Page 51 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I sit at the desk in my hotel room. It’s a little after seven in the morning, meaning it’s a little past noon in London. I reread the email I’ve spent the last thirty minutes crafting, knowing every word I type is important.

Because this is the email I’m sending to The Downforce Network explaining my relationship with Caleb.

I’m going to send it to my assignment editors, my producer for Outside the Cockpit , and the executive producer of the entire network.

I’ve also copied my agent, who I alerted about the situation last night.

Aaron didn’t seem to think it was all bad, much to my surprise.

He thought it might actually be good for me, if the network cares to look at it from a free publicity angle.

I don’t know about that, and the idea of putting Caleb in the position of giving me “free publicity” makes me want to puke.

I shove that thought down and read the email again.

I start at the beginning, disclosing how we met and how recently we started dating.

I state that I feel it is my responsibility to disclose our status to the network to provide full transparency.

I provide my thoughts about conflict of interest, leaning into the fact that I don’t provide analysis or commentary, but rather cover fun features.

I’m not getting access to or revealing any secret information.

I emphasize my content in my Outside the Cockpit interviews and promise the same when I interview Xavier today.

I close with how my integrity matters to me, hence the disclosure, and I hope to have an open and honest dialogue about it when I get back from Montreal.

I move my finger over the send icon on my touchscreen laptop. I’m confident in what I wrote. I’m also confident that I’m right, and I’m confident in where my future lies with Caleb, even if that hasn’t been spoken between us.

Yet I notice my hand is shaking as I hover over the send key. I take a breath to steady myself. Even though I believe in every word I’ve written, it doesn’t mean my employer is going to feel the same way.

Tapping this button could be the end of my career with The Downforce Network. But it’s a risk I’m determined to take.

I hit send. It’s done.

I exhale and close my laptop. The best thing I can do now is work.

I’ll be anxious anytime my phone goes off with a notification, but I’ll feel this way until a meeting is scheduled.

I’ll text Caleb in a little bit. I know he has meetings this morning, followed by media interviews, and then a brief appearance at a sponsor lunch.

Until I got to see Caleb’s actual schedule, I had no idea how much of his time is spent on stuff other than driving.

No wonder it’s so hard for some drivers to adjust from F2 to F1.

When you’re in F2, most of your focus is on driving.

It’s not the case for F1. The drivers have so many responsibilities.

Caleb even has some of them cut because he barely participates in social media content for the team.

He does the bare minimum, and even when I watch those videos, I can sense how guarded he is.

And those are people who work for Collings Motors!

I know he’s shooting one today. They’re doing some taste test of popular food in Montreal. I told him to have fun with it. Let people see the same Caleb that he showed me during our interview.

I smile as I step into the bathroom. The scowl I received in response made me burst out laughing.

Just as I turn on the shower, my phone vibrates on the marble countertop. My stomach clenches, and I move over and pick up my phone.

The Downforce Network has replied to my email.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

With a shaking hand, I tap it open. It’s a response from the executive producer, Michael Thompson. Shit.

The reply is brief:

Isla, thank you for your transparency. Please work your assignments as scheduled this weekend. My assistant, Cassie, will schedule a meeting next week in London to discuss. Cassie, please include HR in your invite. Michael.

I swallow. I anticipated HR would be in this meeting, but seeing it in writing reminds me of how serious this situation is. But at least I haven’t been pulled off my assignments, so that’s something I can hang on to.

I get ready. This morning, I’m going to take my walk and film the beautiful mansions in this neighborhood.

I slip into a matching workout set—black Alo yoga pants and a black cropped T-shirt.

I put my hair up into a ponytail, pulling it through a black baseball cap, and head outside.

Montreal is beautiful this morning, and I enjoy my walk.

I talk about my day ahead, telling my viewers where I’m walking and the history of the Golden Square Mile.

I promote the fact that I’m going to be talking to Xavier, and this week I’m also going to explain why they scrape tires after they’re used for data.

I turn down a side street and head up a hill, pausing to shoot the beautiful mansions I’m walking past, taking in the architecture, lush green lawns, and blooming flowers.

As soon as I stop filming and turn my notifications back on, I see the meeting has been set for next Wednesday afternoon.

My stomach clenches in nervousness as I hit accept on it.

Okay. It’s done. I’m determined to put my anxiety and fears aside and knock everything out of the park this weekend for the network.

If they want to let go of me, I’m going to make it hard for them to do so.

I head back down the hill to go back to my hotel, and my phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Caleb. I stop walking so I can read his message:

Morning, Owl. I hate when you leave the nest. This bed feels lonely now. But I do have sheets again, so that’s something, I guess.

I grin. I’m notorious for rolling up sheets around me like a cocoon when I sleep, and Caleb has now experienced this first-hand.

Aw, I miss your big luxurious bed with you in it, Roo. I’m out on a walk. Just filmed some more content about Montreal. Oh, and I have a meeting scheduled with the network next Wednesday to discuss my future.

Caleb Collings is typing …

Are you okay? Do you need to talk? Do you want me to go with you?

Swoon. I love how much this man cares for me.

I text him my reply:

It means everything to me that you want to be there with me. Thank you. But this is my career. My choices. I’ve got to be the one to handle it. I will represent myself, provide a case for why they should keep me, and then see what they want to do.

Caleb replies, but this time, it’s a selfie of him with his famous scowl, and I burst out laughing right on the sidewalk.

I respond:

I love your scowl face.

Another message drops in:

My offer stands if you change your mind. I’m going to be in Monaco at the beginning of the week, but I’ll return to England early for this meeting. Just let me know, okay?

I text him that I will and tell him I’m headed to my hotel for breakfast. We agree to talk later, and I take a leisurely stroll back.

It’s interesting—F2 doesn’t run in Montreal, so I don’t have a grid walk or anything to do for them this weekend.

I have my tire feature and Xavier, and the rest of the weekend I’m free.

Buzz!

I flip my phone over and see I have a text from Catherine. We text each other quite a bit, and I love this friendship growing between us. I tap open her message to read it:

Caleb told me The Downforce Network knows. Are you okay?

I reply:

I kind of have a sick feeling in my stomach, but at least it’s done. I’m focusing on my work this weekend.

Catherine Collings is typing …

Are you planning to come to the garage this weekend?

I think about this. Yes, I’ve informed the network that I’m dating Caleb, but I don’t feel it’s appropriate to put it out for public view until I’ve had this meeting with them.

I tell her I’m going to watch practices, qualifying, and the race from the media center.

She says if I change my mind I can hang out with her, which I appreciate.

And it’s something I’ll definitely do in the future. But for now?

I live in the present. I have an interview to prepare for.

And I can’t wait to see how the bad boy of the track handles my irreverent questions this afternoon.

* * *

The setup for the Montreal Grand Prix is so unique that I can’t help but do a video about it for my social media channels as I make my way to the paddock for my interview with Xavier.

“Welcome to the Montreal Grand Prix,” I say, filming myself as I walk. “The Circuit Gilles Villeneuve is actually on Notre-Dame Island—a man-made island in the Saint Lawrence River. The track here is tough. It has challenging chicanes, a hairpin curve, two long straights—and of course, groundhogs.”

I plan to ask Xavier about the groundhogs, which have been known to make their way onto the track while the cars are on it.

I talk a little bit more about the circuit, the history of it and how it’s a great track for overtakes, and then I turn my phone off.

I’ll edit that together and put it up this evening.

I pass through security with my credential and walk into the paddock. The Hoffman motorhome is not far from Collings Motors, and it’s so weird knowing Caleb is over there doing his job while I’m over here doing mine.

But how lucky are we? We get to travel the world together and do jobs we love. If I had another career—like one that required me to be in one place—we’d rarely see each other.

I can’t even fathom that.

I agreed to meet my crew outside the Hoffman building. It’s the same group I worked with in Italy when I interviewed Caleb, so I’m happy about that. Before long, I see Melody and Derna appear, with Michele following behind.

“Hello, good to see you all,” I say cheerfully.