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“Are you both forgetting what Elliot Collings thinks about his team in the tabloids?” Mum says sharply.

My tea turns to acid in my stomach. Grandfather is the last hurdle to clear for our relationship.

“My father,” Dad says, “will most likely hate this idea. But it’s up for Catherine to tell him about her relationship. Not us. But at the end of the day, Mason is a damn good driver. We want him racing for us, not against us.”

Dad is right, I realise. Even if Grandfather is furious about this, he knows Mason’s value as one of the most talented drivers in F1.

It doesn’t mean I want to tell him any sooner than needed, however.

Mum looks exasperated. Dad pays more attention to his toast than to her.

I take the opportunity to switch the subject. “I have something else I’d like to talk to you about, Dad,” I say, pausing to take a sip of my latte. “As far as my future at Collings Motors goes.”

“Oh?” he says, looking surprised now. “Do you want me to clear the path for you to join the social media team?”

I shake my head. “No, I’ve never wanted you to just place me on a communications team. And I’ve kind of found something new I’d like to explore. It deals with fashion and merchandising.”

“Really?” Mum says, perking up. “You didn’t mention this all weekend at Monza!”

I decide not to point out that I was navigating her reactions to Mason all weekend and didn’t quite feel like talking about fashion with her. “I wanted to talk to both of you together,” I say. “I know there might not be an opening for me in social media for a while. But I want to do something to help develop a true career path for me. So at first, I thought about launching an F1 fashion social media channel. Where I give followers an inside look into the world of driver and paddock fashion. I could build a platform and maybe have some kind of social media presence. Something that would allow me to use my degree and my creative skillset, whilst working for Caleb at the same time.”

Dad appears thoughtful. “You would be a draw with your name. You have instant recognition, which is huge.”

“Yes, I thought that, too. Actually, that’s how Mason and I started hanging out. He agreed to let me film some fashion things with him. I even arranged for him to receive some designer clothing for a shoot.”

Dad’s brows raise. “Impressive.”

Then I explain what happened whilst I was shopping in Monte Carlo. How I was inspired by women’s wear and started thinking about creating a whole fashion line for Collings Motors specifically catering to the growing female market in F1, and that has shifted my idea of what I want to do from my own fashion social media account to concepting clothing.

“But we have women’s clothing,” Dad says matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but it’s men’s clothing modified for women. Those are not cool, fitted T-shirts you could wear to Pilates or slip under a cardigan and dress up with trousers. I hate my polo shirt, and I have to live in it. Why not make items especially targeting women, and in particular, the growing fan base of younger women? So my question is, if I had some samples made, may I present them to you with the idea of possibly presenting them to the merchandising team? I know I’m not part of that team, but I really think I might be onto something with this.”

Dad nods. “I don’t see any harm in coming up with a sample for me to look at. I can get you a meeting with the merchandising team if I like the idea.”

“I don’t want you to approve anything because I’m your daughter,” I say stubbornly. “I want you to approve it because you like it.”

Dad levels his gaze at me. “I love you, Catherine, but I would never approve a bad idea, even if it came from you. And you can’t just bring me some shirt. I want a presentation. Why you believe this is an opportunity, numbers, examples, fabric details, production costs. I know you do not have a background in merchandising, so I’ll cut you slack on some of it, but you are going to need to convince me. I’m going to let Erin know this is coming on the horizon, too,” he says, referring to the head of merchandising for the team. “And if you want to reach out to them for guidance, start with Erin and let her direct you where to go.”

I can’t stop smiling. “That’s all I want. Just a chance. Thank you.”

“I would also move forward with your fashion social media accounts. It would give you some credibility with the merch team,” Dad says.

He’s right. I should still do that. “I didn’t think of it that way, but I see what you’re saying. I’ll launch that this week and gather fresh content at Baku.”

Dad and Mum begin talking to each other about the next race weekend, and I know I’m being rude because I’m not listening. Instead, my mind is working a mile a minute. I can’t wait to excuse myself from this table.

And dig into the possibility of creating a groundbreaking, fashion-forward women’s line for Collings Motors.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“So what do you think?”

I watch anxiously on Tuesday afternoon as Isla studies the pieces I’ve laid out on my bed. I’ve pinned the Collings Motors logo on several pieces where I want them affixed to each garment, and Isla is picking up each item and studying it. She’s not saying anything, but pulling on the fabric, putting her hand underneath to see if it shows through, reading the labels.

Seriously, asking a reporter to give me feedback on the first concepts for my capsule collection is like the smartest thing I ever could have done.

And also the scariest, because Isla will be brutally honest. Which is good. And terrifying.