You were never into formula 1 even if you grew up in Monaco. But you worked at a cafe in Monaco, it was a quiet place.

One day you saw a non regular customer walk in, he looked wealthy. And good looking.

“Hello, what would you like to order?” You say.

“Can I get a small iced white chocolate mocha, please.” The man says, smiling while looking into your brown eyes.

“Ah, great taste. That will be 5.47. And can I get a name for that?” You say, with a warm smile.

He laughs. And I don’t, but I give him a confused look.

“Oh, excuse me… uh Charles.” He says, scratching the back of his neck.

He pays, and I go to make his drink.

When I’m done I hand it to him.

“Thank you.” The man named Charles says. And I nod.

This happens for a few days until he becomes a regular customer.

“Hey Charles, same thing?” You say as he walks in.

“Actually I would like to switch it up.” He says. And I get ready to take his new order.

“Can I have my coffee with you?” He says, in a friendly manner.