“Oh, I’ve never had that. What does it taste like? And don’t say chicken!”
He laughs. God, I love that I can make this serious man laugh.
“Will you stab me in the eye with a chopstick if I say it tastes like chicken?”
“That’s a rather violent thing to accuse me of being capable of,” I say playfully.
Caleb’s mouth pulls up into a smile. “But will you?”
“No,” I say, pretending to mull it over. “But I might poke you in the arm.” Then I playfully poke him in the arm with my chopstick.
Caleb laughs again. “Okay. I won’t tell you it tastes like chicken. But what if it really does?”
“Does it?”
“No.”
We both laugh.
“It kinda tastes like shellfish,” he says.
“Okay, that’s good enough for me,” I say, putting some on my plate.
Caleb takes his plate to the kitchen table, which overlooks the terrace. “What do you want to drink? I have wine and beer, if you’d like that.”
“No, water is fine.” I take my plate and go to the seat across from him at the table. “I have to get up really early tomorrow to create my own content before doing stuff for TV.”
He nods and brings two glasses of water to the table.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome. So what are you doing for F2 this weekend?” he asks as he takes his seat.
“I’m meeting up with the drivers of Skadi Motorsport to learn how they train for reaction times,” I say, picking up the red-mullet sashimi with my chopsticks. “They’ll show me how they do the training with hitting the lights, juggling, all that stuff. Then I’ll try it, which will be comedy because I know I’ll be terrible. Then I’ll also do a little Q and A with the drivers, too.”
I pause to eat the red mullet, and Caleb is right—this does taste like shellfish! “Caleb, this is delicious,” I say after I finish my bite.
“It’s one of my favorites. So is that your only assignment for the network this weekend?”
I nod. “Yes. I know they’re working on scheduling guests forOutside the Cockpit, but that will take time to coordinate. So I plan to do some more segments for my channels, like explaining little details about the race I’ve dug up, or even some things about Monaco itself. Then I have the Emilia Wentworth-Hay party on Friday night.”
“I got an invite to that,” Caleb says casually.
“You did? Are you going?” I ask, excited by the prospect of seeing him again tomorrow night.
“I wasn’t planning on it until I found out you got invited.” He pauses to eat a piece of sushi. After he swallows, he looks at me. “I would love to see you there if you’re comfortable with that. It would be normal for us to talk for a few minutes.” A scowl passes over his face. “Before I have to go to another function.”
“Don’t stop by just to see me,” I reassure him.
“But seeing you would be the one part of the night I wouldenjoy.”
SWOON.
“What is Friday’s party?” I ask.
“On some yacht. Catherine has the details. She knows to tell me tomorrow where to show up and how to dress.”
I begin to laugh, and he stares at me. “What? They’reboring.”