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“I am. I know this isn’t what I thought I wanted before, and maybe this is all just some stuff I’m doing on the side, but perhaps what I studied at uni isn’t going to be my final destination.” Suddenly I chuckle. “There. I gave you my debrief, there’s no need for a coffee now.”

“Oh, there’s going to be coffee. I need it,” Mason says. “Do you need to try on more stuff? I can wait.”

I give him a side-eye. “Don’t you have simulator driving to do?”

“I always get my sim work done.” Then he drops down onto an oversized plush green chair. “Come on. Show me what else you’re thinking about.”

Okay, I did not plan to have an impromptu modelling session for Mason today, but I’m so taking advantage of this opportunity. When Eric comes back to check on me, I tell him my ideas, and he heads back out to the floor to pull some items that might work for a capsule collection. For the next hour, I try on clothing, with Mason as my sounding board. He’s engaged and gives his honest thoughts, which I love hearing. Once I have my capsule concept pieces selected, I change back into my white blouse and black pants. When I open the door, Mason looks up from his phone, and I notice his eyes flicker over me again.

And I see heat in them.

I’m buzzing when I see that look in his eyes. The attraction is definitely there, so is the chemistry. We’ve moved from being friendly to now being flirty, which I like.

But will we always remain friends and deny whatever is forming between us?

“You look beautiful, Catherine,” he says softly.

“Thank you,” I say. “Let me pay for this and then we can get coffee.”

Mason rises and follows me up to the till, where Eric has already rung up my purchases, wrapped them, and put them in Vibrance’s signature glossy black bag. After I pay, Mason walks me to the door, opening it for me, and I squint in the bright sunshine. I quickly fish for my sunglasses in my bag, and Mason puts his back on, too.

“I know there are some really posh cafés,” he says slowly. “But I really just want a cup of coffee with some milk. And I’d like to sit outside by the water. Are you okay with the Starbucks at La Condamine?”

“And what business are we conducting there?” I tease.

“We’ll settle what time you’re coming over tomorrow to inspect my wardrobe. Here, give me your shopping to carry.”

I hand him my bag, and he carries it as he escorts me to his car. I know this morning is going to be memorable, having coffee outside on this beautiful summer day, watching the sunlight sparkle on the sea and gazing at the buildings in the mountains around us.

But most of all? I’ll be with Mason.

And I’m going to enjoy every second I can get.

Chapter Eleven

I park my car outside of Mason’s building in Carré d’Or on Tuesday. Being here is both an excellent idea and a horrific one at the same time.

Excellent because I’m going in to create content that is going to kick-start my socials. I’m meeting with Mason in his home, giving viewers a look inside his life that he hasn’t given to anyone else. It will go viral. I have no doubt about that.

It’s also horrific because I’m going into his intimate space, talking about clothing, and seeing his wardrobe. I found my crush for him growing over coffee yesterday. I can’t imagine what I’ll feel for him after spending this much time together this afternoon. Alone.

I exhale in frustration but push the feeling down. I promised myself I will enjoy these moments, so I’m going into his flat with that on my mind. I’m working, and if I get to enjoy a side of flirting that is going to go exactly nowhere, so be it. I grab my tote, get out of the car, and make my way into the building. After checking in with the concierge, I’m directed to one of two lifts in the lobby. My anticipation grows as the lift climbs, and I’m nervous and excited by the time it stops and the doors open. I head to Mason’s flat and rap on the door.

“Coming!” he calls out.

I hear the lock turn, and my stomach flips upside down. The door is pulled open, and Mason stands before me, dark and sexy looking, wearing a black Collings Motors T-shirt and jeans. He has the black leather and silver bracelets stacked around his wrist, and he’s barefoot. Mason leans against the door frame, his hand on it, and those espresso-coloured eyes flicker over me.

I lick my lips. His gaze drops there for the briefest of seconds before meeting my eyes again. “Come on in. I’ll give you the tour. Should take about two minutes,” he teases.

I stay still for a moment, studying him. I’m crossing the doorway and stepping into his home.

And everything might change as a result.

I enter the foyer. To my right there is a large, framed vintage poster promoting the Monaco Grand Prix, with a floating shelf underneath it. “I like this poster,” I say, staring at it. Mason moves next to me, and I watch his reflection in the glass. He smiles at it, and I feel myself smiling, too.

“Thank you. I like old posters. Racing and travel. When I find a good one, I get a bit buzzed, actually.”

“You drive a Formula 1 car for a living, but finding vintage travel posters excites you?” I tease.