Then I drop my phone into my bag right as my dad pulls up next to me on the curb. He gets out of the car, and I take him in. He’s wearing his dress shirt and trousers. His russet hair has flecks of gray in it, his skin is tanned from rounds of golf and playing pickleball—Dad’s latest obsession—and his hazel eyes regard me warmly as he approaches.
“Hi, Dad!” I say eagerly.
The first thing he does is wrap me up in a big bear hug, the only kind Mitch Foley knows how to give. “Look at the newest star for The Downforce Network,” he says proudly.
I chuckle at that. “Not true. Newest correspondent is more like it.”
He lets go of me and picks up my suitcase. “Trust me. They don’t make arrangements like this for a regular freelance correspondent. They are locking you in. I’m so damn proud of you.”
Multiple feelings rise within me. I’m glad I’ve made him proud. I’m blessed to have a father like him who helped make me the person I am today.
And I’m really going to miss him when I start my new life in Europe.
We get into the car and make the usual small talk as we head back home to Miami Beach.How was the flight? Monaco? Have you slept at all?And me asking return catch-up questions.How was your week? How was work? Did you and Mom play a lot of pickleball?
When we pull up to another stoplight at an intersection, Dad clears his throat. “Isla, coming back to F1,” he says slowly, almost as if he’s easing into the topic. “I don’t know how to say this other than to just say it. I’ve always been a straight shooter with you, and I’m not going to stop now.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Um, okay. Go on.”
He keeps his gaze straight ahead on the traffic lights. “I know you. You’re my only child. I know your expressions, the pitch of your voice. I watched that interview with Caleb Collings, and you didn’t respond to him like an ordinary interviewee.”
Panic grips me. I force myself to remain very, very still and wait for him to resume speaking.
“I think you like him,” Dad says. “Your whole face lit up when he began talking about candy. But I thought, okay, he’s an attractive man in a dangerous job. It would be hard for a lot of women not to respond to him.
“But then I saw pictures from the Emilia Wentworth-Hay party,” he continues. “You had your hand on his arm, and when you pulled back to look at him, I saw it. Youlikehim.”
I gulp. My heart thumps with anxiety against my ribs.
The light turns green, and Dad eases ahead with the flow of traffic. Sunlight streams down from the blue sky, and we drive next to the ocean, but everything begins to disappear from sight as I worry about what my dad will say next.
“The fact that you aren’t denying it is alarming,” he says softly.
“Alarming?” I finally say. “Why would you use that word?”
He nods. “Alarmingisthe right word. Because Isla, if you’re thinking about getting involved with him? Or God forbid, you’ve already lit that match? You’re going to regret it. Because pursuing anything with Caleb Collings is the biggest mistake you could ever make.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I sit still in the passenger seat, the blood pounding in my ears as I stare out the window. I’m angry. Very, very angry that Dad has inserted himself into a relationship he knows nothing about.
But I also feel something else.
Fear.
Fear I’m disappointing him. Disappointing Mom.
Fear he could be right, and I could lose the career I’ve worked so hard for whether things work out with Caleb or not.
“I can see I’ve upset you,” Dad says softly.
I turn my head to face him. “Yes. You have.”
“But you don’t deny it. Your situation with Caleb.”
I draw a breath of air to calm myself before answering. “What I decide to do with Caleb is my business,” I say slowly. “You’re my dad. I love you. I respect you. I’ve always valued your opinion. But I didn’t ask for it.”
Now it’s Dad’s turn to be quiet before speaking again. “I know you didn’t,” he concedes. “Isla, I love you. I’m giving you advice you might not want to hear because of that. It’s up to you what you do with it. But I see the career you’ve worked so hard for. I know the hours you put in at the high school TV station, covering sports. The internships you’ve done. The hours you’ve covered events I know you have no interest in. The endless workyou did at Georgia, and then you get that opportunity at the Miami Grand Pr—”