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I sat in on meetings at uni when I was doing digital media, but this is the very first professional meeting I’m handling on my own. I review once again the things I want to talk about. The questions I want to ask. I’m confident, but this is a bit scary. Even if I had gotten a job on the social media team, I would have been at the bottom. I would have sat in on a number of meetings for who knows how long before I had to handle one on my own.

But I’m smart. I’m here to learn. And to show someone in marketing that I care about this company’s future and want to reach a whole new fan base with my concept.

More people come in and out, going up and down the stairs, and I wait a good fifteen minutes past my appointment time before I see a woman approaching me. She’s near my age, I’d guess, and has caramel-coloured hair that hangs long and straight. She’s wearing a wine-coloured pencil skirt and short-sleeved black jumper.

“Hello, Catherine, I’m Marissa,” she says brightly, extending her hand to me. “I’ll take you up to meet with Nicola.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, rising and shaking her hand. “And thank you so much.”

“Are you going to be spending some time here at headquarters?” she asks as we begin to walk up the stairs.

“I’m just here today. I’ll fly back to Monaco tonight.”

“I see.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting Nicola,” I say. “I appreciate her squeezing me in so soon.”

“Yes, that’s an exception. She’s so busy. But of course, she’s very happy to meet with you this morning.”

Hmm. Is that an honest comment? Or alluding to the fact that she was happy to meet with Catherine Collings?

I can’t control that narrative, so I ignore it. Instead, I do what we Brits stereotypically do best. “I hope the rain holds off this afternoon,” I say.

We dive into a conversation about the weather, which gets us to the top of the stairs. I follow Marissa down a corridor and reach an open workspace with glass-walled offices surrounding it. She looks into an office and I recognise Nicola from the website video. She’s talking on the phone at the moment, so Marissa turns to me. “You can sit over there whilst you wait,” she says, inclining her head to some chairs and a sofa to my right.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like a coffee or tea, water?”

“No, thank you,” I say, smiling at her.

“Okay. She’ll get you when she’s ready.” Marissa moves to her desk, which is directly across from a young blonde woman typing on her laptop.

I look around. The directors and managers have offices, and everyone else is in the open space, working and talking. I take a seat, and I see some swivelling heads and people eyeing me with curiosity.

I think about having to come here every day, if I were a part of this team. Not travelling with Caleb, Mason, and their teams. Never spending time in a paddock.

I don’t want that. Whatever role I carve out for myself, if I’m able to do that, will need to be remote. Maybe I’ll work in Surrey whenever Mason does. Or one or two days a week. I know my name might give me an assist in this area. But I am willing to work hard and prove I can be a valuable asset, whether it’s from Monaco or in a paddock.

A few minutes later, I see Nicola step out of her office. Her eyes immediately shift to the conversation area, and she smiles brightly at me. “Well, this is a pleasure,” she says as she comes towards me. “Hello, Catherine.”

I smile as I rise to greet her. I ignore the curious stares and stay focused on making a good impression. “Nicola, thank you for making time for me this morning,” I say, shaking her hand. I quickly appraise her. I’d say she’s in her early forties, with choppy blonde hair and green eyes. She’s wearing a deep-purple silky button-down blouse and a black midi skirt. Her jewellery is simple, just some small hoop earrings on her ears.

“Come on into my office,” she says, leading me back to it. She gestures for me to walk in first.

“Thank you,” I say, watching her close the door and make her way to her glass desk. I take a seat in the chair across from it.

“My pleasure,” she says, sitting down across from me and reaching for her coffee. “So how can I help you today?”

“Well, I currently work for my brother as his assistant,” I begin. “I travel with him to every race. I wear the team kit, and I see a lot of visitors and guests who come to our motorhome, people in the paddock, and of course, the fans at the track.”

Her eyes remain locked on my face, and I see curiosity brimming in them. As in, why is Catherine Collings in my office telling me this?

“I know you know the female demographic of F1 fans is exploding. And it’s skewing younger, with forty-three percent being under the age of thirty-five,” I say, remembering every line from the pitch I crafted. “But if you look through our retail selections, we aren’t doing anything to target them.”

“We do have women’s offerings on our website, along with unisex options, like cute bucket hats.”

“Absolutely. But I’m talking about more fashion-forward pieces to appeal to younger fans. They don’t want a polo shirt that has been modified for women. I feel we can offer so much more than a Collings Motors logo T-shirt with a scoop neck.”