyes were on the auction display stand, including Winston.

Hunter could finally breathe out.

What happened just now should be an illusion... 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 me like an enemy!

After the host talked a lot of nonsense, he finally got to the point.

"All the proceeds from this auction will be handed over to the Ferrari Charity Fund for the relief of children with leukemia! Let's take a look at the first auction item - nicknamed Great White Shark, which is also an individual from two consecutive F1 Grand Prix The gloves used by the No.1 car king Shire in the last sub-station!"

There was warm applause at the scene.

"The starting price is five thousand dollars!"

Hunter laughed and ate his lemon pie.

With a starting price of US$[-], those who didn't know it thought it was a famous modern painting!

Oh, it seems that I should really tense up according to what Mr. Marcus said. When I become famous, even if his used gloves can't be sold for five thousand dollars, I can still have five hundred dollars, right?

At that time, he will change a pair every game!

In the end, "Jaws" Shire's gloves sold for $[-].

Hunter couldn't help sighing: F1 is indeed the most expensive sport in the world, bar none.

"The following is the second auction item - the T-shirt that Ferrari's Van Winston once wore in the race!"

There was a burst of excited voices from Hunter's side.

"The starting price is also five thousand dollars!"

Before the host's introduction was finished, the bidding began impatiently.

"Six thousand dollars!"

"Seven thousand!"

"Eight thousand!"

……

Hunter nodded while listening to the bidding sounds around him, with a puzzled expression on his face.

It's just a white T-shirt, why is there such a value space after being worn by Winston?

In the end, the price soared to $[-].

Hunter thought the lemon pie was choking him so badly that he needed to find some water.

As soon as she turned around, she saw a young girl with teary eyes, and her father was comforting her.

"Don't be sad, dear. I know the Ferrari strategist very well. When the party is over, I'll ask him to help me get another T-shirt from Winston, okay?"

But the girl couldn't stop crying.

To be honest, Hunter was a little skeptical, how many of these female fans who bid really knew about F1?

"Honey, trust me?" The father wanted to wipe his daughter's tears, but the daughter turned her head away.

Hunter felt a little sympathetic to him, so he straightened his neckline and came to the girl's side.

"Hey, don't you really like Van Winston?"

"..." The girl felt strange about Hunter's appearance, but she nodded, "Yes."

"Then do you know that after an F1 race, the physical exertion of a driver is comparable to that of a marathon?"

The girl nodded, still not understanding why Hunter said this all of a sudden.

"So, in a race, a driver can lose about three liters of water. That's absorbed by that white T-shirt...it's a veritable undershirt, and I'm guessing it has a strong Winston odor... ...I don't know if it will be pungent?" Hunter shrugged his shoulders and continued to look at the girl.

"Are...are you sick!" The girl was anxious, and turned to leave.

Hunter touched his nose and said to himself in a low voice: "Am I sick? It's more normal than someone who spends [-] dollars to buy men's undershirts."

"I don't smell much. Don't know if you'll be disappointed."

Like the cold sound of silver cups being knocked lightly in an empty room, Hunter's back stiffened. Even after hearing only a few words from the other party, he could still tell that it was Winston's voice.

He... When did he come?

Shouldn't this guy be chatting with some kind of chairman or advertising sponsor or something?