FIVE #2
‘“Have I ever committed a crime?”’ He looks up abruptly, just in time to catch me ogling him. ‘Do I have to be truthful?’
‘That would probably be best.’ I clear my throat, as if that might somehow hide the hot flush creeping over my cheeks. ‘Unless … do you want to leave that one out?’
‘We probably should.’
‘Really?’ I lean forward, intrigued. ‘What did you do?’
‘It was a long time ago.’ He looks back down at the list. ‘“Describe your ideal partner.”’
‘Right. Again, feel free to cross out any questions you don’t like.’
‘It’s a tricky one.’ He sounds thoughtful. ‘But I guess it would need to be someone who likes Arctic foxes too. Then I wouldn’t have to choose between her and my pet.’
‘Good answer.’ I smile because I feel like he’s finally getting into the spirit.
In which case, maybe it’s time to ask the big question?
‘Leif,’ I say in a casual voice. ‘I notice that you don’t do social media, but fans really like to connect with drivers.
And I’m sure your sponsors would appreciate it too …
’ I take a deep breath. ‘How would you feel about setting up an Instagram account?’
‘No.’ He doesn’t hesitate.
‘You wouldn’t have to do much.’ I carry on like he hasn’t spoken. ‘We’d be happy to produce and edit the content for you. Then your assistant –’
‘I don’t have an assistant.’
I blink a couple of times. ‘You don’t?’
He shrugs. ‘My manager and performance coach deal with most things.’
‘So maybe one of them could do it? Or me?’ I spread my hands out. ‘I’d be happy to run your account for you.’
‘I just want to drive.’
‘I understand, but –’
‘I’m paid to drive.’
‘Well, that’s not entirely true.’ I try to keep my tone reasonable. ‘Your contract involves certain promotional requirements, doesn’t it?’
‘Some.’ The furrow between his eyes deepens. ‘The ones I couldn’t get out of.’
‘Because they’re good for the team. The more media you do, the more attention it brings, which means more sponsors, fans and money.’
‘Formula 1 is about driving skill and precision engineering.’ His tone is clipped. ‘If people don’t think that’s enough, then maybe they’re not real fans.’
‘Oh, come on.’ I roll my eyes because now he’s being deliberately obtuse. ‘There’s a lot more to it. Or do you think there ought to be some kind of test for people attending a Grand Prix? So only ones who can correctly identify all the components in a power unit can enter?’
‘I’m not saying that.’ His eyes flash so brightly I could almost swear they turn silver.
‘All I’m saying is that I’m happy to talk about the car and the races, but as for social media and the rest of this bullshit …
’ He waves a disparaging hand at my paper.
‘I don’t see the relevance of some trivial interview about my favourite animal. ’
‘Excuse me, but I’m doing you a favour with this bullshit interview.
’ I keep my voice calm because, despite the fact he just insulted my job, I’m supposed to be building bridges, not arguing with him.
‘I deliberately chose these questions so you wouldn’t have to talk about your private life.
And this doesn’t have to be trivial. If you weren’t so close-minded, you’d know that social media can be powerful, a platform to talk about issues you care about.
You could do some good with it.’ I heave a sigh.
‘Look, believe it or not, we’re on the same side.
I’m trying to help the team , and right now, you’re stopping me from doing my job. ’
His gaze flickers briefly before he leans back in his chair. ‘It matters that much to you?’
‘Yes. So you should either give in now or get ready to have this conversation every time we meet.’
‘Then I guess we’re going to be repeating ourselves a lot.’
‘If that’s what it takes.’ I close my laptop to demonstrate I mean business. ‘Please look over the rest of those questions when you get a chance, and we’ll shoot the video when you get back from Barcelona.’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’ I toss my ponytail and then can’t resist digging the boot in. ‘And when you’re being interviewed in Spain, if you could say a little more than the absolute minimum, that would be really helpful. Maybe with a hint of a smile?’
He doesn’t answer, holding on to my gaze with a look that I can’t interpret, but that somehow makes it harder to breathe.
It feels as if the air is subtly shifting, like somebody is lighting tiny invisible matches around us.
The atmosphere feels taut, tense … exciting .
Heat blooms in my stomach and I’m self-consciously aware of a now familiar (and entirely unwelcome) tingling sensation racing across my skin.
I have a sudden image of us both springing across the table, his arms pulling me against him, me lifting my face up to meet his …
Wait, what? I push the thought out of my head. It’s so inappropriate I can feel myself blushing again.
Fortunately, Leif breaks the connection, pushing his chair back and standing up.
‘I’ll do my best.’ His voice sounds different, huskier than before.
‘That’s all I ask.’ My throat feels tight too.
Then he’s gone and I have a feeling that working with Leif Olsen is going to be a bigger problem than I anticipated.