Page 25 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I’m exhausted. But so, so, SO excited.

I arrived back in Miami at two-thirty in the afternoon on Monday.

During the flight, I received emails from both my agent and The Downforce Network.

They’ve named my online show Outside the Cockpit , and it’s been green-lit for production.

If I have a top guest booked, they will also run snippets of the interview during The Gear Box , too.

When Aaron showed me the rate he negotiated for me, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. It’s more than TRIPLE anything Total Access Total Sports ever paid me.

Aaron is a great agent. But I love him for more than the fee he secured for each episode and for my social media hits.

In a private email, he asked me how I felt about building a career doing the “soft” reporting, because if I go down this route, it will be harder to do analysis and trackside reporting in the future.

He told me to think about it overnight and get back to him.

I did think about it. I know if I start building a reputation for this style of reporting, it will be very hard to change it in the future.

I thought about how I felt touring the motorhome and the garage.

Interviewing the young stars on the F2 grid.

And of course, the relaxed and silly interview I did with Caleb.

It completely fits with the brand I’ve created on social media—sharing my thoughts on F1 in a fun and welcoming way for both new fans and old. I enjoy doing it, and there’s more opportunity for me here than there is in trying to get a coveted host or analyst position in the future.

I called Aaron on Tuesday and said yes to a freelance-reporting contract. I already received it, Aaron made changes to it, and my dad read it last night and said it looked good. So I signed it and sent it back for their signature.

I’ve also received two sponsorship proposals. I don’t want my social media content to be taken over by it, so I accepted one to start, but it’s an incredible opportunity.

Emilia Wentworth-Hay—the luxury designer in London—launched a ready-to-wear line called E.

Hay. She will now supply some of my outfits for both TV and content-creation segments!

I love her clothing, and I can’t believe I will get to wear it.

She has a boutique in Monte Carlo, and I’m going to a party they are hosting on Friday night for the Monaco Grand Prix.

I will also get to film some content for my channels. I’m so excited!

But here’s the best part. The Downforce Network wants me to base out of London for work. I’m going to be living in LONDON!!! I can hardly believe it. I need to pinch myself to make sure I’m not suffering some kind of delirious fever dream or something.

I’m working this weekend in Monaco, but then I will take the next two weeks to move over to the UK, where I can base for the European part of the schedule. Aaron secured for them to provide corporate housing for me, too.

I know what this means. I’m a rising star in their eyes, and they are willing to invest in me.

Well, and let’s face it. It’s cheaper to fly me out of London than Miami, too.

I pause as I take a dress and carefully fold it so I can put it in my suitcase, as I’m getting ready to turn around and leave again.

Would they be willing to invest in me if they knew a potential romance with Caleb Collings was brewing?

Anxiety gnaws at my stomach. I know I’m leaping ahead here. Caleb and I could go on a couple of dates and then it could fizzle out. That happens.

But it’s not going to happen with Caleb, my heart whispers.

I think back on our long text conversations. The Connectivity Video Connects we’ve had.

Then there’s our date at the resort, where he made even coffee in a sterile conference room seem magical.

I sink down next to my half-packed suitcase on my bed and fight the acidic feeling swirling within me.

I’ve seen what happens when other female reporters date professional athletes.

Even when they date an athlete outside the sport they cover, there’s backlash.

They’re called unprofessional. People pick up the narrative that female reporters entered the profession to date athletes.

And it only makes my situation a million times worse that Caleb’s an F1 driver.

When I think logically about my situation—especially in light of that contract I just signed—I should walk away from Caleb now.

I should pursue my career with confidence, not spend time worrying that my reputation will be destroyed by dating a driver.

I also have the stress of having to hide this budding relationship, too.

I’m going to have to be so careful. Double checking my surroundings.

Making sure I don’t open up something on my phone in public that anyone could accidentally see or hear. No slipups in casual conversations.

The anxiety of someone discovering us makes me queasy when I think about it.

Then I think of Caleb, and I swallow down the fear. My heart is talking loudly to me, in a way it has never spoken to me before. How can I ignore that? How can I not give Caleb a chance when my gut is screaming he’s a special guy?

I might have my career, but would I see him on pit lane and wonder what if? Would I question if he was the one and I chose my career over him?

Am I making the right decision? Is following my heart the right thing to do?

If we get serious, The Downforce Network would have to be told.

What would that do to my career with them?

Would they pull assignments? Quit using me completely?

I’m only a freelance reporter, so there’s nothing binding me to them.

The doorbell rings downstairs, jarring me from my thoughts.

I’m sure it’s Hadleigh. She’s coming over for dinner tonight, so I can spend time with both her and my parents before I leave again.

She said she would see if she could leave work a bit early.

Mom will let her in, and she’ll come right up.

Hadleigh has practically grown up here, and we know each other’s houses like our own.

Soon there’s a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I call out.

The door opens, and it’s Hadleigh, but she’s carrying a huge bouquet of cream and blush-pink peonies. My jaw drops. There have to be at least fifty blooms in that massive arrangement!

Then my heart pounds against my ribs. I told Caleb peonies are my favorite flowers.

“I ran into the flower guy lugging this up the sidewalk with a forklift,” Hadleigh jokes, her eyes sparkling as she hands me the flowers.

I leap off the bed to take them from her. My hands are shaking as I retrieve the card from the lavish bouquet. I momentarily place the flowers on my nightstand and remove the card from the envelope:

I could say these flowers are congratulations for The Downforce Network, but that would be a lie. These are just because I’m thinking about you. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. X

Ooh! He’s thinking about me. I hand Hadleigh the card and let her read it.

“Oh my God, you got flowers from Caleb freaking Collings!” she yells.

I clasp my hand over her mouth. “Shh! My parents don’t know!”

She laughs. “I feel like we’re teenagers and you’re sneaking around with the bad boy. No. Wait. That would be you sneaking around with that Xavier Williams. Did you hear him on his radio?”

I shoot her a look. “You heard him on his radio?”

“He’s hot, I couldn’t resist,” Hadleigh says, tucking a lock of her long blondish-brown hair behind one ear.

“What a badass . He cussed a lot. Said his battery was running out at the end but still kept chasing Caleb—while swearing, which I have to admit I liked. And the fact that he has tattoo sleeves? So hot.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything is hotter than that close-up of Caleb drinking from that bottle of water after the race.”

I grow warm as I replay the moment in my head. Caleb is drinking water, and the cameraman got right up in his face for footage showing his piercing blue eyes and long lashes, his dark disheveled hair, the black stubble shading his jawline, and his full lips around the top of that water bottle.

It was better than the straw, and I did NOT think that was possible.

Hadleigh’s eyes light up, and I know she knows what I’m talking about. “Okay. That cameraman should be given an award for achievement in cinema for that shot! Good God!”

I burst out laughing, and she does, too.

“The Downforce Network served after that race,” I say.

“Did you see all the Connectivity Story Shares of it? And TikToks?”

I nod. I might have watched a couple of them.

Or dozens.

Suddenly there’s another knock on my door. “Come in,” I call out.

My mom appears in the doorway, and I smile when I see her. Her auburn hair is very wavy and cut in a chin-length style. She’s dressed in a matching set of yoga pants and a tank top.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, her hazel eyes sparkling at me and Hadleigh. “But I almost think you’re a mirage, Isla. I’ll blink, and tomorrow you’ll be gone.”

I shoot her a knowing smile. “It’s crazy. I never expected to be working in F1, but here I am.”

“Autumn, don’t worry, I’m here, and if you ever miss Isla and want to do some girl things, I’m all in,” Hadleigh says cheerfully.

My heart warms. Hadleigh isn’t just saying that. Her relationship with her mom isn’t the best, and she spent nearly every Friday night here when we were teens. My mom is her bonus mom, and I love that—for both of them.

“I know you are, and trust me, I will text you,” Mom says affectionately.

Then she looks at me with a mixture of sadness and pride.

“I always knew you were going to do big things, baby girl, and here you are doing them. I knew we were lucky to get you home after graduation for a bit, but now you’re going to Europe, and I have a hard time getting my head around that. ”

I feel my throat grow thick. “I know. I’m going to miss you and Dad so much.”