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What is your biggest flaw? What does it say about you?

This one is almost too easy. I’m a perfectionist. Some people might call that an asset. I know for a fact my perfectionism got me to Formula One. It is a sport built on the slimmest of margins—fractions of a second between you and a competitor, inches between you and a fiery crash. Working hard to eradicate mistakes and eliminate those margins made me a good driver. The only problem is that real life isn’t like that, and I sometimes have a hard time switching gears (ha).

Mum has had a tough few days. Not that I thought she and Dad would be here for the race today, but I don’t like knowing they are at home dealing with something far more important than racing, and I have work to attend to. I did well in qualifying yesterday. P6. A podium finish is within reach. And I feel like I can taste it.

This race means so much. Almost too much. My home country. The GP I’ve attended so many times with my dad. Oscar and Freya are here. So that’s nice. And Mia, of course. She flies home tomorrow and we’re continuing this charade where we pretend like we hardly know each other. I only see her in the motorhome.

It feels wrong. It weighs on me. But life isn’t perfect, right? I need to remember that .

“B loody hell. It’s true. It’s official.” Freya, sitting on one of the bench seats in the motorhome, swiped away at her phone. “Florian and Emma really are no more, already.”

“Is there confirmation?” Mia asked, sitting across from her.

Freya handed over her phone. “Emma issued a statement.”

Mia read, then returned the device to Freya, shaking her head. “That poor woman. She couldn’t handle the pressure. She said it. The press followed her everywhere while she was in England this week.”

“They were together a sum total of ten days.” Freya sighed.

“Which is like five years for a nonfamous couple,” Mia added.

“RIP Flemma. My sister might never be the same,” Oscar quipped.

Mia slid a glance in Xander’s direction. “If Emma Taylor-Ross can’t handle the pressure of the media microscope, who can? She’s a huge actress. Her face is on the side of buses. She’s used to having her life revealed for all to see.”

“Everyone is different.” Xander closed up his journal and ducked back into the bedroom to stow it. Writing down his feelings might have helped him today. Sure, it had stirred up a whole lot of the things on his mind, but it also allowed him to offload his thoughts so he could focus on the race. Huh. Perhaps Mia had been right all along.

“Freya and Oscar, I love you both, but I need a private moment with Mia and then I need to go to work.”

Oscar sprang from his seat and saluted. “Right-o. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“Apparently, our brother needs a good-luck snog for the road.” Freya looped her cross-body bag over her head.

“Brilliant. Then go on.” With a nod, Xander shooed them out.

“We’re going, we’re going.” Freya dutifully followed Oscar down the stairs and outside, punctuating her exit with a slam of the door.

Mia immediately gripped Xander’s shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “Is everything okay with you? You seem preoccupied. You’re going to do great today. You know that, right?”

“Freya was driving me barmy with her nonstop talk about Flemma.” He took a deep breath and let himself get lost in Mia’s eyes for a moment. Just like the journal, she helped him smooth off his ragged edges. She was his respite. Always there for him. Always supportive.

“Think of it this way. The situation with Florian and Emma is confirmation that we made the right decision by not being public. It would open a can of worms that would end up being nothing but a distraction for you. Now you can focus on your race.”

Again, she was right, but he still didn’t like it. Every other driver who had a partner could stroll through the paddock with them hand in hand. Mia wasn’t a world-famous actress like Emma. Yes, she was building a name for herself within the sport, but would anyone even care after the first day or so?

Then again, he and Mia still hadn’t pinned a label on their relationship beyond admitting that they liked each other. He only knew his feelings for her were strong. The L-word was a persistent presence in his head. But he was okay with going fast and Mia had been clear many times—she had to take things slow.

“You’re right. This allows me to focus on the race. No drama.”

“Just focus on the flow of it. The way you feel when you and Charles are working well together. Visualize that. Looking ahead to a big finish. You qualified great. Now just finish the job.”

“Another P6, though. It’s not enough. It just isn’t. Not for me.”

Just like being friends with Mia wasn’t enough, either. But this wasn’t the time to talk about it. Perhaps they’d have some time after the race and before he took her to the airport.

Mia pulled him into a hug and reassuringly patted his back. “You qualified ahead of Dirk. Again. And don’t think about where you’re starting. Think about where you want to go.”

He drew in another deep breath, trying hard not to think about her leaving tomorrow. He’d have no more of this.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

Mia released her hold on Xander and he gave her a kiss. The instant it was over, he knew one indisputable fact—what they had was amazing, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re going to kill it today,” she said. “I can feel it.”

“I’ll see you after the race. Have fun with Freya and Oscar.”

Mia smiled. “I will. See you soon.”

And just like that, she grabbed her bag and was gone.

Xander waited a few minutes before he left, then met up with Isabel at the motorhome entrance.

“How are we doing today?” she asked, handing him a Mega Racing umbrella. Along with things like wearing headphones, an umbrella was a good way to tell any passersby not to bother him. He didn’t have the mental bandwidth for chitchat, autographs, or selfies. It was time for work.

“Ready to get to it.” Xander raised the umbrella above his head.

“Perfect.”

Isabel was his eyes and ears as they moved through the crowded paddock, and Xander kept his sights on the ground so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. He bid a silent goodbye to her with a wave, then lowered the umbrella and ducked into the Mega garage. It was a bustle of activity, per usual, and once again, Dirk wore a scowl.

“Good luck today,” Xander said, wanting to keep things cordial.

“I don’t need your encouragement,” Dirk said.

Xander supposed he could understand Dirk’s response since Xander had done better than him in qualifying. But Xander was so tired of this dynamic. Dirk wanted there to be a war between them, but Xander deserved a say in this, too. He’d had enough of the acrimony. It was time to mix things up.

“Dirk, did you know you were my favorite driver when I was a kid?”

Several mechanics took notice with bugged eyes and looks of pure shock.

“Are you making a joke about my age? I’m not old.” Dirk slapped his rock-hard belly with his open palm. “I’ve never been in better shape. I could kick your ass if I had to.”

Xander stepped closer, realizing that the Dirk he’d once idolized and the real Dirk were not the same people. And as much as he wanted to be on a team built on harmony and cooperation, that might not be in the cards.

“It’s not a joke. My dad brought me to Silverstone when I was a kid and we waited hours to see you. You signed a photo for me. I still have it at home. I keep it in my garage with my car gear. I can text you a picture of it sometime if you want.”

“You’re not as good at these mind games as you think you are.” Dirk pulled his balaclava over his head.

Xander let out a snort, then grabbed his helmet. He’d tried. That might be as much closure as he would ever get. The things he’d written in his journal that morning came to mind—real life wasn’t perfect. Nor was his relationship with Dirk, apparently.

“Like I said, Dirk, good luck.”

* * *

Mia, Freya and Oscar had scouted out the ideal spot on the paddock club viewing balcony, high above the pit lane and right over the Mega team garage with a perfect view of the starting grid.

“I’ve never watched from up here before,” Oscar said.

“We usually get to be in the garage. With headphones. Listening to the team radio,” Freya added.

Mia realized they were enduring lesser accommodations because of her. “I’m sorry if this isn’t as good of a seat.”

Oscar shook his head. “I think I like it better from up here. You can see more.”

Freya slung her arm over Mia’s shoulder. “Plus, we get to hang out with you.”

Mia smiled and returned the half hug. She truly adored Freya and Oscar. She’d only known them a short time, but they were so much fun to be around, just like their brother.

“It’s really nice to have company. I’ve had to watch the last few races by myself. This is way better.”

Off to the side, something caught Mia’s eye. She turned to see a figure just inside the club. She lowered her sunglasses and squinted. Reginald Huff was looking right at her. He raised his camera. And took a picture of her and Freya. Mia dropped her arm from Freya’s shoulder and took a step in his direction, but the balcony was already quite full. In a flash, he turned and disappeared.

“Well, fuck,” Mia said, worried.

“What’s wrong?” Freya asked.

Mia choked back a grumble. She didn’t like being so paranoid about Reginald, but something told her she needed to keep up her guard. “Nothing. Just someone I don’t like.”

Below them came the rumble of car engines readying to head out, a sound that always sent ripples of excitement through her. She’d worry about Reginald Huff later.

* * *

Xander finished the formation lap and was about to take his spot on the grid when the sky went dark. His pulse picked up and he immediately hopped on the radio.

“Is there rain in the forecast? I thought we were expecting dry conditions. Has that changed?”

He didn’t want to sound too excited, but he was thrilled at the prospect. Xander loved to race in the rain.

“There are a few cells moving through the area,” his race engineer said. “Nothing significant. But I’ll keep you posted if it looks like anything will change.”

Xander pulled into his P6 position and looked skyward. He made a little wish to the weather gods for things to go his way. The first light went on. The second. Third. Fourth. Fifth. Then out.

Xander got away as cleanly as he possibly could.

* * *

“Does anyone else feel like it might rain?” Mia asked after the twentieth lap. Xander was up one place, which was great news, but it was an otherwise uneventful race.

Oscar shook his head. “Nah. This is just English weather.”

Freya sighed. “I wish something exciting would happen. Like a crash.”

“Freya! Careful what you wish for,” Oscar snapped. “What if it was Xander who crashed? That would be horrible. Mum was worried sick after he spun out in Monaco.”

Mia couldn’t even say anything. She was terrified she might speak something bad into existence.

“I wasn’t suggesting that.” Freya gently hit Oscar’s shoulder with the back of her hand. “But I can’t help it. I like excitement.”

“All I care about is Xander finishing this race in one piece,” Oscar said.

“Me, too, Oscar. Me, too,” Mia added with a heavy sigh.

* * *

By the fortieth lap, Xander knew it was going to rain. The wind had shifted. The sky had yet again grown darker.

“What’s the latest with the weather?” he asked over the radio.

“Radar still looks relatively clear despite the cloud cover.”

Xander wasn’t convinced. Call it his gut or intuition, he had a feeling something was about to change.

“I don’t totally trust the radar. Please alert the crew about a possible late change to inters. If it starts to rain, I’m coming in right away to switch tires.”

“We’ll have to talk about that, Xander. Even if we do get some rain, there are only twelve laps to go. You risk losing position with another stop.”

All Xander could think about was how he’d played it safe in Austria and lived to regret it. “Just prepare, okay? If it doesn’t work, I’ll take the heat.”

* * *

Mia felt a raindrop on her nose. She directed her gaze skyward. Another drop, this one fatter and on her upper lip. “It’s raining.”

She looked out on the horizon. A massive black cloud that seemed to have come out of nowhere was rolling toward them at immense speed, headed straight for the track.

“Bloody hell,” Oscar said. “Mia, you’re right. You were right. Sky’s about to open up.”

As if Oscar had conjured the weather, the dark cloud doubled in size, dark and swirling and foreboding, now blocking out the sun. A few seconds later, the rain came. Standing on the balcony, they were shielded from it, but Mia thought it might be wise to seek cover.

“Freya. Oscar. Let’s watch from inside.”

“Looks like we’ve got a cats-and-dogs situation on our hands,” the announcer said from the TVs inside the club. “Because ladies and gentlemen, it is officially raining at Silverstone. This is going to be very interesting. Hubbard is already sliding around a bit. Oh! Hold on! Look there! That’s Xander Bishop heading straight into the pits. What in the world is he doing? Surely there’s no time for another tire change, but the Mega pit crew is running out with the intermediates. Well, there’s a bit of intrigue for you in the closing laps of this race. I predict things are about to get spicy!”

Mia’s stomach felt like it was inside a whirling blender. She didn’t want any more disappointment for Xander. This race meant so much to him.

“You wanted excitement,” Mia said to Freya, her heart up in her throat. “I think we got it.”

* * *

“You’d better be right, Xander,” his engineer said over the radio.

Xander roared out of the pit lane.

“I’ll buy you a pint if I’m wrong.”

As soon as he was up to speed and back on track, he knew he’d made the right decision. Ahead, three different cars were all struggling with grip. And he was in the driver’s seat in every sense of the word.

A bit of rain might not be perfect for everyone else, but it was right on time for Xander.

* * *

Freya, Oscar and Mia all had their eyes glued to the screen. Someone would have had to set Mia’s hair on fire to get her to look away.

“Hey. Uh. Mia. You can maybe hold on to my arm a little less hard,” Oscar said.

Mia let go and shook out her hands. Her fingers ached from gripping Oscar so firmly. “Sorry. I’m just—”

“Nervous?” Freya interjected, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Me, too.”

After his pit stop, Xander had come out in P10, but as other drivers began to slide all over the track and visibility became worse and worse, he passed cars like crazy. “That’s P4 for Xander Bishop. What an overtake from the Brit! Could it be that he’s trying extra hard for his home Grand Prix? I think that might be the case. Matsumoto has finally relented and gone in for the intermediate tires as well. With three laps to go, it might be too late.”

“Come on, Xander,” Mia muttered, her lower lip trembling with a mix of emotion and nervousness she couldn’t begin to understand. “You. Can. Do. It.”

Yes, she absolutely wanted him to hold on to what he had, but she also knew what was within reach—if he moved up one more position, he’d be on the podium.

* * *

Xander couldn’t see shit.

There was so much mist and spray it was impossible. At this point, he was driving on pure instinct and thankful for the blinking lights on the backs of the cars ahead.

Focus, Xander. Fucking focus.

“Lockford is struggling for pace, Xander. You can take him,” his engineer said.

“Stop talking. Please. Just let me drive,” Xander snapped.

He hated losing his cool, but so much of what he wanted was within reach and he needed everyone to just get the hell out of his way. Starting with Brett Lockford.

* * *

P2. Xander was in P2.

“Here it is,” the announcer said. “The final lap.”

The paddock club was packed with people now, trying to avoid the rain. Everyone was staring at the TVs cheering Xander on—the hometown boy, about to become a hero. If all went well.

“Come on, Xander!” Oscar yelled at the screen.

“Oh, my God,” Freya said, clutching her stomach. “I’m going to be sick.”

“I hope your parents are watching,” Mia said.

Thinking about someone else was a good way to distract herself from what was happening. From the enormity of it all. But she could also imagine Audrey consumed by the nerves of watching her son risk life and limb on a track that had turned to an ice rink in the rain. And Edward, filled with hope for a fantastic finish at the Grand Prix that meant so much to the entire family. Once again, a podium finish for Xander felt like too much to hope for. Too much to hold on to…

And then, just like that, Xander flew across the finish line. In second place.

Mia, Freya and Oscar screamed at the exact same time, as did everyone else in the paddock club. It was an explosion of sound, followed by a bright flash of light—a reaction awash in pure joy. The three of them jumped up and down, arms wrapped around each other, Freya crying and Oscar laughing and Mia somewhere in between.

Catharsis didn’t begin to describe it. It was church bells and a shout from a mountaintop and the roar of a crowd at a ticker tape parade. And when the celebration calmed enough for the result to sink in, Mia looked at Freya and then at Oscar, with their wide-as-the-sky grins, and she realized she felt like part of something. Something big. Bigger than anything she’d experienced in her life.

She’d stepped into this world expecting that she’d never truly belong, but she’d found her place. With Xander, his family, this sport. She belonged.

“Hurry! Let’s go!” Oscar yelled. “We have to run down to the podium. I don’t want to watch from the balcony!”

Mia and Freya grabbed their bags and the three of them hustled downstairs, frantically winding their way through the crowds in the paddock and then into the mayhem of fans running to stand in front of the podium. Luckily, the rain now was nothing more than a sprinkle. Isabel spotted Mia, Freya and Oscar and flagged them down.

“I’ve got a spot for you three to watch. Come on.”

Isabel led them behind the barricades to where select family were allowed to watch the podium ceremony near the mechanics and engineers. Mia had seen people stand in this coveted place many times on television, but she’d never imagined she would be there herself.

“I’m so glad you’re here for this,” Freya said, leaning into Mia.

Mia couldn’t explain the way she felt right now—light and free, with nothing but pure happiness coursing through her veins. She kissed Freya on the temple.

“Same. Thank you for sharing this with me. It was so much fun.”

From the podium, they began announcing the drivers’ names. First up was Florian, who received an enthusiastic round of applause from the crowd, not only because he’d taken third place, but possibly because everyone felt bad for his breakup.

Next came Xander…and all hell broke loose. The crowd whooped and hollered in deafening fashion—a British driver on the podium at Silverstone was a very important point of national pride. Clearly. Xander walked out and waved at the adoring masses, looking like he was twenty feet tall, and Mia felt like she would burst.

It was so obvious he’d been crying. His eyes were ringed in pink. But his smile was wide and effortless. He was beaming. Like he was carrying around the whole goddamn sun inside him. She couldn’t wait to see him. Touch him. Kiss him and congratulate him and tell him he was brilliant. The anticipation bubbled under her skin. It wound its way around her heart, along with a thought, one that had been floating around in her head for days as a very vague idea, fueled by sex and stolen kisses and furtive glances. Now that idea was a full-blown thesis, with citations and empirical evidence and footnotes.

She loved Xander. She loved him. That was it. Game over.

Also, she was leaving tomorrow. Fuck.

Emilio took his place on the top step and the band played the Spanish national anthem, followed by the Italian anthem for Vermillion. Trophies were handed out and again the crowd lost it, this time when Xander triumphantly hoisted his over his head. The “Toreador March” blared from the loudspeakers, sprays of champagne began to rain and Mia wondered what was going through Xander’s head right now. Relief? Jubilation? Or more of his yearning for something better? He was the guy who would always be looking for more. But that hunger was part of what made him an elite competitor. That desire for more had put him on the podium today. It had given him a taste of what he’d been chasing all season.

Mia felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Isabel.

“I can get you a sliver of time with Xander before he heads to the media pen. It’ll only be a minute, but I’m sure you don’t want to wait. And he really wants to see you. He told me.”

Mia turned to Freya and Oscar. “You guys should come with me.”

Freya slung her arm over Oscar’s shoulder and shook her head. “Oh, rubbish. You go on. We’ll see him later.”

“Are you sure?”

Oscar smiled and nodded. “Let me put it this way. We’ll never hear the end of it from Xander if we crash his moment with you.”

Mia wound her way through the crowd with Isabel then down a corridor and into a covered breezeway between two of the paddock buildings. Like magic, Xander emerged from a door.

“There you are,” he said, smiling wide.

“Oh, my God, I’m so proud of you,” was all Mia could manage before Xander had her wrapped in a sweaty champagne-soaked embrace. Her feet left the ground and he swung her around as she rested her arms on his broad shoulders and dug her fingers into his hair and delivered a kiss that made a tear run down her cheek.

Fuck. She loved him.

And she couldn’t bear to think this might be all there ever was between them.

“I wish we could do that forever, but I have to go do media.” He put her back down on the ground and peered into her eyes, then wiped her cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay to cry. I cried like a baby in my car after I crossed the finish line.”

Mia smiled, scanning his face and committing every detail to memory. She needed to hold on to these small moments with him. Even though they might break her heart later, after she left, when the reality sank in.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, darling.” Xander turned.

Mia grasped his arm. “Xander. Wait.”

“Yes?”

All Mia could think about was how she’d spent her whole life scared of taking a relationship too fast, but that this was the one moment where she wanted to set that aside. She was leaving England tomorrow, and the future? Well, absolutely none of it was certain.

“I love you, Xander. I know that’s a lot to hear right now and it’s your big day, but I didn’t want you to walk away without knowing… I love you.”

He peered down at her and for a moment, she could’ve sworn his lower lip trembled.

“You are full of surprises, Mia Neal.”

“Well, that’s one way to respond.”

“I love you, too.” He reached down and squeezed her hand. “Had you not figured that out yet? I was just waiting for you to come around. I didn’t want to go too fast.”

“But you’re so good at going fast. I mean, they gave you a trophy for it today.”

“Xander,” Isabel called from a few feet away. “The media pen is buzzing. Everyone is waiting for you.”

He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I have to go, darling. We can resume this conversation later, okay?”

Mia nodded eagerly, half crying, half laughing, all of it in disbelief. “Yes. I’ll see you soon.”

Mia stood there for a moment by herself, taking it all in. “Well, damn. That actually went pretty well.”

She let out a quiet laugh, wiped her tears, and went off to find Oscar and Freya. She found them in the paddock, then the three of them headed back to the motorhome to wait for Xander. As soon as they were inside and had some quiet, Mia pulled her phone out of her pocket. She had dozens of notifications after the dramatic end to the race. The first thing she saw was a text from Heather.

You’re at Silverstone? I just saw you on TV during the podium ceremony. I thought you were coming home after Austria? I really need you to tell me when you’re at a GP so I can keep the fan club notified. You didn’t mention it on the last episode of NSF either. The F1 conspiracy theorists are losing their minds because you were spotted in front of the podium with Xander’s siblings. They think Mega Racing hired you to raise Xander’s profile and that the pod was fake from the beginning. I’m doing my best to defend you, but there are sooo many comments. And your diehard fans are listening. Hard.

Mia’s stomach sank. Had she been a fool to think she could keep her connection to Xander a secret? Probably. At least that was still under wraps. Hanging out with Oscar and Freya was not the same as a romance with Xander.

Hey Heather. Thanks for checking in. Yes, I ended up at Silverstone. I had so much fun in Austria, I figured I might as well stay. I’m so sorry I didn’t let you know. Things have been so busy. Don’t waste your day trying to defend me. It’s not fair to you. Trolls will be trolls. I fly home tomorrow. Can we catch up then?

That sounds great. Talk soon.

Mia didn’t want to overanalyze a text, but Heather was the queen of exclamation marks. Things were changing. Mia could feel it.

A moment later, Mia received a text from her mother and knew for a fact that her world was tilting off its axis.

You’re in England? My editor saw you on TV. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you even put me down as your emergency contact when you booked your flight?

Yes, I’m in England. I didn’t know that I had to tell you every little thing that I do.

Is this what our relationship has become? You hide things from me and I have to use my investigative reporting skills to find out what my own daughter is doing?

Mia needed to defuse this situation since her mom was blowing it out of proportion.

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I fly home tomorrow. Let’s have dinner this week and I’ll catch you up. Tuesday night? My apartment? I’ll cook.

You’re changing the subject.

I’m not. I’m merely suggesting we talk about it in person.

What time? Should I bring wine? White or red? What about an appetizer? Or dessert? I don’t want to interfere with whatever you were planning to prepare.

Six. Definitely wine. White, please. Not sure what I’m going to cook. I just want to catch up.

Fly safe. And don’t drink water on the airplane unless it comes out of a bottle. I read an article about how the airlines have let sanitation standards slip. Love you. Mom

After those two exchanges, Mia wanted nothing to do with her phone so she tucked it into her bag. Unfortunately, there were two other phones on the motorhome and she had zero control of those.

“Somebody posted a photo of us up on the balcony in the paddock club. Who’s Reginald Huff? He tagged me,” Freya said.

Oscar was on the case. “He tagged me, too. And Mia. Is it just me or is this caption semicreepy?”

Mia couldn’t bear to look. “What does it say?”

“‘Got some very interesting photos at Silverstone today,’” Freya started reading. “‘Of course, the paddock is abuzz with talk of Xander Bishop and his impressive second-place finish.’” She looked at Oscar and smiled. “Aww. Sweet.”

“Yeah, but that’s not everything,” Oscar replied, then focused his attention on the post. “‘Here are his sister Freya and brother Oscar attending the Grand Prix with none other than American podcaster and aspiring Formula One influencer Mia Neal. If you’re a Xander fan, be sure to check tomorrow’s front page of The Daily Reflection . It’s going to be a hot one.’”

“What does that mean?” Freya asked. “If you’re a Xander fan, check out tomorrow’s front page? It’s going to be a hot one?”

“Not sure.” Mia’s brain was going one million miles a minute. She was surprised smoke wasn’t coming out of her ears. What was Reginald Huff up to? No good was the only logical answer.

Just then, Mia heard the latch to the door on the motorhome and up the stairs came Xander.

“There he is!” she exclaimed, her heart full despite ev erything that had come to light in the past few minutes. She popped up from her seat to greet him, noticing how different it felt to look at him now.

She loved him. And he loved her back.

Freya and Oscar had similar reactions, each of them vying for Xander’s attention with hugs and well-wishes. When things settled down, Xander smiled and looked at all three of them. “What have you all been up to?”

“Do you know a man named Reginald Huff?” Freya asked.

“I do. Why?” His sights narrowed on his sister.

“It’s nothing.” Mia lightly hit Freya’s leg with the back of her hand. “He’s just saying The Daily Reflection is going to publish photos of you tomorrow. No big surprise there. I’m sure he got all sorts of great shots of you up on the podium. It’s a big deal. I’m sure you’ll be in lots of publications all across England tomorrow.”

Xander cast a doubtful look in Mia’s direction. “Do you really think Reginald Huff will be charitable with me?”

“In this case, yes. I do.” Mia really didn’t want to ruin today. Too many good things had happened. A podium. I love you. Those were worth savoring. They were worth celebrating. “Now, who wants to hunt down some champagne?”