Page 87
I use the retina scanner to enter the penthouse, and the first thing I do is call out, “Hello?” My voice practically echoes off the marble floor as I’m met with silence.
The whole family is in Monaco this week, but I’m grateful to come home to an empty house. I’m fine with Dad, but things with Mum are very tense right now and I’d rather not deal with her. We have been reduced to polite conversation, and I’ve repeatedly had to cut her off when she tries to corner me about the evils of dating Mason.
I don’t want to hear it. Especially when I’m so happy this week.
I retreat to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I’ve launched my new social media channel with the name “Paddock Chic.” I started on Monday with my Xavier feature, and yep, it went viral. He shared it, along with Isla, Caleb, Mason and—to my surprise—a lot of other drivers on the grid. Hadleigh got her Miami sports girlfriends to comment and share as well, and I took off on the first day. I posted Mason today, and Caleb will be the feature tomorrow. I dragged him shoe shopping and shot a feature on what kind of trainers he likes. I admit, it’s the weakest out of the three, but it’s Caleb. I consider it a miracle I got him to do it at all.
Every time I check my account, it’s racked up more views, more comments, more follows. The plan is working.
Sohan Perrin asked for a meeting prior to Mason’s fitting, and their PR department definitely wants to work with us and loan clothing for Mason to use. I’m taking him there next week to try on clothes, which I’ll record. If he likes the clothing and it looks good on him, we’ll schedule a meeting for a clothing deal. I found an embroiderer here in Monaco, approved the embroidery stitch-outs for the capsule collection, and I’ll have those clothing pieces delivered on Monday.
And then there is the shirt I had made.
I put the garment bag on my bed and eagerly unzip it, revealing the cropped, ruched Collings Motors logo T-shirt. It turned out exactly as I wanted. I tried it on at the tailor, and I can’t stop looking at it. Marciel did a magical job. It fits perfectly.
Thursday will be my T-shirt reveal day in the Baku paddock. I told Caleb I’ll be travelling with him, but taking the weekend off, therefore I don’t have to wear the team kit.
I’m going to show Nicola, Marissa, and that entire marketing department I am not just some nepo baby they have to indulge with a project. I’m a woman who knows what I’m talking about, and my ideas are good ones they should explore.
I decide to change into the T-shirt and snap a selfie to send to Mason. I’m going to see him tonight, but I can’t wait to get his reaction. I peel out of the shirt I have on and pull the custom T-shirt on over my head, then retie the sides and walk into my bathroom, turning on the lights.
It looks perfect on me.
It’s fun. Youthful. Sexy. Great for a hot day. I’m wearing it with jeans right now, and I love the look. This is exactly how I’m going to wear it when I walk into the paddock. I snap a selfie and send the pic to Mason with a text:
Preview of my outfit on Thursday. Do you like?
Then I put down my phone, knowing full well Mason’s going to do more than like it.
He’s going to love it.
Within seconds, my phone vibrates on the marble worktop. I tap on his message:
Baby, that shirt is HOT.
I knew it!
Mason Clark is typing …
Why don’t you come over wearing that and I’ll help you untie it?
Mason Clark is typing …
Using my teeth.
HELLO! I get an image of Mason pinning me to his bed, his body covering mine, and his mouth exploring my body until he gets to the ties on the shirt and playfully pulls on them with his teeth. His facial scruff would graze against my exposed skin, his mouth hot as he explores me—
I quickly type back:
When can I come over?
Mason responds within seconds:
NOW. And wear that shirt.
Ooh, yes! I retrieve my backpack and throw in some essentials for an overnight stay. I’ll also need a shirt to change into, because I want to keep this one in pristine condition for Thursday. I’m just packing my toiletries bag into my backpack when I hear my phone ring on the worktop. I don’t get a lot of calls, so that gets my attention. I look down at the screen on my iPhone.
It’s Grandfather.
