“We’re going from groundhogs to ink tobread?”
“Yes. Please keep up. For a world champion, you’re a bit slow right now,” I tease.
He bursts out laughing, and I know this interview is going just as well as I hoped it would.
“All right. Favorite bread: sourdough.”
“Oh, inspired choice,” I say. “Toasted or untoasted?”
We go on to talk for a half-hour before he has to head to the next thing on his schedule. Xavier was a good sport. I asked him a few more racing questions, like his thoughts on running a wet race—no surprise, he likes the difficulty of competing in the rain—and what track provides him the biggest challenge. I mix in a few more silly questions, and then we wrap up.
Once our mics are off, we get ready to say goodbye. He gently takes my elbow in his hand and dips his head so he can whisper in my ear, “I see why Caleb broke rules for you.”
Ooh!
I wish I could ask him to tell me more, but we’re surrounded by people, and his media person is waiting to steer him to his next obligation.
Xavier disappears, and soon I’m walking out with the crew. We part ways in the paddock, and I feel happy. I’m here in Montreal. Working another Grand Prix. And not only that, but doing something I completely love. I’m interviewing the topdrivers in the world, and I’m also creating my own content. Continuing to grow by doing fun features that educate fans.
I love my job. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better career situation if I tried.
Then I glance over at the Collings Motors motorhome and think of Caleb. I broke a whole lot of my own rules to fall in love with him.
As of this moment, I have Caleb, and I have my career. But I know my career dreams could be shattered. All of this could disappear as fast as it came now that the truth is out.
I swallow hard. Nothing is guaranteed to me from the network. They could cut me, I know that. It all comes down to a very important meeting next week in London.
And all I can do is hope I’ll have both Caleb and my career by the end of it.
Chapter Thirty-Two
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 wastense.
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.