“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 Cockpitis 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 lookingto 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.
“I understand,” I say, nodding. “But to me, the bigger heartache is not being with Caleb. If my career ends today, I’ll bedevastated. Gutted. Absolutely gutted. But you know what will happen? I’ll continue to create my content. More importantly? I’ll have a man who respects me, honors me, and makes me feel seen. He’s worth risking my TV career for, and I don’t regret that. I couldneverregret that.”
More surprised looks go around the table. I don’t think anyone expected me to get that personal, but if that’s what needs to be said for them to see where my head—and heart— are, that’s fine with me.
I stop speaking.
Michael appears thoughtful. He looks over at me with a considering look in his eyes. “We don’t have anything in your contract saying you cannot date anyone in the world of motorsport,” he says slowly.
My heart stops. That’s not exactly a ringing endorsement of what is to come. It’s almost like, “Well, Isla, it’s not there, BUT …” I’m just waiting for that “but” to follow.
“No. We don’t have that clause,” Lydia confirms.
I swallow to keep coffee from rising up my throat. Puking all over the conference room table would kind of kill the vibe I so carefully built with my speech.
“This is something we’ve had to navigate very carefully in the past,” Michael says. “We’ve done it before. We remove talent from the sport they are covering and reassign them to something different.”
I nod in understanding, but I feel everything is beginning to slip away. “Right.”
“In this case, I could reassign you to Formula E. MotoGP to cover motorcycle racing. Rallying.”
It’s over. I’m not terminated, but I will no longer be covering Formula 1.
“I see,” I say, working to keep my voice calm and level instead of distraught and devastated like I feel inside.
“I don’t think you do,” Michael says. “Icoulddo those things. I’m not saying Iwill.”
“What?” I ask, hope filling me.
“As long as you are clear about the direction of your career in Formula 1—you’ll never move on to analysis or commentary or serious investigative reporting as long as you’re dating Caleb—I will keep you in place. Your segments bring in big numbers. So did the initial episode ofOutside the Cockpit, and I suspect Xavier’s episode will break what we recorded with Caleb. As long as you maintain your professionalism, which you have so far, I don’t see a need to remove you.”