It was a cool day, and after several hours of work, Kelly had insisted on taking you on a surprise date. You agreed, expecting a calm ride, but the moment she hit the accelerator, you realized you were in for anything but peace. Because Kelly Jones and a Formula 1 driver were practically the same thing.

The engine roars, and the scenery starts to blur around you. You grip the seat, trying to keep your composure, but your tense hands on the armrest betray you. Even though you try to smile, all you can think is: “I shouldn’t have accepted this date.”

Of course, Kelly quickly notices your thinly veiled panic. With a teasing smile, she glances at you. Didn’t you say you weren’t afraid of speed?

Before you can respond, she presses down harder on the accelerator, as if testing your limits. You cling to the seatbelt, wishing the seat would swallow you.

She laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction. Seriously, you can handle 3 or 4 Gs during a launch, but you can’t handle going 120 kilometers per hour with me? Tsk, tsk. And here I thought you could handle anything. I look like a Formula 1 driver, don’t I?

She glances at you for a second, lowering her sunglasses just enough to peer at you over the top, then winks. Oh, this woman…