Chapter 12
Alyssia
“Girl, your baby daddy is loaded!” Kandace screeches into the phone.
Two weeks after my appointment with Dr. Slosher, I stand in my bedroom, turning from front to side, deciding if the blazer I’ve decided to wear for this job interview is too tight. At ten and a half weeks pregnant, it fits well enough that I can button it over the white blouse I’ve chosen.
Luckily, this interview is a video call. If I make it to the next round, it’ll probably be in person.
I can’t believe in a couple of weeks I’ll be out of my first trimester.
“Will you stop calling him that,” I scold my best friend while I put on my only pair of diamond studs.
“That’s what he is, isn’t he?” Kandace throws back at me.
“I thought you were supposed to be helping me prepare for this interview.”
I have a video interview with the Jacqueline Reed Foundation today. I spent my time on bedrest applying to as many jobs as I could find and even reaching out to the emails of a few names I heard the night of the gala.
My work paid off.
In two hours, I have my first-round interview for a market researcher position.
Kandace agreed to help me prepare, but for the past ten minutes she’s been doing an internet search of Travis and telling me just about everything she’s found.
“His family, too. We’re talking eleven figure net worth loaded. And oh shit, a few years ago his uncle, some CEO named Aaron Townsend, literally bought a library and named it after his wife.”
“What?” In spite of myself, I take a seat on the edge of my bed.
“Yeah, but that’s not even the extent of their legacy. Travis’ father is a former NFL god, Tyler Townsend. Did you know that?”
My stomach does a little flip.
“I did know that. He told me.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t know more about his family. You’re usually the first one looking things up or doing an internet search. Do you remember when I first told you about Patrick? You had that man’s work history, employer, and childhood address by the end of the night.”
Kandace and I both laugh. She’s not wrong. That day, junior year of college, she told me she’d met a guy online that she really liked, I went to work looking him up.
That was more than six years ago, and they’ve been married for two years now.
“I did some research, of course,” I tell her.
“Not enough to know that his family is super loaded enough to buy and name libraries after themselves. His dad’s also a sports commentator on Prime Sports Network. Have you—”
“No,” I reply, knowing what she’s going to ask. “You know I don’t pay attention to sports.”
“Right, but that was before you got pregnant by a professional athlete.”
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. My stomach muscles tighten. In the past two weeks since finding out what Travis does for a living, I’ve done my best to avoid or ignore it altogether.
Hence, my lack of internet investigation.
“I’ve been preoccupied with this job search,” I remind her.
“What for? With money like that, he can take care of you and three of your babies without blinking.”
“We’re not having three babies. Just one. And I don’t need him to take care of me. Just the baby.”
Kandace blows out a breath, groaning. “Oh no, is he stingy? Is that why you didn’t tell me how rich he is?”
“No,” I say a little too defensively.
“Don’t be embarrassed if he is. It’s not your fault. Not all rich guys are generous with what they have. The bastards. I mean, you’re having his baby, the least he could do is—”
“He’s been generous, Kandace,” I cut her off but neglect to tell her how he basically threatened to uproot my life and whisk me to Monaco to put me and the baby up.
Not to mention that many other ways he’s used his money to damn near take over my life in the past two weeks.
“Besides, I know enough about him and his life,” I says, more to assure myself than her.
“Are you sure he’s not a bum and you’re not telling me about it?” she asks suspiciously.
I snort-laugh unintentionally. “If paying my rent for the next two months is him being ungenerous than, yeah, he’s been that.”
“Truthfully?”
“I went to pay rent the other day and got notification that it’s been taken care of. Both Gina’s and my portion by the way. When I called and asked, he said it was the least he could do.”
“How did you respond?”
“I hung up on him,” I admit, half-ashamed, half-still annoyed by his overreach. “The man is insistent on paying for my life.”
While I know it’s not something I should complain about, given how many women would love to be in my position, to have all of their financial woes taken care of, I find myself annoyed, even if a little grateful.
It’s hard to explain to others that the part of my life that I pride myself on the most, feels like he’s trying to take away or at least chip away at.
Which is why today’s job interview is especially important to me.
“Anyway, he left a couple of days ago.” I hesitate. “The first race of his season is coming up.”
She makes a sound at the back of her throat. “How are you doing with that?”
“The distance is far, but he did text me when he arrived in Australia.”
“I’m not talking about the distance.” Kandace pauses before asking, “Have you talked to him about what happened to you?”
My grip tightens on the phone.
“He knows my parents are gone,” I say.
“Does he know how they died?”
“For what? It’s not like he’ll quit his job and become an office worker or something like that.”
“But if he knows that you were in a car accident that killed you parents and—”
“It wasn’t just a car accident,” I remind her. “My life was ruined by a couple of clowns who thought they could play Fast & Furious on the streets ordinary people use to get to and from work, and take their kids to school, and drive home from their family date nights.”
Family date night. That’s what my dad had called our family outing every Wednesday night.
He’d implemented the tradition for our family of three when I turned seven.
No matter what, every Wednesday it had been just the three us going out to a museum, a play, an exhibit, or even a picnic in the park.
I had no idea that one random Wednesday night when I was fourteen would be the end of it all.
A shiver runs through me, and I to blink to force the tears away.
“Formula 1 isn’t the same as what happened to your family,” Kandace explains.
“I have an interview I need to prepare for. Can you help me with these questions, please?”
There’s a pause.
“Okay.” She sighs. “Tell me why you want to work for the Jacqueline Reed Foundation?”
“Can you tell us about a project that you worked on with your previous employer that you’re particularly proud of completing?” Virginia Simone, a human resource representative, asks as I sit at the desk in my living room.
Along with Virginia, there’s one other HR person on the call.
“Yes, well, in my two years at Williams and Co., Marketing, I worked on many projects that spanned budgets from low six figures to mid-seven figures. However, my proudest accomplishment was in working as a researcher for our largest client.
“Initially, the foundation believed we could only bring in a low six figure amount from this particular event. However, once I looked over the reports from the previous five years, I found some areas where I believed if we tapped into, we could bring in a great deal more.”
“Such as?” Virginia asks.
My smile turns genuine since I enjoy talking about this particular project and what we were able to accomplish.
I feel my back get straighter as I talk about the strategies I’ve implemented with my past employers to get the results they were looking for. Non-profit work has been the basis of all of my employment since graduating college with my degree in psychology.
Though, I don’t work in a therapeutic setting, it still feels good to know that the work I do makes a positive impact on the world around me.
This sense must come through in my responses because Virginia responds with an, “Impressive,” after I finish speaking.
“We would love to have you work with us but—”
My stomach plummets and I struggle to maintain the professional smile when a chiming sound alerts us that someone new is tapping into the conference call.
The last time an unexpected visitor popped in on a call, I got laid off. How can I lose something I haven’t secured yet?
“Here she is now,” Virginia chirps, happily. Was she expecting this interruption?
“éléanor,” Virginia greets as a fourth box on the screen appears.
I immediately recognize her from the gala.
“Thank you for attending in my place, Emanuel,” she says.
A second later the guy who’d mostly been silent exits the interview with a brief smile my way.
éléanor’s sparkling brown eyes meet mine. “Hello, Alyssia, I’m éléanor Decaen. My apologies for being late. There’s so much happening with the first race of the season coming up this weekend.”
“Hello, éléanor. It’s a pleasure,” I respond, unsure of what to say next.
As far as I know she doesn’t work for the Jacqueline Reed Foundation.
She frowns. “Virginia, did you not tell her?”
“We didn’t have time. I was too enthralled with listening to all of Alyssia’s accomplishments,” Virginia gushes.
“Excuse me?” I interject. “What’s this about?”
éléanor smiles. “I beg your pardon. I’m sure this is confusing,” she starts.
“The Jacqueline Reed Foundation and the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile are working in tandem this season to grow our charitable events this year and increase funding for programs to support young people who want to enter in the fields of engineering.”
I nod. “That’s wonderful.”
“Yes, it is, and from what Virginia and I discussed looking over your resumé, your experience would fit in with our team. We are in need of a market researcher to help spark our Formula 1 base of fans.”
The mention of Formula 1 causes my smile to wobble until it slips away completely.
“Formula 1 as in the motorsport?” If éléanor hears the shakiness in my voice, she does a good job of ignoring it.
“Yes, we are the premiere motorsport in the world,” she enthusiastically replies before explaining what exactly Formula 1.
“I could speak about our sport for hours but that’s not what this call is about. Your resume is quite impressive,” she tells me.
“Thank you.”
I do my best to focus on the question when éléanor asks me to elaborate on a specific experience that focused on increasing STEM scholarships to young girls in NYC.
As I answer, I flex and bend my fingers, out of the sight of the camera to work through the tension that’d coiled inside of my body at the mention of Formula 1.
At the very least, even if I am hired for this position, my job wouldn’t have to do with the sport itself. More like aiding in the increase of charitable donations that will go to worthy causes on behalf of the FIA. That’s all.
It’s not like I’d be asked to attend a race or meet the drivers or anything like that.
An image of Travis flashes across my mind. That intense look in his eyes that I’ve yet to figure out.
“Your position will be a mix of contributing to our overall marketing efforts through research, strategy creation, and implementation, and a little bit of on-site participation when needed.”
éléanor pauses and looks at me expectedly.
“I’m sorry.” I glance between Virginia and éléanor who seem to be three steps ahead of me. “My position?”
“Yes, I am prepared to offer you the role of market researcher for the newly formed charitable division of Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile.”
“I-I—” Surprise makes it difficult to squeeze out a response.
None of my previous positions have moved this quickly. There’s almost always at least a follow-up interview.
“Then I would become an employee of the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile?”
“Technically, you will be in a contract position for the Jacqueline Reed Foundation,” Virginia explains. “Since it’s a joint venture, your team will be comprised of FIA employees and employees from our organization,” she explains.
“That’s great,” I say.
It’s a little bit of a bummer that it’s only a contract role which means I’ll have to cover my own insurance, but I can negotiate my rate.
Also, if I could work from home, that would be awesome, but éléanor did mention some ‘hands-on’ tasks, so I suppose working from home won’t be an everyday thing.
“Wonderful,” éléanor exclaims.
Then I remember that it’s best to get some important information known up front.
“I should let you know that I’m pregnant,” I say, my gaze shifting between éléanor and Virginia.
To my surprise, her smile grows.
“Félicitations.”
“Merci beaucoup,” I immediately respond, shocking éléanor again.
"Est-ce que vous parlez francais?”
“Oui,” I answer her question, asking if I speak French.
“Yes, that’s right. I read that on your résumé. You spent a year living in Paris?” she asks in French.
“Yes, I studied abroad during my sophomore year in college,” I reply in the same language.
“This is excellent. What a great find you are,” she almost squeals. “And to think I thought this might pose an issue.”
I frown, wondering what she’s talking about, but what she says next makes my jaw drop.
“You will fit in very well in the Monaco office.”
“Excuse me? Monaco?”