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My heart quickens as I replay his words in my head. I touched him last night, I know I did. If he were any other driver on the grid, he might ask me out.

But my last name is Collings.

I bite my lip. My family signs his cheques. He reports to my dad. My brain knows this can’t happen. Mason is working too hard to keep his number-one position to risk it to date me.

And what would my family think if I were to date a Collings Motors driver? They’d think it’s a line I shouldn’t cross, that’s what.

So what exactly am I doing? Why am I flirting with danger like this? Just so I can find out how incredible Mason is and never have a chance to see what it would be like to date him? So my heart can twinge every time I hear whispers of a hook-up with someone in the paddock?

So I can wait until he falls for another girl and I’m photographing her walking into the paddock to support him and putting her up on my socials, talking about her fashion?

That last thought makes my latte turn to acid in the pit of my stomach.

Stop it, I tell myself. I had one fantastic night out with Mason, and I need to leave it at that. I promised myself I was moving forward after the summer break. I might have taken a massive detour last night, but I need to go back to my original plan.

Which means putting my stupid crush on Mason Clark in a box, sealing it with duct tape, throwing it in the back of my wardrobe, and forgetting it ever existed in the first place.

I clear my throat, square my shoulders, and continue my walk until I reach my destination—Sohan Perrin, the uber-luxe menswear label. They have boutiques in exactly three cities in the world: Monte Carlo, Paris, and London. I’m obsessed with their clothing.

I remove my sunglasses and open the door. I’ve been in this boutique before with Caleb. It’s done in a minimalist style, with concrete floors. The clothing is carefully and artfully arranged, equally spaced on racks, and it’s more like walking through an art gallery than a shop.

A shop associate quickly comes over to greet me. “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” I say before shifting to English. “I’m Catherine Collings with the Collings Motors F1 team. I’m here because I would like to use some Sohan Perrin clothing to dress one of our drivers for social media content.”

Her eyes light up. “Oh yes, okay.”

“May I speak with the manager?” I ask.

I know it’s a bold move, coming in without an appointment, but I’m still living with the “fortune favours the bold” mantra.

I also know my name carries some nice weight to it in Monaco.

“Let me see if she’s available,” the shop associate says. “Would you like something to drink whilst you wait?”

“Oh no, I’m good,” I say, holding up my latte.

She nods and retreats to the back of the store. I begin wandering around, and soon I’m standing in front of a navy sweatshirt with two stripes on the left sleeve. This would look so good on Mason! I finger the fabric with my free hand, and even though it’s a sweatshirt, the fabric is luxurious. Soft. Thick.

I put a little tick mark by that in my head and continue to browse, mentally pulling a collection together for Mason. I find a grey blouson jacket I’m in love with. A pair of dark-wash jeans. I’m looking over a white T-shirt to go under the jacket when I hear heels clicking across the concrete floor.

The shop associate has returned with another woman, who is tall and elegantly dressed in a pair of black trousers and an exquisite black ruffled blouse. Her black and grey-streaked hair is pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and a beautiful charm necklace is a stunning accessory.

Ooh, I really like that necklace, I think as she approaches. I might need to steal that idea for myself.

The woman smiles warmly at me. “Hello, how are you? I’m Angelique, the manager here,” she says in French as she extends her hand to me.

“I’m Catherine Collings,” I reply in French, giving her a firm handshake in return. I speak next in English. “I would like to talk to you about borrowing some clothing for one of our drivers, Mason Clark.”

“Of course, come on back and we can discuss in private,” she says.

“Thank you,” I say.

I follow her through the showroom and spot another jumper I’d like to get a closer look at. Angelique opens a door to another room, and it’s a posh dressing area for clients with a curved, modern black sofa and two armless black velvet chairs.

“Have a seat,” she says. I take one of the chairs, and she sits down on the sofa across from me. “How can we help Mr. Clark?”

“Let me start by saying I’m beginning a new venture by working with drivers and fashion,” I say. “I’m going to cover F1 fashion on my own social media channels. I’ll highlight what drivers wear when they first walk into the paddock. But I’ll also do fashion features, and I want to do one on Mason Clark. A feature called ‘Dress the Driver.’ I already have a nice following on Connectivity, TikTok, and Instagram, and I expect the new platforms to grow quickly when I feature paddock fashion. Of course, I would completely detail what each piece is and credit Sohan Perrin.”