Page 14 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

This is spectacular .

I almost lose my ability to breathe as I take in the view before me.

The lush, sweeping greenery. The stunning historic resort nestled in the hills outside of Bologna, Italy.

It’s like something out of a movie, it’s so beautiful!

As the car pulls up to the entrance, I continue to drink in every drop of the scenery before me.

The splashing fountains. The landscape filled with vineyards and olive trees.

It’s breathtaking.

This is where I will be staying for the week for the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix.

Tomorrow, this is where Caleb Collings will sit down for his first one-on-one interview since becoming a Formula One driver.

And that interview will be with me.

I still can’t believe how this is my life. Everything changed when Caleb decided to give me that tour of the motorhome. It led to me not only getting to do another assignment for The Downforce Network, but the opportunity to interview him about his car.

And that piece of content I created for my channels?

On my Connectivity Story Share, I had more than one hundred thousand views.

In twenty-four hours.

It’s already past one million views now.

I’ve received several promotional sponsorship opportunities, but I will only do those if they align with the brand I’m building and I like the product. Thank God my agent is wading through those, and my dad is an attorney, so I’ve asked for his thoughts, too.

But now comes the biggest opportunity of all. I get to interview Caleb Collings.

My mind is spinning as the car comes to a stop in front of the main building. Everything seems to be happening so fast. As soon as I told The Downforce Network about the chance I had to interview Caleb, to say they were interested would be an understatement.

They were salivating.

But I didn’t just hand over my interview.

I gave them my ground rules. It’s going to be upbeat and fun.

I will not dive into his personal life—or that of his family.

They balked a bit about that—and I know they wish they could have one of their star F1 reporters conduct the interview instead—but I held firm.

The interview will be conducted my way on behalf of the network, or I’ll just do it myself and put it up as content on my platform.

They agreed—and gave me a hefty sum to do it, along with plush accommodations, like flying me out first class to Italy, arranging a driver for me, getting me a suite at a sold-out resort.

As I step out of the car and breathe in the magnificent country air, I know my mission is two-fold: I want to use this to get a freelance position producing content for The Downforce Network. This will also create a lot of traffic to my social media channels, and I plan to leverage it.

This could be the start of my professional life in Formula 1.

As the resort staff rush up to greet me, placing my bags on a cart and ushering me through the doors to the check-in counter, I know there’s a third part to my mission.

I want to help Caleb get over his distrust of the media.

I’m not saying it isn’t warranted after what happened to his family, and the glare on F1 drivers is massive.

But he can still share parts of himself to show the world what a good guy he is.

The hits on the pieces I did with him in Miami were HUGE.

So many views and shares, and The Downforce Network said it was some of their most popular non-race content EVER.

Caleb doesn’t have to share all of himself—he fiercely guards what is his—but it would mean the world to his fans if he can find some parts to reveal to them.

This is what I hope to pull out of him tomorrow. To get him to open up. Have some fun. Enjoy the conversation we’ll have.

I swallow. And the goal for myself?

To not end up with a ridiculous crush on him afterward.

I check in, and then I’m on the elevator up to my room, with my bags soon to follow behind. I can’t wait to sleep. I don’t sleep well on airplanes, and I’ve been running on airport Starbucks and protein bars.

Once my bags are brought up, I take a moment to text everyone who needs to know my whereabouts.

My mom and dad, of course. Then Hadleigh, who told me I’m to video document everything so she can live this experience with me.

I contact the producer for The Downforce Network, who replies and tells me everything is a go for tomorrow.

They rent a villa here at the resort every year for the race—it’s used to entertain their elite advertisers and top executives.

I have it for a few hours on Thursday afternoon, and my videographer and sound person will meet me there prior to the interview.

I sink down on the edge of the bed. Now I have to send one more text before I can unpack, change into a T-shirt and shorts, slap on my eye mask, and hopefully fall into a deep sleep.

I open up my contacts and stop on Caleb Collings. I ignore how my heart speeds up as I see his name. I mean, I’m tired. Exhaustion is more at play here than having a stupid reaction to his name.

Yes. This is exactly what is at play here.

I type a message to him:

Hey, just wanted to let you know I’ve arrived in Italy. The Downforce Network put me up at the same resort where we’ll have our interview, so I have a lovely room to sleep in and I’m looking forward to it. I’ll check in with Catherine tomorrow to reconfirm all the details.

Then I hit send.

Caleb and I haven’t texted since Miami. In fact, all of my conversations about the interview have been with Catherine. He simply asked that I let him know once I made it to Bologna, and I told him I would.

Hmm. Maybe he’s changed his mind about being interested in me.

Like he left Miami on a high with a third-place finish and once he got on the Collings Motors private plane, he realized he had been talking crazy all week to the American content creator, and has decided to go back to having complete focus on the track.

Caleb’s only doing the interview because he’s nice and wants to help me—and he committed to it.

That’s it.

So if that’s exactly what I want, why do I feel weird about it?

Whenever I think of Caleb—and his interest in me—I get this exhilarating roller-coaster feeling inside.

It’s a mixture of excitement and danger.

It’s the thrill of someone like Caleb being interested in more than my looks.

It’s knowing he keeps himself so tightly wrapped in secrecy and mystery and he’s willing to give me a peek inside.

Just me. Nobody else.

I shouldn’t think about him outside of the interview. Caleb is—and always will be—off limits if I want a career in F1.

So there’s the danger I feel.

Because I can’t stop thinking about him.

I put my phone on the nightstand and notice a card propped up next to the lamp.

Ooh! It’s a pillow-butler service. I pick up the card and read.

If I don’t like the pillows I have, I can call guest services and have a different type brought up.

Firm, down, down alternative … whatever I need, the pillow butler will make it happen.

Okay. I might be thinking of Caleb a lot, but I have to admit, this whole pillow-butler thing is a great distraction.

Pillow butlers. Who knew that existed as a profession?

As I lay the card down next to my phone, an idea strikes me. Ooh! That would make for an interesting story. I wonder if I could interview him or her and use that as part of my travel content for my YouTube channel. I’ll ask about it tomorrow. Or whenever I wake up.

I’m about to reach over and inspect the pillows on my bed to see if I’m satisfied with the current ones dressed in crisp white cases and propped against the plush gray headboard when my phone buzzes. I glance over at it.

Caleb has messaged me back.

Despite the danger, despite reality, and despite the fact that his interest in me might very well have been left trackside in Miami, my heart jumps to life inside my chest upon seeing his name lit up on my screen. I eagerly pick up my phone and tap open his message:

Aren’t you posh? I’m in a motorhome. Practically roughing it compared to you.

I situate myself against the pillows and grin as I reply:

Something tells me your motorhome is as posh as my resort. Then again, you probably don’t have a pillow butler there. I might be winning.

My teasing aside, I know his motorhome is like a posh condo on wheels. In doing my research about the Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix, I know a lot of drivers stay in super-expensive motorhomes near the track. They have twenty-four-hour security, too.

An immediate reply comes from Caleb:

You’ve given me a new task for Catherine. Pillow butler. She’ll love you forever for this suggestion. BTW, what does a pillow butler even do?

I can’t contain my smile as I text him back:

A pillow butler apparently can make all your pillow wishes come true. Whatever pillow you want, they will make it appear. So if I despise the soft down pillows I have now? I can get a firm synthetic one. AMAZING!

Caleb Collings is typing …

This is a necessity. I’m going to have Catherine travel with at least ten to satisfy my pillow whims.

Before I can respond, another message comes through:

Get some sleep. I know you must be tired. It had to take you at least sixteen hours to get here. I’m expecting you to not only be awake tomorrow, but to ask good questions.

I text him back:

Oh, I know better than that. I must not only ask good questions, but I can’t bore you, either.

I bite my lip, waiting for his reply. Soon it drops in:

You could never bore me, Isla. Good night.

Goose bumps sweep over my skin. I stare at his words a little longer than I should, then I put down my phone and get serious about unpacking.

And trying not to think about how much I’m thinking about Caleb.

* * *

Italy is BEAUTIFUL.

Like next-level beautiful.

I breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun warm my skin as I make my way to the villa rented by The Downforce Network.

I’m being driven over by the hotel staff in a golf cart, and as we zip along the path, I study the hills around me.

They’re full of grapes and olive trees, and I listen to the sound of water splashing in a fountain as we move past it.

In two hours, I’ll be conducting an interview with Caleb that could make my career. Snippets of it will no doubt be picked up by other networks. Shared on social media over and over again. Even if The Downforce Network doesn’t offer me more work, someone else surely will.

And I know my own channels will get loads of traffic no matter what happens.

“The Olive Villa,” my driver, Enzo, says.

“Thank you for the ride,” I say, grabbing my tote bag.

“Have a good day.”

I turn and walk up the stone path to the wisteria-clad villa, thinking how picture-perfect the sun-drenched house looks with the green hills behind it.

I know from doing my research that there’s a beautiful view out back—maybe Caleb would want to sit outside for our interview.

I’ll have to ask the videographer what he or she thinks about that idea.

I reach the front door and take a moment to smooth out my skirt. Surprisingly, I’m not nervous about meeting my crew today. I don’t know why, but I feel confident about what I can do and all the preparation I put in for this.

I knock. I can hear muffled voices come closer, and then the door is opened by a young woman.

“Hello,” she says, smiling at me. “I’m Allyson, and I’m your PA for today’s shoot.”

I extend my hand to her. “Hello, I’m Isla Foley. Nice to meet you.”

As I step inside, I notice there are quite a few people milling around. I frown, as I was only expecting there to be a PA, an audio person, and a videographer.

Soon people are coming up to me, and I quickly go into focus mode to remember names as I’m being introduced.

“This is Derna, your videographer,” Allyson says. “And Melody, your A1.”

Yay! I’m kind of excited to get to work with a female videographer and audio person. It will be an all-female production!

“Isla Foley,” I say, extending my hand to each of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“We also have some people from The Downforce Network here to watch,” Allyson says.

Wait … what?

“Here, let me introduce you.” Allyson leads me farther into the villa. Soon I’m in a chic living room, surrounded by people from the network. Some I immediately recognize.

Like Craig Banton, the PRESIDENT of the network. Who is making a beeline straight toward me.

“Isla, it’s a pleasure to meet the woman who got Caleb Collings to sit down with us,” he says, clasping my hand in a firm grip. “This is unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” I say, shaking his hand and arranging a smile on my face. “I’m looking forward to having a good conversation with him.”

“This is a huge get for the network,” Craig continues.

In the background, I see lights being set up near two oversized plush chairs that are arranged to face each other. I bite my lip, as I really want to check out the logistics outside.

I turn my brain back to Craig. “I’m just glad you’ve given me the opportunity to conduct the interview on behalf of The Downforce Network.”

More people walk up, and I’m introduced to the head of advertising, representatives for public relations/social media, and the head of programming. I’m becoming both confused and alarmed as to why all these people are still here.

A woman with pink hair and inked arms approaches me. “Hi, Isla, I’m Michele, and I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the shoot. We probably should get started.”

“Go on,” Craig encourages.

“Wait, before we get started, I need to meet with Derna and Melody about where we’re going to conduct the interview.”

Craig furrows his brow. “Well, they have a place set up for you over there,” he says, pointing to the chairs I noticed earlier. “Plenty of room for you and for us to observe.”

Wait … observe?

“I’m sorry?” I ask, furrowing my brow.

“Well, yes, we’re here to observe the interview,” Craig says matter-of-factly. “It’s a huge moment for the network.”

Oh hell no.

I know I should keep professional boundaries as a young freelance reporter, but I also know I have to stand up for myself.

And for Caleb.

“I understand the interest level, but that arrangement doesn’t work for me,” I say calmly.

The room goes quiet, except for the sounds of Melody and Derna moving around furniture.

“I beg your pardon?” Craig asks.

“Caleb Collings agreed to sit down with me for a conversation. It will be hard for me to do my job—and for him to be natural—if he’s watched like an animal in a zoo. So respectfully, I have to ask for this to be a closed set. Or there will be no interview this afternoon.”