Page 15 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

Craig stares at me in shock.

Actually, everyone is staring at me. Even Melody and Derna have stopped to watch and see what happens next.

Apparently, nobody expected the young freelance reporter to have issues with the president of the freaking network on her third assignment.

Well, they thought wrong.

“I’m a direct person,” I say. “If you insist on watching Caleb’s interview, I can tell you right now he’s going to turn around and walk out.

And I will walk out alongside him. There’s a reason he hasn’t agreed to a sit-down interview with any reporter.

He doesn’t trust the media. But he does trust me.

I’ve promised him a light-hearted interview, a way for the audience to get to see a different side of him.

If Caleb doesn’t walk out at seeing you all gathered around, I can practically guarantee you it will be a shitty interview if he stays. ”

“You have some balls to make demands like this,” Craig says, his expression neutral. “You’re young. I believe prior to the Miami Grand Prix, you were covering pickleball for Total Access Total Sports.”

He’s testing me. Reminding me of where I am on the totem pole.

Which would be the bottom.

Well, I might be on the bottom, but I have the one thing Craig can’t get without my help.

Caleb Collings.

“Yes, I was covering pickleball,” I respond.

“And prior to that, high school sports. I’m proud of the work I’ve done for Total Access Total Sports, but also for The Downforce Network at the Miami Grand Prix, where I secured your first feature with Caleb Collings.

The Vipera team has welcomed me back to shoot more features.

I know I can get Mason Clark for an interview, and I’m pretty sure I can get Xavier Williams, too.

If you want to label me difficult for trying to get you the best interviews possible, I’m fine with that.

Because if you don’t want a closed set, I’ll just put my interview with Caleb up on my YouTube channel and post segments on TikTok and Connectivity.

I’ll leave that decision to your discretion, Craig. So what would you like me to do?”

Craig stares at me. He is still taken aback, but I see something else in his eyes.

Respect.

“You’re rather fearless, aren’t you?” he finally says.

“I wouldn’t say fearless. I just know the reputation I want to build.

I want to be known as a reporter who is true to her word.

I will stand up for my journalistic integrity, even if that means losing an assignment.

Or my shot with a network. My dream is to work for your network.

But it won’t be at the expense of my word.

Word travels fast in a paddock, Craig. And I won’t have my reputation ruined because I went back on it. ”

He continues to study me, and the villa remains eerily quiet.

“I’ve never had a conversation like this with a young reporter,” Craig finally says, folding his arms across his chest. “You’re impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“And if you need a closed set, you’ll have it.”

I can’t contain the smile from spreading across my face. “Thank you. I promise you, it’s for the best.”

“I expect this to be good, Isla.”

“As long as your expectations are for a fun, relaxed interview with one of the most mysterious personalities in Formula 1, you will get a good interview.”

Craig appears to be appraising me again. “You not only have balls, you’re confident,” he says. Then he smiles at me. “I like that.”

I thank him again, and then I excuse myself to go over to Melody and Derna. “Can we check out the logistics for an outdoor interview?” I ask. “It’s beautiful outside, and if there’s enough light in the garden, I’d love to talk to Caleb there.”

Derna nods. “There’s a gorgeous garden. If that’s what you want, I can set up there.”

“Yes, thank you,” I say. “I appreciate your extra effort on this.”

Then I go upstairs to get my hair and makeup done. As I sit in the chair, I glance down at my iPad, reviewing the questions I plan to ask Caleb this afternoon.

“I can’t get over this,” I say to Michele, watching as she clamps down on a lock of my hair with a flat iron. “I’ve always had to do my hair and makeup myself.”

“Oh, you’re getting the A-team treatment today,” she says with a smile. “Do you want me to cover up your freckles?”

I blink. “No. Why?”

“Oh no, I think they’re beautiful, but sometimes talent want them covered up.”

I stare back at my reflection, studying the smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks. My mom raised me to be proud of them. Taught me that I was given something unique and special, just like my red hair, too.

“I would like them to be visible, please,” I say. “It goes with the theme of being true to myself.”

I meet Michele’s gaze in the mirror, and she smiles in approval at me. “I can do that,” she says. “I’m thinking a soft brown palette for your eyes, a matte rose for your lips, and pop of rose-toned blush on the cheeks.”

“I put myself in your hands,” I say cheerfully.

I go back to reading my questions, and I have to repress laughter from bubbling up within me.

I wonder what Craig would think of the questions I have in store for Caleb today.

I warned him that this is going to be a fun interview—not hard-hitting.

There will be no opening of the Pandora’s box that is his family’s past.

Rather, I want to know his favorite condiments.

I repress the urge to laugh with abandon. Hopefully, Craig won’t regret paying for my trip to Italy and my talent fees to find out if Caleb prefers mustard over ketchup.

The rest of my prep time goes by in a blur.

Makeup and hair are done. I double-check my outfit, and Allyson helps me steam out my pants to get rid of the wrinkles I collected during my ride over to the villa.

I go outside, test to make sure I’ll be able to see Caleb without having to squint into the sun—yep, it’s all good, so it’s a go—and the wireless mic transmitter is fitted to the waistband of my white full-legged pants, with the mic placed discreetly on my sleeveless black asymmetric top.

The bigwigs are all still hanging around the villa—UGH—but at least I can safely escort Caleb out to the garden and then shut them out. Butterflies begin to form in my stomach, as it’s about fifteen minutes before Caleb is due to arrive.

I have such high hopes for this interview.

We get on so well whenever we talk, there’s no reason to think that a sit-down interview between the two of us will be any different.

All I want is for this to lead to more freelance opportunities for me, and to help Caleb feel more comfortable doing things for the media.

Then it hits me.

For most reporters, landing an interview with Caleb Collings would be all they’d think about. How it could impact their career, the types of hits it would get online, ratings, all those things.

There would be no other thoughts to it.

But here I am, also thinking about how it could possibly help Caleb, too.

It means you’re a nice person and not a narcissist , I tell myself.

And it means you are interested in Caleb beyond a professional capacity, you liar.

I steel myself. Both things can be true at once. I’ll just never act on any feeling I get for Caleb, that’s all.

He’s an F1 driver from a racing dynasty.

I’m trying to carve out a career in F1.

And all my big speeches about honesty and journalistic integrity mean absolutely nothing if I allow myself to act on this crush I’m developing.

My phone buzzes in my hand. I flip it over and see I have a text from Catherine:

We are on our way to the villa. See you in a few.

Right on cue, my stomach flips upside down in anticipation.

I go straight to Allyson. “Caleb is on his way. He’ll be arriving with his sister, Catherine, and Bethany Rossi, the chief communications officer for Collings Motors.”

Craig hears this, and soon he and every other person in this villa is buzzing. I want to roll my eyes. So many jock-sniffers. Crude, but it’s the truth. They’re all hanging out here just to get a glimpse of Caleb.

Soon I hear a car coming up the drive, and I stand by in the living area. There’s a knock on the door, and adrenaline floods my body. I’m about to do the biggest interview I might ever have, and I’m ready for the opportunity.

I swallow. I’m also ready to see Caleb again.

Allyson pulls open the door, and it’s as if time is standing still. I hear Catherine’s voice, and she steps into the doorway first. Next, Allyson is introduced to Bethany, and I bite back a smile as I see her.

They were smart enough not to send Arthur as the communications rep , I think wryly.

It’s also intriguing that Caleb doesn’t use a publicist. Catherine and the media team at Collings Motors handle all his inquiries.

My gut tells me it’s because he doesn’t trust anyone outside of Catherine—or the family business—to have his best interests at heart.

Then I see him.

Caleb steps through the doorway, and my breath catches in my throat. He smiles politely at Allyson, but then his gaze abruptly shifts to the hallway. When he sees me, his eyes meet mine, and I swear the air leaves my body.

Today he’s not dressed in a Collings Motors shirt and team baseball cap, like he is for the drivers’ press conferences.

He’s in clothing of his own choosing this afternoon.

I allow myself to drink him in. Caleb is wearing a white T-shirt with a black suede overshirt thrown over the top, and a pair of dark designer jeans.

His fashion is spectacular. I mean, I know that from watching his paddock fits since last season, but seeing it up close?

It only makes him more gorgeous.

Sexy.

HOT.

I snap myself into action, putting those thoughts aside, and walk up to meet Catherine, who introduces me to Bethany.

Then I turn to face Caleb, and my heart flutters like mad inside my chest. That or I’m having a stroke.