Page 47 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

Buzz!

I pull out my phone and see Caleb has sent me a selfie onboard the Collings Motors private jet with a message:

Taking off soon. See you for dinner tonight in Montreal. X

I feel a big smile spreading across my face as I stare back at his image. He’s dressed in a white T-shirt and wearing a backward black baseball cap.

He’s so beautiful. And Caleb’s intelligent, thoughtful, funny, caring, brave, fierce, determined, fearless, sweet … and he’s all mine.

I’m a lucky, lucky girl.

I text him back:

I can’t wait. Have a good flight. Sitting at the gate now, will not board for more than two hours though. X

Caleb Collings is typing …

Selfie, please. I need to see your gorgeous face.

Goose bumps prickle my skin. I’m so falling for this man.

I take a selfie and send it to him. Then I think about where things have gone since the break between the F1 rounds in Spain and Montreal.

Caleb stayed in England the entire two weeks so we could spend more time together.

I went to his penthouse for our dates since it was easier for me to get around without being recognized, and I could use private entrances into his building.

I still had anxiety doing it—this big fear hanging over my head, causing my palms to sweat and my heart to race—that someone might see me.

Or snap a picture and try to link me to Caleb.

It’s so stressful. I’ve never experienced stress like this.

But once I reached the safety of Caleb’s penthouse, with him opening the door to greet me and pull me into his arms?

I forgot the stress and thanked God this man is mine.

We made dinner together. Ordered a lot of takeout—or takeaway, as Caleb calls it. Watched TV. Spent hours talking and laughing together. We discussed the world around us. How we thought about current events and issues. Listened to each other when we didn’t quite see things the same way.

I’ve never talked with any man like that.

It’s energizing, that’s the best way I can describe it.

We have this chemistry together, whether we’re making breakfast or discussing international events.

I love our conversations. I appreciate how thoughtful and intelligent Caleb is, about so much more than racing, and I know he values the same thing in me.

He wanted to know more about my life, too.

He asked what it was like to go to college, which is something he never did.

Caleb didn’t have a normal childhood—he’s been racing since he was a little boy, starting with karting—and he wanted to know all about my experiences, too.

What it’s like to be an only child and have parents who have always had a steady relationship.

I asked him how he could be in a sport that causes him to put his life on the line every time he goes behind the wheel—and he said he doesn’t think of it that way.

He loves being on the edge. The speed. The challenge of driving an F1 car.

And, of course, the competition.

But most of all? He’s passionate about it. His passion for racing is what drives him, and he can’t imagine doing anything else right now.

There’s one topic I haven’t shared with Caleb.

I still haven’t told Caleb what my parents said about him—their concerns, their feeling I’m jeopardizing way too much to be with him—but after these past two weeks? Knowing how I’m falling in love with him?

That is a conversation I have to have with him.

I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.

I didn’t see the need to bring it up before—I mean, how weird would that have been?

Like, “Hey, Caleb, I know we’ve had like one date and all, but my parents are already thinking I’m throwing my whole career in the trash for you, what do you think about that? ”

Things are different now, though. We’ve had deep conversations. Shared things that we haven’t shared with other people.

And we’ve had sex.

I smile to myself. A lot of sex, to be honest.

We’ve been open and vulnerable—both emotionally and physically—and I think it’s time to share this with him.

So we have to have that conversation, and there’s one more to come.

It’s the one dark cloud that seems to be looming in the background over us.

Like there’s an inevitable storm that is destined to come our way, and we’re just here in the sunshine, watching as it approaches from a distance.

It’s the kind of storm that isn’t going to go away.

It’s going to roll right over the top of us.

It will not only rain but pour.

Just like I will have to face The Downforce Network and confess I’m in a relationship with a driver.

I take a breath and exhale, trying to get rid of the unsettling feeling that is creeping into my joyful, happy space.

The Downforce Network could cut me. The public will have their commentary, painting me with whatever brush they think fits.

I’m just in a place where my career is taking off.

My social media channels are growing at a rapid rate.

I have the E. Hay sponsorship. I went to a fitting last week at their headquarters and have a whole suitcase full of beautiful outfits to wear this week.

There are more sponsorships on the horizon, too.

But all of that could slip away because I had the nerve to fall for an F1 driver.

I glance over at the monitor behind the check-in counter, with departure for Montreal advertised on the screen.

This week, I’m doing tire scraping with the Hoffman team, which will be a fun and informative feature.

I also have an interview lined up with Xavier Williams that I’m going to shoot on Wednesday afternoon.

I’m super excited about that. I think that will be another milestone moment in my career.

I’m also going to create some content for my channels showing Montreal and behind-the-scenes stuff, too.

I love my new life. I love my job. I’m traveling the world covering freaking Formula 1. It’s a dream come true. I also have the excitement of moving not only to a new city, but a new country.

I think about Hadleigh, who seems so stuck in her life, and I know how lucky I am.

Yet I know I could lose all of this because of the man I’m falling in love with.

It scares me. But it’s also frustrating. Catherine wasn’t wrong in what she said in Hampstead that day. I’m not reporting on anything that would be a conflict of interest. I’m interviewing other drivers for Outside the Cockpit and the rest of my work is informational or for F2.

But I know I could still be terminated for it.

I take a sip of my latte. I have to come clean. It’s the one thing that is gnawing at me—when I allow my brain to think about it for more than a second.

Prior to Caleb, I couldn’t imagine being in this position. I would never have entertained dating a driver—or any athlete. I swallow hard. Truth be told, I would have probably judged another reporter for doing what I’m doing.

Dad always told me I would reshape my opinions on things as I grew and had life experiences. He was right. The old me had a very narrow scope as far as my career was concerned, and I’ve learned not everything is simple or black and white.

Sometimes there’s gray.

And I happen to be falling in love with that color.

But when to come clean? I keep trying to work this out in my head, and I can’t find a great answer.

Would Caleb freak out if I said I wanted to go to them now?

Think I was rushing things? It would just be going to the network—nobody else.

I don’t have plans to start seeing him in public yet or walking into the paddock with him like other F1 wives and girlfriends do.

But I would feel better if The Downforce Network knew.

It would take the guilt that is weighing on me away, and even if they cut me, at least I would know where I stood.

Granted, if they did drop me, there goes my apartment in London and my job. I don’t know where I’d go or end up. Would I have to go back to Miami?

That thought makes me sick. It would devastate me.

But keeping this a secret is starting to make me feel worse, and the stress of trying to hide everything is growing harder every time I go out.

I’ll talk to Caleb about it tonight, I think with determination.

A message drops in from Catherine:

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA you should have seen the goofy smile on his face when you sent him that selfie! He’s CRAZY about you.

My heart skips happily inside my chest. It just reminds me again of how lucky I am to have found him. A man who wants to see my face before he leaves on a flight, and even an airport selfie from me can make him smile.

I’m so lucky Caleb not only saw something in me but was determined to pursue it.

What we have is worth the risk .

And I will tell him tonight that I think we should take that next step forward by disclosing our relationship to The Downforce Network.

* * *

I love the Golden Square Mile area of Montreal.

I’m sitting in the back of a taxi, with my eyes peeled to the scenery around me.

I didn’t know much about Montreal before this trip—I did my research so I could create some interesting pieces for my channels—but the old architecture of this area is spectacular.

There’s the St. Patrick’s Basilica, which held its first mass in 1847, and McGill University, including its arts building that was finished in 1843.

Wherever I look, I see an old piece of the past alongside a luxury boutique or modern high-end hotel. Lots of Victorian-era mansions are set in the hills, as the neighborhood is built at the foot of Mount Royal. The mountain is lush and green, and a beautiful backdrop for the city.

I’ve noticed the side streets are on small hills, and they would be great for a morning walk for exercise. I’m going to do a “walk with me” video tomorrow, and I want to capture some of these historic mansions as I go up and down the streets.

The driver pulls up to the luxury hotel I’m staying at, and I eagerly pop out of the car. I stare up at the building, the sun glittering off the glass, and smile. It’s supposed to be overcast tomorrow, with a chance of rain on qualifying day. So tomorrow will be a good day to shoot.

Especially for the outdoor shoot I have scheduled in the paddock with Xavier, too.

A bellhop rushes up to me to get my bags, and I step inside the chic hotel, heading straight to the front desk.

“I should have a package,” I say after I’ve been checked in. Caleb was supposed to send over a key card to his penthouse suite at another Montreal hotel.

“Yes, Ms. Foley,” the clerk says. “Let me get that for you.”

She leaves to retrieve it, and I take a moment to check my messages. I don’t have a lot of time before dinner with Caleb. Enough time to take a shower and put on a fresh outfit. I should be tired from the seven-hour flight and the time change, but I find myself energized by being in a new country.

And from the idea of seeing Caleb tonight.

The desk clerk returns with an envelope for me. I notice it’s bulky, and I can tell there’s something more than a key card in there.

“Thank you,” I say, taking it from her. I cut across the marble lobby floor, past the lush seating arrangements in a plum color scheme, and grab an elevator going up to the eleventh floor.

I enter my room, which is very nice, and immediately tear open the package from Caleb.

Three things tumble out: a key card in a holder with his room number, a note, and another friendship bracelet.

My heart leaps when I see the bracelet. I pick it up and find it has one unique silver charm in the middle of the beads.

An owl. My favorite animal.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I quickly pick up the note and read it:

Isla,

I think my nickname for you is going to be Owl. Welcome to Montreal. Can’t wait to see you tonight. X

A thrill rushes through me. Caleb remembered. He remembered I said the owl is my favorite animal on our conference room date.

And now he’s given me a bracelet with one on it.

Even though I’m going to take it off in a minute to take a shower, I slip it over my wrist, placing it next to the first friendship bracelet Caleb made me.

I smile down at them.

With this bracelet, Caleb has earned more of my heart. I’m one hundred percent falling in love with this man.

It also makes me more determined than ever to disclose our relationship to The Downforce Network.

And I’m going to insist to Caleb that we do just that when I see him tonight.