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“The red lights are turning on. Beep!” Mason teases, mimicking the sound they use on TV.

“Stop it!” I laugh. “You’re pressuring me!”

“Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!” Mason continues, then pauses as if all five lights are lit up.

“Lobster tacos!” I blurt out at the same time as he declares, “Lights out!”

Now we’re both laughing.

“Is that what you really want, or did I pressure you into a false announcement?”

I look at him, revelling in how funny he is. Mason always seems fun in the garage, but this is so much more than I ever anticipated he would be. He’s clever. Playful.

I didn’t even know I liked playful in a man until tonight.

And I like it more than I should.

Our waiter returns, setting down wonderfully blistered peppers and fluffy bao buns stuffed with luxurious caviar. He takes our orders, and we both tuck in to the starters.

“Okay,” Mason says. “Don’t think I’m distracted by food. You have to give up a skeleton to me.”

I pause. I could play this totally safe, but Mason revealed a lot with the skeleton he shared.

I think of my relationship with my mum. Only Caleb and my dad know the truth about how I feel. What if Mason doesn’t understand it? What if he judges me for it? Thinks less of me, just when he’s starting to think more?

I swallow hard.

“Catherine, hey. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to,” Mason reassures me, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

Just like that, I know. For the first time in my life, I’m going to share my own skeleton.

And I only hope Mason won’t think less of me after he hears it.

Chapter Eight

“Okay, I’m giving you a skeleton,” I say, trying to act braver than I feel. I pause and look around the posh restaurant. Nobody is staring at us. Everyone is involved in their own conversations and meals. It is Monaco, after all. Rich and powerful people are everywhere. Mason is not a novelty here, nor is my last name. I decide it’s safe for me to continue. “I know you know my family history with Collings Motors. Specifically, the one with my mum.”

Mason’s handsome face shifts into one of empathy. “I do.”

I pause for a moment. He doesn’t look uncomfortable with the topic, nor does he immediately say he’s sorry. Mason simply acknowledges the past and sits back, letting me share my story and my emotions first.

I didn’t realise I needed this until he just gave me this response. No jumping in with pity, no telling me his own family story to force a shared emotion. He’s just going to listen.

It’s a gift.

And it’s one I’m brave enough to unwrap tonight.

“That was the most painful thing I’ve ever gone through,” I confess. “I always considered the Collings Motors F1 team my family. As a teenager, I jumped at any chance I got to travel with the family on race weekends. My favourite driver was Lars. I loved Lars. He was always so great to me whenever I was in the paddock. Now I know why.” I smile wryly. “He was screwing my mum.”

Mason remains silent, telling me he’s going to give me the space to share whatever I want to share.

“When the affair came out, it was devastating. It ripped apart my family. And my F1 family—most people don’t understand that, but I know you do. I travelled with the team all summer. I cheered for him hard on qualifying. I wanted to see him win not just for the team, but for him, as a person.

“So when the affair was blasted across the tabloids, I was betrayed by two people I cared about,” I continue. “And my dad … he was gutted. Blindsided, humiliated. I was so angry about how he was treated. Like if Mum was that unhappy, just get a divorce, you know?”

Mason nods. I pause and reach for my champagne, taking a sip. “Our lives were turned upside down. I hated Lars, but I hated my mum even more. Then Dad shared Mum’s texts with Lars with a tabloid, and I had photographers trying to follow me, shouting the worst things, hoping I’d react.”

“That,” Mason says, his eyes flashing and his voice low, “is disgusting. You were a kid. You had nothing to do with that, and your reaction wasn’t needed to sell a damn story.”