Page 17 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I’m shaking as I follow Caleb out into the garden, where he’s immediately fitted with a mic.

He’s willing to answer any question.

If I ask those questions, I’m guaranteed a huge following on my socials. And more than likely, regular assignments from The Downforce Network.

It’s the biggest break I will ever get. A dream interview situation that no other reporter has ever been granted.

But I won’t do it.

I test my mic, and soon I’m sitting down at a patio table overlooking a gorgeous garden in bloom. Behind the perfectly manicured box hedges, rows upon rows of grapevines can be seen in the distance.

“Mr. Collings, would you like something to drink? Water? Tea? Coffee?” Allyson asks as Michele comes over to him to do some light makeup.

“First, call me Caleb, and I would love to get a glass of water, please.”

“I’ll get that,” Allyson says, heading back into the villa.

Melody and Derna prepare for the shoot, setting up the camera, and Bethany comes over and sits next to me at the table. “I know we’ve been over this, but I’d like to go over the ground rules one more time before filming begins,” she says crisply.

I’m about to tell her that’s fine when Caleb interjects. “There are no rules today,” he says firmly.

“What?” Catherine and Bethany ask at the same time.

“No rules. I trust Isla,” he reiterates as Michele begins to powder his nose.

“But Caleb, we have protocols for interviews an—” Bethany begins.

“I said there are no rules today. I will take it up with my father if there is an issue,” he says, his voice like ice.

“Oh, and outside of the crew here, this is a closed set. You and Catherine can wait for me inside. Don’t bother arguing with me.

I know you’re trying to do your job, and I know exactly what I cannot say.

I’ll make sure it is understood at the top that I gave you no other choice. ”

With that tone, Caleb has shut Bethany down. It will be a closed set from his end, too.

She doesn’t look pleased by this change of plans.

“Bethany, I can read your mind. This is all on me. Catherine will back this up,” he says.

Catherine smiles. “I’ll say he was throwing his name around and kicked you off the set.”

Michele steps back from Caleb. “I think we’re good here.”

“Then we’re ready,” I say.

Allyson comes back outside with two mugs bearing The Downforce Network logo and places one in front of me and one in front of Caleb.

“Thank you, Allyson,” I say, smiling at her.

“Allyson? Can you escort Bethany and Catherine inside and get them something to drink?” Caleb asks.

She looks surprised but recovers quickly. “Of course.”

Catherine briefly looks at Caleb, then at me, and I see a knowing expression that I hope nobody else will notice.

They return to the villa and it’s just Caleb, the crew, and me now.

“Are we ready?” Derna asks, heading behind the camera.

“I’ll defer to you. Are you ready to get started, Caleb?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Okay, we’re rolling,” Derna says. “Whenever you’re ready, Isla.”

I pause for a moment, gathering my thoughts in my head. Then I smile brightly at the camera and talk to it like I’m talking to Hadleigh back home in Miami.

“Hello everyone, I’m Isla Foley for The Downforce Network. Today I have the biggest treat for you—and an absolute pleasure for me. I am spending some time this afternoon with Caleb Collings. Caleb, thank you so much for joining me today.”

“Thank you for having me,” he says.

I smile at him. “You normally don’t sit down for interviews. I’m glad you made an exception today. But that’s probably because this interview is going to be very different. I have very serious questions for you. Things you haven’t discussed before. Are you open to this?”

His eyes meet mine. “Nothing is off the table today. I’m ready to finally have this conversation.”

I know he means it. The red lights have just shut off. This interview is at the lights-out moment, and I’m cleared to go.

I’m going all right. But I’m not going to give him what he wants.

“Well, I’m glad you’re ready to have this conversation. I think F1 fans would like to know you better than they do now. So I’ll just go ahead and start with the first question, if that’s okay with you. It won’t be about car upgrades or anything like that. We’re going to get personal.”

“I’m ready.”

I have notecards in my lap, but I don’t really need them. “The first question. On my social channels, a lot of people comment about your hair.”

Caleb stares at me. He already knows how this interview is going to go down from my opening question, and I see a mixture of frustration and respect in those piercing blue eyes of his.

“My hair,” he repeats.

I nod enthusiastically. “Yes. So what is your hair-care routine?”

I can tell he’s working to repress a smile, but he fails. “What is yours? You have nice hair,” he counters.

“I use shampoo and conditioner, of course. I do a deep-conditioning hair mask twice a week and use a heat-styling product to protect my hair. “

Caleb runs his hand over his jaw. “Fascinating. I’ve never tried a hair mask.”

“You should. It’s amazing. But what is your hair-care routine?”

“I use shampoo, too, of course, but not just any shampoo. I get one from this boutique in Knightsbridge—Bea’s Blends. They do custom scents, and I always get the same one. Pink grapefruit.”

“Really? Why pink grapefruit?”

I can see the smile has reached his eyes. He’s relaxing now, and he’s about to—dare I think it—allow himself to have fun.

“It’s one of my favorite scents. I have that in a diffuser I travel with, too. Wakes me up. Sets the mood for the day.”

“Do you like eating grapefruit?”

He screws up his face. “No. I hate it.”

I laugh. “So you want your hair to smell like it, your hotel room to smell like it, but you hate to eat it?”

“You act like that’s weird, Isla,” Caleb says, a playful smile on his face.

For a moment, my heart flutters when I hear my name roll off his sensual lips, but I quickly force my brain away from that idea and move on to the next question. “You play paddleball with Xavier Williams at home in Monaco and when traveling. Who is the better player?”

Caleb laughs. “Me, of course.”

“There’s a lot written about your friendship with Xavier. How did you become so close to someone who is one of your biggest rivals in Formula 1?”

He leans back in his chair, stretching his long legs out before him. I smile. Caleb is one hundred percent relaxed now.

“We’ve been competing against each other since he moved to Europe to do karting when we were kids,” he explains. “We grew up together. But we didn’t become mates until we were both competing in Formula 2.”

“Why does he strip in the cooldown room?” I ask, referring to the room where the top three finishers go to cool down before the podium ceremony. It’s also where they can watch highlights of the race and comment on them for TV.

And whenever Xavier is in it, he unzips his race suit, lets it fall to his hips, and tugs his fireproof undershirt over his head.

To my surprise, Caleb bursts out laughing. “This is the weirdest interview,” he says, his eyes crinkling up in the corners in amusement.

“I heard you often get bored with media questions. I made it my mission not to be boring. So why does Xavier strip off his shirt on TV?”

Caleb takes a moment and rubs his fingertips over his lower lip as if he’s trying to hide a smile, and the move is undoing me, it’s so hot. “I think you’d have to ask him that.”

“Okay. Then let me ask a follow-up question. Why don’t you strip in the cooldown room?”

I swear he’s smirking, and it makes him hotter than he already is.

Which is freaking hot.

“Incredible discipline, of course.”

I grin. “Of course.”

I decide to move on. “There’s been lots of rumors that you don’t get on with your teammate, Mason Clark. True or false?”

“False. Mason is my teammate. I like him. But it doesn’t mean we have to be best mates.”

“Well, that would be stupid because we all know Xavier is your best mate.”

He laughs. Really laughs.

And I love the fact that I’m drawing that laughter out of him.

“But we work together to do what is best for the team, and our team principal, Alex Oliver, has made it clear that Mason is the number-one driver.”

“So nepotism isn’t exactly working out for you, is it?” I ask slyly.

Caleb stares at me in disbelief for a brief second, as if he can’t believe I just said that.

To be honest, I can’t believe that came out of my mouth, either.

Then he flashes me a grin and chuckles. “No. I have to earn the number-one driver spot from Mason. I don’t think anyone expected me to challenge for it so soon, though.”

“Did you expect to challenge for it in your second season racing for the team?”

“Yes. That was my goal. To not only help the team with points, but to show everyone I’m just as capable at competing for the podium as Mason.”

I could press him here with uncomfortable questions about playing by Collings Motors rules. I could ask about what it’s like to have to defer to what the team wants for Mason, as he had to do last season.

But I don’t. Instead, I switch gears on him once again. “What is your favorite kind of track to race on? Street or circuit?”

Caleb reaches for his water and takes a sip. “I like circuit tracks. Of course, Silverstone is my favorite.”

“The home track.”

“Yeah. I love racing at home, but I also love the track. It’s really fast, which makes it a lot of fun to drive.”

“Okay. Give me another track besides the home one.”

“I also like Spa,” he says, referring to the track in Belgium. “You never know what the weather is going to be like. It’s also set in the Ardennes Forest, which is beautiful.”

“What’s your favorite street track?”

“Monaco,” Caleb says instantly. “For the history and because it’s such a high-risk track.

You have really narrow streets to navigate.

There’s the tunnel, so you go from light to dark and back to light.

Elevation changes. And the barriers are close, so you have hardly any room for mistakes.

Now, on the downside, you can’t overtake much, so that can make it less exciting to watch. ”

As he speaks, I can see the Monaco Grand Prix in my head.

The beautiful turquoise-blue sea filled with jaw-dropping yachts.

The houses built into the hills and the mountains in the background.

The hairpin turns and cars flirting with kissing the high walls as they fly through the streets of Monte Carlo.

I could happily talk racing with him all day, but I wanted this interview to be a mix of F1 questions with completely irreverent ones, so I decide to throw another non-racing one at him, to see if I can throw him off balance.

In a good way, I think with an inward smile.

“If you had to eat a gummy candy for the rest of your life, what would it be?” I ask with a straight face.

Caleb’s expression tells me I’ve completely caught him off-guard. “I’m sorry, gummy candy?” he asks, his brows knitting together.

“Yes. For example, I love rosé gummy bears. I always have some in my bag.”

“I prefer foam sweets.”

I make a face. “That sounds gross. What even is that?”

His face lights up. “You’ve never had a foam sweet?”

“No, and I hope never to have one.”

“No, no, they’re good,” Caleb insists. “They’re fruit flavored and melt in your mouth.”

“I’m not sold on this.”

“My favorites are shrimp and bananas.”

“Ewww, shrimp ?” I shriek.

He laughs, a deep rumbling from his chest.

“No, they aren’t shrimp flavored. Shrimp looking but fruit flavored.”

“No. Hard pass.”

“We’ll have to do another interview where you try them.”

Another interview. More time with Caleb.

I might be able to choke down a foam shrimp that tastes like fruit for that opportunity.

We talk for an hour, and then I conclude the interview. As soon as the camera is shut off, Melody comes around to unhook the wireless mics and get the transmitters each of us was wearing.

Caleb remains seated as Derna takes down the camera. He clears his throat. “That was really good,” he says softly. “Thank you for that.”

“You can say it was weird,” I prompt, smiling at him.

He laughs softly. “Yeah, it was weird, but it was fun.”

I rise from my seat, and he does, too. I lead the way back into the villa, and we’re immediately greeted by Catherine and Bethany, then by The Downforce Network bigwigs.

We do the small-talk thing, and Caleb makes a point to tell my potential bosses that I was a great interviewer and he enjoyed doing it. He also assures Catherine and Bethany it went well, nothing top secret passed his lips, and he thinks he might have come across as likeable.

“You definitely did. Until you talked about foam shrimp.”

“You told her you eat foam shrimp ?” Catherine asks. “That came up?”

A mischievous glint enters his eyes. “I’ve learned with Isla to expect the unexpected. Terribly cliché, but terribly true.” Then he smiles, and happiness fills me.

Soon I’m escorting them to the door. “Thank you for giving me this interview. It means everything to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Caleb replies. Then he pauses, looking like he wants to say so much more, but can’t.

And what scares me is how badly I wish I could hear it.

“Good luck this weekend,” I say, extending my hand to him. He grasps it, and I feel sparks the second his skin touches mine.

“Thank you,” he says, releasing my hand. Then he turns to get into a waiting Collings Motors luxury SUV, pausing and saying something to Catherine before he slips inside. Bethany gets in next, but I hear Catherine call out before I’m about to step back inside the villa. “Isla!”

I turn around, and she hurries toward me. “Yes?” I ask.

She reaches into the pocket of her pants and then presses something into my hand. “From Caleb. Only I know about it. Look at it when you’re alone.” Then she hurries back to the car.

My heart gallops inside my chest. I can feel beads in my hand, like a bracelet.

I slip it into my pocket, go inside, and talk a little more.

I hear Derna and Melody praising my interview, saying it was irreverent and fun, and Caleb opened up in it.

I can tell the higher-ups are pleased. I finally take a moment to excuse myself and slip inside the bathroom.

As soon as I lock the door behind me, I pull out what I’ve been holding inside my pocket.

It’s a friendship bracelet, and my heart races when I see there’s something spelled out for me to read:

Coffee tonight?

I gasp as I see the question staring back at me.

And I find myself torn as to how I’m going to answer.