Chapter 16 Tacos and Tender Moments
Tacos and Tender Moments
Evelyn
Evelyn stood at the entrance of the converted Shoreditch warehouse and tried to remember how to breathe.
The space had been transformed. Fairy lights draped across exposed brick walls, casting a warm glow that made everything feel softer, more intimate.
Round tables dotted the open floor plan, each one decorated with centrepieces that somehow managed to be festive without being tacky—a minor miracle in corporate event planning.
The live band was setting up in the corner, their equipment nestled among strategically placed poinsettias and evergreen garlands.
It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
And Evelyn had no idea what to do with herself.
“Stop fidgeting,” Maggie said, appearing at her elbow with two glasses of champagne. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”
“I’m not fidgeting,” Evelyn protested, immediately stilling her hands, which had been smoothing down her dress for the third time in as many minutes.
“You’re fidgeting,” Maggie confirmed, pressing a glass into her hand. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
Evelyn took a sip, more to have something to do than because she wanted it. The champagne was good—Alyssa had insisted on upgrading from the standard corporate swill—and it did help settle the nervous flutter in her stomach.
“Where is Alyssa?” Maggie asked, scanning the room.
“Probably micromanaging the catering staff,” Evelyn said. “She’s been in full event coordinator mode since we arrived.”
“She pulled this off in less than two weeks,” Maggie said admiringly. “That woman is a force of nature.”
Evelyn couldn’t argue with that.
The first employees started trickling in, and Evelyn felt her shoulders tense. This was it. The moment she’d find out if all their frantic planning had been worth it. It was where she’d find out if she stacked up against her dad and his impeccable party-planning reputation.
Tom from graphic design was one of the first through the door, his eyes widening as he took in the space. “Holy shit,” he said, then immediately looked mortified. “Sorry, I mean—this is incredible, Ms Crawford.”
“Evelyn,” she corrected automatically. “And thank you. Though I can’t take credit. This was mostly Alyssa’s vision.”
“The dog lady?” Tom grinned. “She’s brilliant.”
More people arrived, and Evelyn found herself swept into a series of conversations that all blurred together.
Everyone seemed genuinely excited, which was both gratifying and slightly overwhelming.
She smiled, nodded, made small talk about the decorations and the menu and wasn’t the venue just wonderful?
It was exhausting.
Her mother had been good at this—moving through a crowd, making everyone feel seen and valued. Roslyn Crawford could work a room like nobody’s business, finding the exact right thing to say to put people at ease.
Evelyn had never quite mastered that skill. And after her mother died, she’d stopped trying.
“You’re doing the thing,” a familiar voice said behind her.
Evelyn turned to find Alyssa, looking unfairly gorgeous in a deep green dress that brought out the warmth in her eyes. Bug was at her side, sporting a festive bow tie that matched Alyssa’s outfit.
“What thing?” Evelyn asked.
“The thing where you smile and nod but you’re not actually present,” Alyssa said. “Your eyes glaze over a bit. It’s very subtle, but I’ve gotten good at reading you.”
Evelyn felt heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m fine.”
“You’re overwhelmed,” Alyssa corrected gently. “Which is completely understandable. This is a lot.”
“I used to be better at this,” Evelyn admitted. “Before—”
She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to.
Alyssa’s expression softened. “Your mum would be proud of you, you know. This party, what you’re building here—it’s exactly the kind of thing she would have loved.”
Evelyn swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. “I’m not sure about that.”
“I am,” Alyssa said firmly. “Now come on. Let’s go check on the Festive Fusion Tacos. I need to know if they’re living up to the hype.”
The catering station was mobbed. Evelyn watched in amazement as her normally reserved accounting department descended on the taco bar like a pack of very polite locusts.
“I told you they’d be a hit,” Alyssa said smugly.
“You were right,” Evelyn conceded. “About a lot of things, actually.”
“I’m going to need that in writing,” Alyssa teased.
The band started playing—something upbeat and jazzy that immediately got people moving toward the makeshift dance floor. Evelyn watched as her employees, people she saw every day in their professional capacity, transformed into actual human beings having actual fun.
It was strange. Wonderful, but strange.
“Dance with me,” Alyssa said suddenly.
Evelyn blinked. “What?”
“Dance with me,” Alyssa repeated, holding out her hand. “You’ve been standing on the sidelines all night. Time to actually participate in your own party.”
“I don’t really dance,” Evelyn protested weakly.
“Neither do I,” Alyssa said.
Against her better judgment, Evelyn took Alyssa’s hand.
The dance floor was already crowded with people from various departments, all mixing together in a way that would have been unthinkable at a normal work function.
Marketing was dancing with IT. Accounting was attempting some kind of coordinated line dance with HR.
It was chaotic and joyful and completely ridiculous.
Evelyn loved it.
They danced through two songs before Bug decided he’d been patient long enough and inserted himself between them, demanding attention.
“Subtle as always,” Alyssa muttered, but she was smiling as she bent down to pet him. “You should be at home with your friends.”
Evelyn excused herself to check on the other aspects of the party, moving through the crowd with slightly more confidence than before. She stopped to chat with various employees, and this time, she actually listened. Actually engaged.
Tom cornered her near the dessert table, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “The marketing team wants to do a photo booth,” he said. “Can we? Please? I brought props.”
“You brought props to a Christmas party?” Evelyn asked, amused despite herself.
“I’m always prepared,” Tom said seriously. “I have reindeer antlers, Santa hats, and—” he pulled something from his bag with a flourish, “—matching ugly Christmas sweaters for anyone who wants them.”
“That’s…” Evelyn searched for the right word. “Extremely thorough.”
“So can we?” Tom asked hopefully.
Evelyn glanced around, finding Alyssa across the room. Their eyes met, and Alyssa gave her a small nod of encouragement.
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “Set it up near the entrance. And make sure Bug gets his own photo session.”
Tom’s face lit up like she’d just given him the best gift of his life. “You’re the best boss ever!”
He scampered off, and Evelyn found herself smiling.
The party continued, and Evelyn found herself relaxing into it.
She sampled the Festive Fusion Tacos (which were, admittedly, delicious).
She judged an impromptu ugly sweater contest that Tom had organised.
She even participated in a group photo where Bug sat front and centre, looking incredibly pleased with himself.
At one point, she found herself standing next to Maggie, both of them watching the dance floor.
“You did good, kid,” Maggie said.
“Alyssa did good,” Evelyn corrected.
“You both did,” Maggie said firmly. “Your mother would have loved this. The energy, the connection, the way everyone’s actually talking to each other instead of hiding in their departmental silos.”
Evelyn felt that familiar ache in her chest, but this time it was accompanied by something else. Something that felt almost like peace.
“I miss her,” Evelyn said quietly.
“I know,” Maggie replied. “But she’s here, in a way. In the way you’re leading this company. In the way you brought everyone together tonight. That’s her legacy, Evelyn. And you’re honouring it.”
Evelyn blinked rapidly, refusing to cry at her own Christmas party. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Maggie said. “Now go dance with that lovely woman who’s been making heart eyes at you all night.”
“She has not—” Evelyn started, but Maggie was already walking away, leaving her flustered and more than a little warm.
She found Alyssa near the catering station, deep in conversation with the chef about the success of the menu. Bug was at her feet, looking hopeful for dropped food.
“Everything okay?” Alyssa asked when she noticed Evelyn approaching.
“Everything’s perfect,” Evelyn said, and meant it.
The band announced their final song of the night, something slow and sweet that had couples pairing off across the dance floor.
“One more dance?” Alyssa asked, holding out her hand.
Evelyn took it without hesitation.
This time, when they moved together, Evelyn wasn’t thinking about her employees watching, or what it might look like, or whether she was doing it right. She was just present in the moment, with Alyssa’s hand warm in hers and Bug sitting nearby like the world’s most attentive chaperone.
“Thank you,” Evelyn said softly. “For everything. For helping with the party, for pushing me out of my comfort zone, for—” she hesitated, then continued, “—for reminding me how to be me again.”
Alyssa’s expression was impossibly tender. “You never stopped being you, Evelyn.”
The song ended, and the band announced they were wrapping up. Employees started gathering their things, calling out goodbyes, thanking Evelyn for a wonderful evening.
Evelyn accepted their thanks with genuine warmth, surprised by how much she meant it when she said she was glad they’d enjoyed themselves.
As the crowd thinned, Alyssa started coordinating cleanup with the venue staff. Evelyn watched her work, marvelling at how effortlessly she moved through the space, how naturally she took charge.
“Stop staring,” Maggie said, appearing at her elbow again. “It’s obvious.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Evelyn said primly.