Page 53 of Lights Out (Love in the Paddock #1)

I hold my cup of coffee firmly in my hand as I walk into The Downforce Network offices, passing through the lobby that holds pictures of different kinds of race cars and drivers on the walls.

My stomach is a mess, but I have the coffee so I look like business as usual—calm, composed, so sure of myself that I even got a latte on the way into the office.

When I’m anything but sure of myself.

I’m scared. Everything could fall apart for me when Michael starts speaking. I barely slept last night, and I’m still jet-lagged from Montreal.

For a moment, I think of Montreal and feel happy. The race was a thriller—and yes, it was won by a cocksure Xavier, but Caleb had an outstanding race to get third on the podium behind Romeo, who built on his previous race and managed to grab second.

Caleb started in fifth and moved up two positions, even overtaking Mason to get that third spot.

That was touchy—they battled it out, and while the team gave them permission to “go and race,” you still don’t want to do anything that could result in an accident between yourself and your teammate.

Thank God that didn’t happen, but it was tense .

I flew back on a red-eye from Montreal, landed in London on Monday morning, and spent yesterday prepping with Aaron for this meeting.

And here I am.

I step onto the elevator with other employees and head for the third floor, where the meeting will be held in the large conference room.

When the light chimes for the third floor, sickness rocks my stomach.

I exit and wind down the same hallway I was in before when I got my first batch of assignments for Montreal.

Will this be the bookend? I walk down this hallway twice?

Once to start my career and a second time to finish it?

I reach the conference room, and the door is open. I force a smile on my face and step inside. Michael’s assistant, Cassie, is there, along with Raheem and Mira, my assignment editors here in the UK.

“Isla,” Raheem says. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I say with a confidence I’m faking. “Hello, Mira, Cassie.”

A woman rises from the table to greet me. “I’m Lydia Marchant from Human Resources. Lovely to meet you,” she says, extending her hand.

I shake it firmly as I look her in the eyes. “Lovely to meet you, too.”

I take a seat next to Cassie at the large table, putting my purse in the vacant chair to my right and setting my coffee down in front of me.

“Michael is finishing up a call,” Cassie explains. “Can I get you a fresh tea or cup of coffee? Water?”

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you,” I say. Cold air washes over me. Why are conference rooms so cold? The temperature is only adding to my nerves.

“I will let Aaron on as soon as Michael is here,” Cassie says, typing on her laptop.

“Okay.”

Then, as all good Brits do, the conversation immediately turns to the day’s weather. That we’re supposed to get rain this afternoon, it’s been so hot, blah, blah, blah. I nod in agreement, but they pretty much discuss it amongst themselves until Michael walks in.

“My apologies,” he says, shutting the door behind him. “Isla, welcome back to London. How was Montreal?”

“It was excellent, thank you,” I say.

He nods and takes a seat at the head of the very long table. “Cassie, is Aaron on?”

“I’ll put him on right now,” she says.

There’s a flat-screen TV on the wall at the other end of the table, and soon my agent appears.

“Aaron, thank you for joining us,” Michael says. “I know it’s very early in Chicago.”

“My pleasure, Michael.”

There’s a brief pause. It makes me want to vomit all over the table. Will this go well for me? Or will it be awful? I have to talk about my personal life with my bosses—it doesn’t get more humiliating than that.

They could make me feel like I’m doing something wrong. Taboo, even. Their opinions of me could completely change based on their belief systems.

In this brief pause, though, something hits me.

The old me, the rules Isla, would never have taken this leap for Caleb. He was out of bounds. Against the unspoken rules. I couldn’t have a career in motorsport if I had him.

But meeting Caleb changed me. Not everything is black and white, no matter how much we want it to be. Some people are worth risks.

I took the leap for him. For love.

How can I regret that? Or be ashamed of it? As long as I can’t influence anything with my reporting, I don’t see how it’s wrong.

It’s a hill I’m willing to die on. And I’m ready to do it.

“I think we can get started,” Michael says, reaching for the cup of tea Cassie has placed in front of him. “We’re all here today at your request, Isla. Would you get us up to speed on your situation?”

Here we go. My words matter, as does my body language and expression. My career hinges on whether I can get this right and whether I can convince everyone that there is no conflict of interest when it comes to Caleb.

“I met Caleb Collings when I was assigned to do a tour of the Collings Motors motorhome for the Miami Grand Prix,” I begin.

“A member of the Collings Motors communications team was supposed to give me the tour, but after he said some sexist things about female reporters, and felt compelled to add mansplaining to the mix, I told him I didn’t find his commentary acceptable. ”

I’m met with wide eyes around the table. I continue. “Caleb was there. He said the comments had no place at Collings Motors and reported the incident to their HR.”

“Did you report this to us?” Lydia asks.

“I reported it to my assignment editor. But I felt that Collings Motors would handle it appropriately. And I still got the interview I wanted.”

“With Caleb Collings,” Michael says, taking another sip of his tea.

“Yes. Caleb wanted to give me the tour after that.”

“You also received subsequent interviews from Caleb. Was there anything promised in exchange for those interviews?” Lydia asks.

“No. I’m not going to lie. Caleb expressed an interest in me right away, but I told him I couldn’t date a driver.

I was determined to do what was expected of me, and to keep that a firm line that I would never cross.

I made it clear I would not do any interviews if there was an exchange in mind.

And there wasn’t. I did not agree to have a date with him until after the interview at Imola. ”

“Would Caleb have given you those interviews if he didn’t think he could potentially date you?” Lydia presses.

“I never guaranteed him anything,” I reaffirm.

“So why did you decide to date him, if you had this professional boundary in mind?” Michael asks.

I don’t hesitate in my answer. Nobody knows this part of what I planned to say. Not Aaron. Not Hadleigh or my parents. Not even Caleb. I kept it to myself.

I wanted this to be all mine to say, with nobody telling me to cut it or change it. Another way I’m breaking a personal rule of keeping the details of my relationship private.

But I’m doing it for all the right reasons.

“First of all, I’m finding a niche for myself in feature stories about the inner workings of the sport.

Like how a steering wheel works or scraping a tire for data.

Outside the Cockpit is being built around light racing questions, with more irreverent ones to bring out a more personal side of the drivers.

That is where my career is headed, Michael.

It works with my social media platform, which is why you all hired me in the first place.

My channels blew up with the way I talked about F1, and you want that audience.

I have no desire to change that. I don’t want to do trackside analysis or commentary.

Now, if you want me to comment on what the drivers are wearing as they enter the paddock?

That’s in my wheelhouse. But asking me to get the scoop on the next driver to leave Drago?

That’s not the kind of reporting I want to do.

Nor is that the kind of reporting you hired me to do. ”

So far, I’m met with poker faces. My heart is beating in overdrive now, but I ignore it and continue.

“I was never looking to date an F1 driver,” I say firmly.

“But I was looking to date someone exceptional. I wanted someone who listened to me. Supported me. Made me laugh. Who would help me grow. I found all of that with Caleb. And he just happens to drive for Collings Motors for a living.”

I’m met with silence.

“If I didn’t see this going somewhere, I never would have taken the risk.

This is my dream job, Michael. I never knew if I’d get a chance to cover Formula 1.

It seemed like a long shot. I created content on social media as a small way of making that dream a reality.

I’ve tapped into something that people like.

You’ve given me the opportunity to bring that content to a whole new audience, and believe me, I’m beyond grateful for it.

So do you think I would casually risk it for a romance with a driver if I didn’t truly believe in it?

“Caleb and I are professionals,” I continue. “I will do my job, and he will do his. Based on the type of content I want to cover, I don’t see this being an issue with the teams.”

“What about social media backlash?” Michael asks.

Aaron chimes in at this point. “Isla is fully aware of those consequences. There will be a lot of publicity. A lot of it bad. But lots of talk about your network, which is never bad.”

“Do you truly understand what this means, though? How this is a bigger stage than anything you’ve ever covered before?” Michael presses.

For a flickering moment, I think of Caleb and how this digs up a painful past for him.

But I also know what he said to me and what he promised.

He’s going to get Jason’s help to work through his feelings.

And I remember my promise to protect him as much as I can and give him what he needs to get used to this idea.