Chapter 19
ALARIC
Ishouldn’t be here. In fact, I don’t know what the fuck I think I’m doing here.
Yet I can’t.
Maybe it’s because after spending so much time together on the bus ride to and from the animal sanctuary, I haven’t laid eyes on Evangeline at all today.
Or it could be Mick’s email. The one informing me that she hasn’t responded to him regarding this week’s menu.
Neither of those realities justifies my actions.
Yet here I am. Standing in front of my son’s ex-girlfriend’s hotel room. My son’s ex-girlfriend, who is also my subordinate. This is wild and reckless behavior.
But every time I force myself down to the end of the hall, to the elevators, I can’t push the button.
My concerns aren’t entirely self-centered.
When I checked in with Mauricio, he mentioned that Evangeline was using a flex day.
That in and of itself is not remarkable.
Our leadership is encouraged to accommodate employee time off requests that don’t interfere with business operations, and they all know to notify me if they receive a request that falls into a gray area so I can make the final call.
I’m changing the reputation at Granata from the inside. Doing what I can to support the staff. To give them time to rest and recover.
Between long travel schedules and time changes, it’s only fair. The first few days of the week are the ideal time to recharge, because we’re about to gear up for this week’s grand prix.
Evangeline isn’t the only employee using flex time today, I’m sure, but it’s been raining all day, so I can’t imagine many would be exploring Suzuka.
The niggling concern in my gut won’t leave me alone. What if she’s sick?
She’s mentioned her food allergies, and I know she has aversions to consider as well.
Plus, there’s the original excuse I found for seeking her out.
I can’t, for the life of me, find the fidget she made me in Australia.
Granata performed extremely well last weekend, exceeding my expectations and the expectations of the media and analysts. Everything is coming up roses, and the outlook for this weekend’s race looks great. Or it did until I realized I was missing my lucky charm.
I texted Sophie, assuming Ollie swiped it after all.
But the little goober swears he doesn’t have it.
What am I going to do? Argue with a five-year-old or insist my pregnant ex-wife questions her kids further?
Evangeline made it seem like making the fidget was no big deal. She makes them for all her friends, after all.
My plan was to find her in the cafeteria and request she make me another one when she has the time. Obviously, I didn’t find her. That’s how I learned of her flex day in the first place.
Tomorrow, I’ve got a full day of media and press. My schedule is jam packed. The prospect of not seeing Evangeline until Friday at the earliest was too depressing. So I did a little investigating and found her room number.
She gave me the fidget before qualifying last week, so I’d feel better having the replacement before we head into the practice sessions on Friday.
I pause in front of room 607 once more, planting my feet wide and squaring my shoulders.
This is fine. I can do this. I’ll stand here, in the hall, to make my request.
Sure, this could have been an email, but she’s using her flex time, so out of respect, I chose not to contact her that way. Yet somehow I didn’t consider whether showing up at her door is respecting her time.
I’m so out of my depth here.
It’s wrong to even know which room is hers. Having access to the manifest for the hotel is a perk that I truly never planned to use when I was promoted. And yet here I fucking am.
I survey the bank of elevators one more time.
Then, decidedly, I knock in what I hope is a nonthreatening way on her door.
On the other side of the solid wood, she’s talking, but her tone is conversational. She’s not calling out to me.
Maybe she isn’t alone. A pang of jealousy strikes me like lightning at the thought. Why does that bother me?
I shake my head to clear it. She’s friendly with a number of drivers and other people around the paddock. I have no right to even think about who my employees could be associating with on their own time.
As her voice drifts closer, another thought occurs to me.
What if it’s Luca?
Panic claws up my neck, forcing me to tug on the collar of my polo. With trembling fingers, I undo the top button.
I cannot be caught visiting Evangeline’s hotel room by my son.
What the hell am I even doing here?
I’m turning on my heel, prepared to jog toward the elevators, when the sound of a dead bolt unlocking snags my attention and my heart lurches.
Too late.
Spinning back around, I find Evangeline standing before me, wearing a headset and holding her cell phone at arm’s length.
She’s smiling into the phone, her face lit up by the small circular light attached to it, but as she looks up at me, shock and confusion mar her expression.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can, she gives me a quick, tense shake of her head.
Focusing back on her phone, she smiles again, saying, “Honestly, that’s one of my favorite combinations right now. I love using these softer filaments. The designs create more of a tactile experience.
“Don’t forget, for every ten orders we get by the end of the hour, we’ll earn another spin of the wheel, and every person who ordered will reap those rewards.”
Her voice is higher, with a falsetto I’ve never heard from her.
It hits me as I watch her. She’s not just talking to someone; she’s talking to lots of people.
This must be one of her live streams.
I shift forward to get her attention so I can pantomime that I don’t need anything after all. But when she notices, she waves her free hand, gesturing me into the room.
“Oh, wow. An order from Oregon. Thank you so much, Sully P.”
“There’s another. Thanks, Carol M. I cannot wait to put grab bags together for you. All right, friends,” she goes on, “we’re at eight orders. We’re only two away from spinning that wheel.”
She peers up at me once more.
With a frantic wave of my hands, I hold her attention. “I’ll go,” I silently mouth.
Rather than nod like I expect, she scowls.
We’re at a standstill, each of us holding our ground, refusing to compromise.
She takes another step away from the door, forcing me to stick my arm out so it doesn’t slam shut in my face, and waves me in again.
My god, the temptation is strong.
But I cannot enter her room. I am her boss. Hell, I’m her boss’s boss’s boss. She’s my employee. And she’s got to be, what? Close to twenty years younger than me?
There’s no fucking way.
“I’m going to head back to my setup,” she says to her audience. “I’m crossing all my fingers and toes that we can get two more orders. We’ve still got two minutes. What do you guys think? Can we do it?”
I’m entranced by her beaming smile and zest for her goal. I’m having a hard time not smiling to myself as I drink her in.
Eyes widening, she freezes. “Oh my gosh. Wait a minute. Wait a darn minute. One, two, three… Yes! We did it. Thank you so much Cecilia, Randy, and Michael. You’re the best!” she chirps. “Okay, let me hurry over to the prize wheel. Stick with me…”
I’m only slightly embarrassed when she glances my way, catching me staring, giving a meaningful lift of one of her brows.
Dammit. I’m distracting her. She shouldn’t have to worry about me or switch her attention back and forth.
My presence is making what she’s doing harder, and that is the opposite of my intent.
I either stay or go. If I stand in the doorway, I’ll only continue to draw her attention away from her task. And at this point, I’m deeply invested. I can’t not follow through. With that thought, I lurch forward, following her into the room.
She walks backward, presumably to ensure I don’t appear on camera.
All the while, she’s laser focused, laughing and smiling as she replies to comments, her pale skin illuminated by that light on her phone.
She’s wearing that bold red lipstick and her eyelashes look extra long and dark today, really emphasizing the pretty topaz hue of her eyes.
Observing her this way is like having a front-row seat to a performance.
As she navigates the room backward, she bumps into the island in the kitchenette area and winces.
Traditionally, Japanese hotel rooms are small, but Leslie secured mini suites for the whole team.
As I step deeper into the space and look around, I realize how fortunate we are for that. Evangeline has work supplies spread out on every surface.
I don’t know where to focus first.
She sets her phone on a stand set up on the island, still chatting with her viewers. Behind her, two machines buzz and whir. 3D printers, I imagine.
The counters are covered in bowls of colorful trinkets and loose beads.
And sure enough, in the middle of the island is a prize wheel.
“Here we go!” she cheers. “Remember, every person who placed an order today gets whatever the wheel lands on. I’m so excited for you all.” Clapping, she bounces on her toes.
“I’ll wait another thirty seconds for those of you who still want to get in on what’s up for grabs.
It might be free personalization or free shipping,” she tells them.
“Or maybe one of my favorite prizes: a free mystery item with every order. That was a popular one a few weeks ago. You know I love to see your fidgets in the wild, so don’t forget to tag @ATizketATasket when you share on socials. I appreciate you all so, so much.”
I can’t look away.
She’s mesmerizing. I have no idea how many people are watching this stream, but there’s no way she isn’t commanding their attention the way she’s commanding mine.
It’s not just her natural beauty. That doesn’t hurt, but it’s the genuine enthusiasm radiating off her. It’s the way she calls people by name. Her genuine giddiness.
“Okay, I think we’re ready,” she singsongs.
Rather than spin, she brings her face a little closer to her phone.
“Oh my gosh,” she says. “Six more orders just came in. You all are the best. This has to be close to the biggest live stream I’ve done all year.
I seriously cannot thank you enough.” Her lips wobble a little, but that smile is still in place.
“Okay, it’s officially wheel time. Are we ready?
Give me some likes if you want me to spin this wheel. ”
She pauses, drawing out the anticipation.
Then, grinning, she claps a few times, does a sweet little hop, lifts the wheel so it faces the camera, and gives it a hearty spin.
“Let’s see. Let’s see. What’s it going to be?” When it finally comes to a stop, she shrieks. “Free personalization with every order today. Incredible!”
She pauses again, this time to take in a big breath. But then she picks up right where she left off, as enthusiastic as ever.
“For those of you who have purchased today, if you did not request personalization, go back into your order and send me a message. Do it now because the sale closes out at midnight. If you already paid for personalization on any of your items, that will be refunded in the next one to two business days.”
She grins, scanning comments.
“This has been such an incredible night, friends. Thank you for joining me. I’m so, so glad you’re here.
Don’t forget, our regular coworking schedule is available in the member portal.
And, as always, your first body-doubling session is free, so if you’ve never checked it out, please come give it a try. ”
Though she’s still bright and cheerful, her tone is a little more businesslike as she goes on.
“When you join a body-doubling session, there are no expectations or requirements. You can keep your camera off, or you can share what you’re working on, but you certainly don’t have to. If you’re considering, this is the time, because I’m running a special on my annual memberships.
“If you have been a monthly subscriber and upgrade, you’ll also benefit. You’ll get twelve months of continual membership service for the price of ten. This is literally the best deal I have ever offered.”
I wince at that.
Fuck. She’s hustling like this, running specials on her services, because of Luca’s transgressions.
“The special ends on the thirtieth. All the information is on my website, and that’s linked in my bio. I’m Evangeline. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. Don’t forget to love your brain a little extra today. Until next time.”
She’s still grinning when she taps her phone screen and flicks off the light.
I hold my breath, still utterly entranced by her.
She was incredible. A natural. So compelling and fun to watch.
But as she takes her phone out of the holder and unclips the ring light, her expression morphing completely, my excitement plummets.
She grips the side of the kitchen island, her face almost sagging and her shoulders slumped. Then she drops her head forward, practically collapsing against the countertop, and heaves out an exhausted, miserable groan.