Chapter 8
SAKHIR, BAHRAIN
“ W ow, Miss Bailey . Look at all those men queuing just to be interviewed by you.”
Giggling at the cameraman beside her, Indy adjusted the lanyard strapped around her neck before glancing at him. Scott Cassidy was part of the filming crew at Thunderbolt Sports and the only coworker she had clicked with—mostly because they’d been assigned to work together for the entire season.
Last week had been her first week at work, which had consisted of preparing for the beginning of the season. She’d been right to dread it, because she had sensed thather coworkers weren’t particularly excited for her to join the team, whereas she had walked in with pride rushing through her bloodstream and greeted everyone with a big smile, delighted to start this journey. Indy loved the lead presenter who was also her boss, Carmen Stenfield, an ex-race car driver, who saw her as a true force and had expressed her gratitude for joining the team.
Still, there was nothing worse than feeling unwelcome and as though she didn’t fit in at work.
But this was, and had always been, Indy’s dream job, and she wouldn’t let anything or anyone ruin this experience for her.
Indy was now standing in the media pen, waiting to interview the drivers about their first run of the pre-season testing. During three days, all twenty drivers were able to test out their cars before the actual first race, allowing the teams to gain valuable information about the cars’ performances as they’d be put through their paces on track. Testings also allowed drivers to put their skills to use.
She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, trying to ease the ball of anxiety rolling inside the pit of her stomach. She’d been assigned to conduct post-practice and race interviews for this weekend and the next one.
“You should capture this, Scotty,” she said, smiling at the grey-haired man. “It’s not everyday that I have this many drivers begging for my attention.”
Scott crossed his arms over his chest, his camera set up by his side. “I bet everyone envies you right now.”
Before her stood Rowan Emerson, driver for Primavera Racing, as he chatted quietly with his press officer, a guy named Joey. Right behind them was Miles and his publicist, Ava, both of them talking with Thiago, Rowan’s teammate.
Indy chuckled when Rowan winked at Ava, his girlfriend, making the latter blush furiously. Miles grumbled something from her side before throwing his hands in the air.
Jealousy was a vicious thing, something Indy shouldn’t be feeling. But she wanted this friendship with Miles, the one he and Ava had since they were children. But she also wanted what Ava and Rowan had, that kind of unwavering love where they’d find each other in every universe and lifetime.
“I call dibs!” Charlie Beaumont stepped before Indy, raking his fingers through his dark hair and pushing them back. He then scratched his beard, grinning handsomely. “Hello.”
His broad grin instantly eased her nerves, and she mirrored his smile. “Hey, Charlie.”
“Yo, it was my turn,” Rowan said, stepping behind Charlie.
Charlie smirked. “Shoulda been faster, mate.”
Chuckling, Indy turned to Scott. “Let’s get the camera rolling.”
“Good luck,” whispered Scott. “You’re doing great, Miss Bailey.”
Indy offered a grateful smile to the cameraman before turning to Charlie.
She’d known Charlie since she was a child because her relatives who lived in Montana were close to Charlie’s family. In a way, she liked to think of him as a distant cousin. He was ruggedly handsome, with those dark eyes and brown locks slightly longer than any other drivers’ on the grid.
A lady working for F1 entered the media pen, waving her hands in the air. “Why are you all waiting in line? There’s at least ten other reporters you all have to go to. Move. All of you. Now!”
“So goddamn bossy,” Rowan muttered.
“Rowan,” Ava hissed, but Indy could still perceive the amusement glinting in her eyes.
He raised a tattooed hand. “Ah-ah. You’re not my press officer anymore. You cannot scold me, sunflower.”
Ava narrowed her gaze before pulling Miles by his elbow towards a journalist on the opposite end of the pen.
Indy slipped her gaze towards Charlie who was toying with his earring, chuckling. “So, Charlie. You were the second fastest today despite the minor issue with the gearbox at the beginning of the session. How does it feel to be back in the car?”
When it was Huxley’s turn, her heart went into overdrive, exploded, and turned into fragments in the pit of her stomach.
She hated the way her body would react to his presence, even if her demeanour didn’t give way to her weakness.There was no denying that Miles Huxley was extremely hot in his racing suit, cheeks slightly flushed and traces of his balaclava still marking his cheeks.
“Indigo,” Miles greeted with a dip of his chin, holding her gaze.
The late afternoon sun shone softly upon his features, outlining the evidence of his regal cheekbones, and brightening the unique, mesmerising colour of his irises. For a moment, she almost got lost in him.
“Huxley.” She smiled brightly, watching the way he gripped the railing between them. “How does it feel to be back in the car after a three-month break?”
“Amazing and refreshing.”
“It looked like you struggled a bit today, though. I noticed you couldn’t manage to control the car as easily as usual.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I kept losing the rear. Too much oversteer. It’s frustrating because the car worked well on this track last season, so we have some improvements to make. But we still have two more days of testing, and that gives us enough time to do what we have to do to perfect the car for next weekend.”
A couple of questions and answers flew between them, their gazes never disconnecting as though no one, nothing surrounded them. His posture was casual, yet stoic—the same way he’d acted with other reporters. But his eyes… Indy saw the tenderness in them, and she wondered if she was the only one able to see how he’d brought his walls down around her, albeit faintly and slowly.
“Thank you for your time,” she said softly after he finished answering the last question.
And then, he smiled. Subtle, but there. The entire world felt like coming to a full stop, this moment feeling like exploding fireworks—the highlight of her day. “Thank you.”
When she wrapped up the interviews, she turned to Scott and squealed before slanting her palm over her lips. “Sorry. Sorry. I got too excited for a moment.”
Scott chuckled as he turned the camera off before raising his hand, inviting Indy to high-five him. “Awesome?”
She sighed in relief, elated. “So awesome!”
There was no comparison to that blissful sensation skittering down her spine as she grinned, not yet grasping the fact that she’d just conducted her very first round of interviews of the season without having any slip-ups.
“You’re perfect for this job. Dynamic and enthusiastic, but still very professional. It shows that you paid attention to each driver during their laps and wrote down everything you needed to ask. Good job.”
She swore the back of her throat was tightening. “Thanks, Scotty. I can call you Scotty, right?”
He chuckled again. “You call me whatever you want, Miss Bailey. I’m going to put in a good word for you to Carmen. She’ll be happy to know you nailed your first interview session.”
Fuck yes!
She sauntered away, happy. She wanted to dance and jump around and tell her friends about it all, but she simply walked the paddock with her chin held high, her slightly trembling fingers still holding onto the microphone.
“Indigo! Indigo! An autograph, pleaaaase.”
Turning around, she watched Alex jog towards her, his dear camera strapped around his neck. She chuckled, lightly smacking his chest when he fell into step beside her.
“You’re going to be a famous journalist,” he said, “and I want to sell your autograph. It could cost hundreds of thousands of bucks.”
“I’ll sign the prettiest shot you have of me.”
“Is that a yes?”
She rolled her eyes in amusement.
The adrenaline crashed down way too quickly for her liking, letting place to unsettling nerves and self-doubt. “How did I do?”
Alex mussed his blonde hair with a hand. “From what I saw and heard, you did great. You were made for this.”
She nudged her shoulder to her friend’s, still beaming despite her inner battle. Convincing herself she’d aced it would be a struggle even with all the praise. “Thanks, Alex.”
“Plus, you did the impossible.”
She looked over to him, arching a brow incredulously. “Which is?”
“You made Huxley smile. This is a first, and we’re all shocked to our core right now.”
She blinked, casting that sensation of flutters inside her stomach aside. “That’s overly dramatic.”
“No, I promise. The guy doesn’t smile at anyone. Doesn’t talk to anyone except his press officer and trainer. He smiled at you, Ind. You know what it means, right?”
“No?”
“That the World Champion is going to let you in.”