I’ll never get it.
I try to focus again. I think I’ll send Caleb a text and let him know how the feature was received and thank him once again for doing it.
Just as I reach for my phone, it buzzes in my hand, and I see it’s my best friend, Hadleigh. I tap it open and read:
OMG WHAT IS GOING ON AT THE TRACK? Did you get the feature? Did you see any hot F1 drivers? TELLLLLLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
I grin. Hadleigh and I have been friends since our senior year of high school and remained friends during our years apart while she was at the University of Miami, and I was at Georgia. She has a good job doing data analysis for a large shipping and packaging company, and has her own apartment in Miami, so we see each other all the time. I immediately text her:
HADLEIGH. Emergency catch-up session tonight. I not only met drivers, but got one to give me a tour for my shoot! Also, the same driver has asked me to go back to the track tomorrow so I can film content for my channels!
Hadleigh Vanderberg is typing …
OMG! Isla, this is AMAZING!!! I can’t wait to hear all about it! This all sounds LIFE-CHANGING!!!!
Life-changing.
Funny, that’s the same thought I had, too.
The second I think it, Caleb’s gorgeous face flashes through my mind. I can see his jet-black hair. The piercing blue eyes. The long lashes and full lips …
My cheeks grow warm, and I try to shake the thought from my head. But really, it’s okay that Caleb popped into my brain just now. His appearance in my feature was life-changing. And his invite for me to go to the garage tomorrow and film more content is definitely life-changing.
It’s natural for him to pop into my head.
Caleb is also drop-dead gorgeous, so it’s entirely natural I would think of how he looks. And I was about to send him a text, so all of this is a normal response to have.
Reassured by my logic, I pull up our text thread and send him a message:
Caleb, just wanted to let you know The Downforce Network loved the tour feature. They can’t believe I got you to do it. They’re not only going to air it on social media, but on the network in pre-practice coverage tomorrow, too. I one hundred percent owe you one for this. Thank you.
I put my phone aside and get up. I move over to my closet, open the door, and begin flicking through my clothing, thinking of what I can wear tomorrow. I have to dress up, but it has to besomething I can climb into an F1 race car in, too. I’ll film a “Get Ready With Me” video first. My followers like those, but I fully anticipate getting numbers like I’ve never seen when I’m in the Collings Motors garage tomorrow.
EEK! I cannotwaitfor tomorrow. It’s going to be more free form, because I don’t know who I’ll be talking to or what I’ll be able to film, but regardless, it’s going to be fantastic.
Buzz!
I hear my phone vibrating on my bed just as I’ve retrieved a gorgeous black asymmetrical jumpsuit with one shoulder. Ooh! This is perfect! I bring it with me and lay it across the end of my bed, then pick up my phone.
Caleb has responded to my message.
I ignore the tingling in my stomach and tap open his response:
That’s brilliant news, Isla. You deserve it.
Caleb Collings is typing …
However, you told me you would not thank me again, but you just did.
I find myself smiling at that. I’m about to reply when I see that Caleb is still typing. I wait for his next message to drop in, and finally, it does:
Maybe I need to ask you to stop thanking me in a language you do understand. Like french toast.
My grin grows wider as I text him back:
I wasn’t aware french toast could communicate to me to stop showing you gratitude.
Caleb Collings is typing …