Page 46 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

Before running around London looking for things to make my new apartment actually feel like a home, I find myself at a table the prettiest coffee shop I’ve ever been to.

It’s in Hampstead, tucked on the bottom level of an old building on a street corner.

Sunlight streams in through the window, dancing across the tabletop and the pale wood flooring.

The morning rush is over, and there are a few people sitting at tables or in comfy, oversized tan leather chairs.

Modern lighting hangs overhead, and a mix of eclectic music is piped in through the sound system.

Beautiful pastries beckon under a sleek, modern display case, and the scent of coffee hangs in the air.

I nervously run my index finger around the edge of my large ceramic cup. My latte has a beautiful leaf design on it, and the rich scent of hazelnut, mocha, and coffee wafts up from the cup.

But I’m too anxious to drink it.

I shift my gaze to the coffee counter, where Catherine is waiting for her Earl Grey latte. I wasn’t worried about Catherine before—she was the one who encouraged me to give Caleb a chance, after all—but now, after the last text I received from her?

I wonder if she is having second thoughts about her brother dating me.

If she is, it makes me nervous. I mean, I know what I shared with Caleb last night. I trust what we have and where I think we will go.

But if Catherine—his closest confidant—has second thoughts? Doubts? Concerns?

It could change Caleb’s thoughts about pursuing a relationship.

I feel my chest grow tight at the thought.

Catherine takes her latte from the barista and makes her way toward our table next to the window.

She sets her cup down on the light wood tabletop and then pulls out the chair, taking a seat.

She smiles at me, and then a quizzical expression passes over her face.

The eyes that look identical to Caleb’s stare back at me as if she is puzzled.

“Why do you look like a horrible interrogation is about to begin?” she asks.

I decide to be honest with her. If she’s anything like Caleb, she would see through any bullshit answer as soon as it came out of my mouth anyway.

“Isn’t it?” I ask, picking up my coffee and taking a sip.

Her black brows draw together in a V. “No.”

I’m pretty sure my surprised expression matches hers.

“I know how close you are to him, and I’m sure you want to make sure I’m good enough for him.

Or dating him for the right reasons. If you think I’m trying to ‘crack the code,’ so to speak, then I feel this is more than just getting to know me, but testing me to make sure I’m really here for him. ”

Her eyes grow large in what looks like dismay. “Oh, Isla! I just meant I want to get to know you better. Truly, that’s it. I was trying to be witty. Because C—”

“Maxwell,” I interrupt. “I call him Maxwell.”

Now she looks baffled. “ Maxwell? ”

“To protect his privacy in public. So go on.”

A huge smile lights up her face, and I find the tightness in my chest unwinding.

“If I were worried, and if I were going to conduct an inquisition, I’d end it after hearing that response,” she says, pausing to take a sip of her latte.

“Really?”

“I know, you’re a reporter, you’d dig deeper, I’m sure,” Catherine says.

“But the fact that you aren’t pushing Maxwell to go forward with a hard launch—or even a soft launch or any kind of launch—says a lot.

A lot of women would. Make it known that Maxwell was their man.

Not only do you not want that, but you’re also working hard to protect his privacy, and that tells me a lot, too.

“As for cracking the code,” she continues, “I just meant you’re the only woman who has actually gotten close enough—and cared enough—to do that.”

I find myself smiling back at her. I act like I’m wiping sweat off my forehead. “Whew. I’m so relieved. I was so nervous.”

“I made you nervous?” Catherine asks, her mouth popping open in surprise. “But you’re like a complete badass!”

I chuckle at that. “I don’t know about that, but I’ve been known to stand up for myself and voice my opinion.”

“I’ve seen you be a badass. I wish I had more of that in me. Or bravery. Both, to be honest.”

I study her for a second. There’s a lot to unpack in that comment, but I resist asking for now.

“Well, you did make me nervous. You’re the person closest to him. He trusts you with everything. If you had doubts about me, he would, too.”

“No,” Catherine says firmly, shaking her head. “Ca—Maxwell, I mean. When Maxwell is locked in on something, he learns everything about it. To see if he can trust it. His car is one thing. You are another.”

The tightness in my chest evaporates with her words. Instead, a happy, warm feeling replaces it.

“I trust his judgment. He rarely opens himself up like this, so to see him do this for you? You’re different. And that’s an understatement.”

“I feel the same way about him,” I confess.

She beams at me. “That makes me so happy. Because he deserves to have more in his life than ra—his career,” she corrects.

I nod. Because I feel as if I need the same thing. I love content creation. Reporting. And doing it for F1? I thought that was all I needed to be happy.

But being with Caleb has added so much more to my life. I’ve learned there are things I never knew I needed or wanted until I got to know him.

“I saw today as an opportunity to spend time with you and get to know you more, so I can see exactly what Maxwell sees in you. And it makes him happy. He would never force us to get along, but I know it would mean a lot to him if we did.”

I think about all the effort Catherine is going to for Caleb. It’s obvious how much she loves her brother, and that means a lot to me—because Caleb means a lot to me.

“I’m so glad you asked,” I say, pausing to take a sip of my coffee. I put the cup down and smile at her. “And I’m an open book. I’ll answer any questions you have.”

She chuckles. “Maxwell warned me not to overwhelm you or ask too many questions, though. He’s very protective of you.”

“No, please, fire away. It’s nice not to be the one asking questions.”

“Oh, come on! You have to have questions for me. I can give you all the blackmail dirt on him, you know,” she says. “Like he used to wear Spiderman boxers as a little boy. And he cried when he got them because he wanted race cars.”

I laugh at the cute picture that forms in my head. “I so know what I’m getting him as a present now.”

“Do it! He can add it to the list of things he’s going to kill me for later,” Catherine declares.

I smile happily at her. I liked Catherine when I first met her. I hoped we’d continue to get on because of Caleb.

But now?

I think we’re not only going to be friends, but good ones.

We talk easily as we sip our drinks. We do a lot of “getting to know you” type questions. I talk about growing up in Florida, being an only child, and studying broadcast journalism.

“I know you have a degree in digital media,” I say.

The bright, inquisitive expression on Catherine’s face dims a little bit.

“I do,” she says, her eyes briefly shifting down to her tea.

Then she lifts her gaze and forces a smile.

“I hope to put it to good use one day. I just need an opportunity. Just one opportunity to prove I have talent, and I’m not getting the chance because of my last name. ”

“I know what it’s like. To want that one chance to prove yourself. It has to be doubly hard for you because of your last name.”

She nods. “I don’t want to take anyone’s job. I certainly don’t want a job because I went to my dad and grandpa and made them give me one. But I also know the current digital media coordinator is not good. In fact, she’s rubbish. But Arthur is rubbish, and it just kind of trickles down, you know?”

“Your brother said that, too.”

She smiles. “He’s so loyal. Trust me, he will always have your back.”

“I know he will.” I pause before asking my next question. “Would you ever consider moving to another team if an opportunity came up? Or a different sport?”

Catherine shakes her head. “No, I couldn’t imagine working for anyone but the family business,” she says discreetly.

“This lifestyle—what it is, the travel, the excitement of it—it’s addictive.

I love it. I love it so much, I’ll be a personal assistant for the time being so I can do it.

” She furrows her brow. “Does that make me pathetic?”

“What? No. You’re trading off the job right now for a lifestyle you want to live. As long as you’re happy, who cares?”

“I am happy, but I still hope to do digital media at some point.”

“Have you ever thought about creating your own opportunity?” I prompt.

“Like how? Hacking into the family business social media and taking over posting?” Then she pauses. “Hmm, that’s an inspired idea. Kidding!”

I chuckle at that. “No, I wouldn’t recommend that, but what if you started having Maxwell and his business partner do things just for you that you post on your own social media accounts? Or create a new one and feature them on it. You’ll get a crap ton of hits, and you’ll get attention.”

“Oh, Maxwell won’t do that! He hates that stuff.”

“He’d do it for you. You’ve just never asked him to.

We both know his partner would. He’s already agreed to do some stuff with me, and he knows you.

I’m sure he would do stuff if you asked him.

Remember, he was totally game for that hippity-hop race against Maxwell.

Get them to do something fun like that.”

To my surprise, a flush of pink colors the tops of Catherine’s cheeks as soon as I bring up Mason. I suddenly remember how she turned pink when Mason talked to her in the garage in Miami.

My reporter senses go off. This is interesting, I think.

“The social media team would murder me if I got Maxwell to do that after he said no to them.”

“I know! You could race Maxwell’s … co-worker!” I say, getting excited by my own idea. “Or do some other kind of challenge with him. That would be amazing.”

“His co-worker is game for anything,” she says, the pink color on her cheekbones deepening a bit.

“Then ask him. Or his best friend,” I say, thinking of Xavier. “He would do it for Maxwell if he asked him.”

A thoughtful expression flickers across her face. “Maybe you’re right, Isla.”

“I know of what I speak,” I say. “I got my opportunity because I created my own content. You should, too.”

“Maybe I should take charge of my destiny,” she says.

“It’s definitely something to think about. You have access to people. You can show them fun and interesting things. I was creating content with just video and my own thoughts. You can do so much more, Catherine.”

She quirks a brow. God, she has amazing brows. I wonder if she uses someone in London as her brow person. I might need to get a name from her because mine will need to be shaped soon.

“Wouldn’t I be stepping into your territory if I did this, though? Don’t you already create that content for your channels and The Downforce Network?”

I shake my head. “No, of course not. There are endless opportunities for content about F1. I think women should support each other in finding those opportunities, don’t you?”

“I see why Maxwell has broken his rules for you,” she says, smiling gently at me.

My stomach flips in excitement from her words. But before I can reply, she frowns.

“It’s just so stupid that you have to keep everything a secret,” she declares, her voice quiet.

“Like you two shouldn’t date just because of what you do for a living.

People are bound to date where they work.

It’s the people you spend the most time with, traveling around the world with this crazy schedule.

It makes sense to date someone within the paddock. ”

“Not everyone sees it that way,” I say slowly.

“People will think I have a conflict of interest. Or that I’m in the field merely to date a driver.

Some people will accuse me of hurting other women who want to work in motorsport because I’m with Maxwell.

That I’m building this perception that will set others back. ”

As I say the words, my stomach churns with a sick feeling. I also have to deal with The Downforce Network and what they would think about my situation—and how I’m keeping it a secret.

I push my coffee cup away. I don’t think I can drink any more right now. And I don’t want to think about the internal war between my rule-following self and my feelings for Caleb.

“I don’t agree with that,” Catherine says firmly.

“It’s so bloody stupid. Are there people who would do those things?

Of course. But that doesn’t mean everyone does.

It’s hard enough to find love, but when you do?

Are you supposed to push it aside because other people think it’s wrong?

It’s one thing if it’s a boss-employee dynamic and unfair advantages are given.

Or if you are privy to information that would help a rival, and you share it.

But if it doesn’t fall into that? Who cares?

Life is so short. If you find someone you can love, and they love you back?

If that’s what you are looking for, shouldn’t you take advantage of it? Isn’t that the most important thing?”

Her words come at a faster clip, and I can tell she’s very passionate about what she’s saying. But suddenly I understand they aren’t spoken just on behalf of me and Caleb.

I think they are also on behalf of herself.

With a jolt, I realize Catherine is talking about unspoken feelings for someone in the Collings Motors garage. Someone who would be considered a conflict of interest because of where she works and her last name if she were to pursue it.

It’s someone who caused a blush on her skin when his name was mentioned earlier. Someone who is in fierce competition with her brother this season. Not only for the Drivers’ Championship, but to retain his position as number-one driver on the Collings Motors team.

And that person is Mason Clark.