Chapter 10
SAKHIR, BAHRAIN
“ I think I’m about to vomit.”
“Real sexy, Ind,” Alex deadpanned after lowering the camera and showing her the shot he had just taken of her standing in front of Primavera Racing’s garage, smiling.
“I’m so nervous,” she whispered after approving of the photo.
She was wearing white suit-pants, high heels, and her hair was flowing down her back in gentle waves. The people around the paddock were looking at her in awe, begging to be photographed with her by their side, and having all that attention on her didn’t help with unsettled nerves.
She followed Alex towards the pit lane when he said, “Come on, it’s not your first time speaking on camera.”
“It’ll be my first time being on live TV!”
She took a deep breath in, trying to think of anything but the ball of stress stirring inside her stomach. Delicious, gooey cookies. A fresh iced coffee. A cheesy pizza. A new pair of Louboutins. Maybe some lingerie.
“Hey,” Alex crooned, elbowing her. “I need to go, but you’ve got this, okay?”
With a nod, she accepted the side hug and watched her friend saunter off to Thiago, who was busy chatting with his race engineer.
Today was the first Grand Prix of the season.
And this would be Indy’s very first live TV appearance as a Formula 1 presenter. She was getting ready to walk through the pit lane with Carmen, and they would debrief about the weekend so far (free practices and qualifying session) and give their predictions for the race.
“We’re going live in five,” announced Scott.
Indy walked over to where Carmen was standing, a stylist fixing her long, brown hair. She smiled at Indy when she approached, but Indy glanced towards Imperium Racing’s garage, observing a group of car mechanics round Miles’ car.
A gentle, amicable pat fell upon her back, and Indy grinned at Charlie who was rushing towards his own garage—the one right in between Thiago’s and Miles’. “Good luck!”
A warm sensation danced across her chest. “To you, too.”
He winked, then disappeared inside his garage.
“Hey, Indy.” It was Henry Huxley, leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his trousers. Diana would have enjoyed the sight. She walked up to the man, waving. “Amazing job. You’ve been dreaming of this for quite some time, haven’t you? I talked to your dad just earlier, and he and your mum are so proud of you.”
The back of Indy’s nose burned. She’d received so many messages from friends and family congratulating her on her TV debut, but seeing pride shine in her parents’ eyes felt akin to being held tightly. Even Kai was here for the first race. In fact, he was standing at the back of Huxley’s garage, phone in hand, trying to film Indy.
“Thanks, Henry.”
He smiled, then drifted his attention towards David Rogers, Imperium Racing’s team principal. That was Indy’s cue to leave, but a hand caught her elbow, obliging her to pivot.
How many photographers had been able to capture this moment—the rapid motion of Miles holding onto Indy so she wouldn’t slip away?
Her heart thundered when her gaze fell upon a broad chest clad with a black fireproof shirt. Slowly, she found breathtaking green eyes, watching her with so much tenderness that she almost felt her heart shatter to pieces.
“Hi, Daisy.”
His hand had left her elbow a while ago, but its warmth still lingered on her skin.
“Hi, Golden Boy.” An easy smile spread across her lips, drawing his attention towards her mouth. “Ready to beat everyone else?”
“I didn’t know this was an interview,” he taunted, and she huffed out an amused laugh. “Look, I don’t like talking too fast or being too cocky, but I’m starting from pole, so it should be easy.”
Of course, he’d had an amazing weekend and results, topping every driver on the grid every time he was in the car. Indy had seen many comments on the internet regarding Miles’ behaviour during pre-season testing, speculating he’d pretended to struggle just to spite his rivals. If he was affected by the rudeness of those people, he didn’t show it.
“How are you feeling?”
“A bit nervous,” she admitted. This morning’s activity—sitting in the passenger seat whilst Miles rushed down the track—had made adrenaline crash through her veins, making her forget about the real world. She’d shouted his name when he went full throttle through the track, and he had laughed heartily. But now, she couldn’t exactly ignore her trembling hands and churning stomach.
“That’s normal. But you’re going to be amazing. You know what you’re doing.” His magnifying eyes tracked down her outfit. “And you look very pretty.”
Indy didn’t miss the scarlet blush staining his cheekbones. Was this man really the World Champion the world had categorised as too distant and uncaring?
“Are you hitting on me?” she whispered, chuckling. Behind him, Kai was walking over to them.
“That wouldn’t be very professional of me,” he said breezily.
She wondered what would have happened two nights ago if they hadn’t started playing this foolish, meaningless game. Would he have brought her to his room? Torn off her swimsuit?—
“Miss Bailey?” Scott called. “Two minutes.”
“Okay, I need to go.” Just as she started pivoting, she halted and looked at him again, finding his expression now unreadable. He must have remembered where he was. “Thank you for the sketch pad and pencils. Ava didn’t say they were from you, but I’m not dumb.”
“I knew you’d put two and two together easily,” Miles said softly. “I know it's not acrylic paint or watercolour and a canvas, but I hope they were helpful.”
It had been a small act, but its meaning and the intention behind getting her those supplies as quickly as possible had almost swept her off her feet.
She gave his fingers a small squeeze, tingles dancing on her palm. “You have no idea. Good luck, Huxley.”
The most subtle smile ghosted over his lips. “You too.”
She sauntered over to the filming crew, waving over her shoulder when she heard Kai cheer for her.
Grabbing the microphone Carmen extended her way, she smiled. “Let’s do this.”
She placed herself on Carmen’s left, allowing the stylist to quickly rearrange her hair before facing the camera, chin high and burning determination seeping through her veins.
“Thirty seconds,” Scott announced.
All it took was a glance behind the cameraman to make Indy’s heart somersault. Between Primavera Racing and Imperium Racing garages stood Miles, watching her with his arms folded across his chest, a glimmer of pride shining in his eyes. And next to him stood Kai, his phone in hand. Was that a tear streaming down his face? Ava was on Miles’ other side, beaming brightly, tucked under Rowan’s arm who gave her a thumbs-up. Kamari was next to the Australian driver, leaning close to Thiago, who kissed her temple, before nodding enthusiastically at Indy. Even Alex, Cal, and Tate were standing there, cheering her on for this memorable moment.
All her friends were there. Her family. All ready to witness her first, big step.
She swallowed the emotions and looked at the camera.
When the signal was given, they began recording.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Carmen started. “F1 is back! Today, I’m in the wonderful company of Indigo Bailey, our newest presenter at Thunderbolt Sports. Indy, welcome. What’s your first impression of the weekend so far?”
She brought the microphone to her mouth, her smile so big that her cheeks hurt. “Hi, Carmen. Thank you. Well, the atmosphere is sizzling and hectic in the best way possible. I can feel a great energy emanating from everyone as they’re getting ready for the race. Qualifying was absolutely thrilling. Can you believe there were only nine thousandths of a second separating Huxley and Valencia from pole position?”
They started taking a few steps forward. “I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. Here, let’s grab Thiago and ask how he’s feeling to start the race on the front row.”
As Thiago fell into step between them, Indy cast a glance at her friends, and the sheer pride and admiration etched on each of their faces sent a wave of comfort through her.
She’d made it. And she’d make it to the mountain’s peak, too.