Chapter 14
Alyssia
“As you can see, the living room is expansive with a beautiful view of the marina,” Isabelle, the real estate agent hired by my new employer, explains as she holds her arms out in the entryway of my new apartment.
Life has moved fast in the three weeks since my interview. Once I told éléanor and the organization that I would take the position, it’s been non-stop.
My new employer was gracious enough to hire a moving company that practically ensured I didn’t have to lift a finger, even when it came to all of the paperwork for my work visas.
Now, I’m working hard to keep my jaw off of the floor as I look around the absurdly spacious luxury apartment Isabelle shows me.
From the entryway, we enter into a living room that could host a party of twenty people, comfortably. The hardwood floors lead to a plush cream couch in the living room, which extends the length of the wall, curving to make room for the floor-to-ceiling window.
There are at least a dozen pillows lined along the couch.
The mirrored coffee table sits on top of a white carpet and brings the look of the living room together.
Nothing comes close to comparing to the view from the sliding glass doors.
Beyond the view of the palm trees and tropical plants, stone buildings, and winding stretch of road, is the sea as far as the eye can see.
A breathtaking sight of cerulean water flows until it turns azure and kisses sky in the distance.
The view is incredibly … romantic.
I shake my head of that thought and turn to stare at Isabelle.
“Are you sure this is right?”
Isabelle’s face contorts into an expression of confusion. “If this is too small, there is an apartment—”
“Too small? You’re kidding, right?”
More pinched brows of bewilderment.
“There’s no way the Jacqueline Reed Foundation can pay for this and my salary.”
“The Jacqueline Reed … they are not—” She’s cut off by a knock on the door, leaving me to guess at what she was about to say.
“Annalise,” Isabelle greets the woman standing at the door.
I know that name.
“Hey, Isabelle, sorry I’m late,” the second woman greets.
When Isabelle steps aside, I come face to face with a woman about my same height at five-seven, light brown almost bronze skin, freckles, and dazzling red hair.
“I can take it from here. Thank you for everything,” she tells Isabelle.
I squint as the pieces of this puzzle start to come together.
“Hello, welcome.” Annalise turns to me, a reserved smile playing on her lips. “I’m—”
“Travis’ sister,” I reply. I shake the hand she offers. “And assistant.”
“My reputation precedes me.” She nods toward the living room. “I’ve come to relieve Isabelle. Well, honestly, I would’ve been here earlier, but I had a few calls I needed to take on behalf of Travis.”
“I bet,” I mumble.
She frowns.
“Then this whole thing,” I wave my hand around, gesturing to the apartment, “is because of your brother?”
Annalise pauses, giving me an assessing once over, before pushing out a heavy breath. “He didn’t tell you?”
I let out a laugh that lacks humor. “I should’ve known.”
I turn to the stare out of the sliding glass doors at the glorious view. However, I don’t see the palm trees, stone buildings, or the windy road that crawls around the entirety of the country.
What I see before me are flashbacks from New York when Travis had casually insisted that I move to Monaco, like it was a move from one city block to another. After I told him that would not be happening, he got deceptively quiet.
“Has he been planning this for a month?” I ask at the same time I recall him mentioning the OB-GYNs that he’d found here in Monaco.
Annalise doesn’t say anything, at first, as she comes up to stand beside me.
“What I’m gathering from the annoyance in your voice is that he never mentioned this is his apartment,” she confirms my suspicions.
I pivot to her.
“I’m not living here.”
There’s no way I can live in this man’s luxurious apartment.
“Does he really expect me just to move in with him? We’re practically strangers.” The words feel foolish coming out of my mouth.
Travis and I aren’t strangers, not anymore. That was destroyed the moment we sat in Dr. Slosher’s office and he held my hand as we listened to our baby’s heartbeat.
Still, we’re not a couple or in any sort of relationship beyond the concerns of our child.
“Is that what you think?”
The question surprises me.
Not so much the question itself but the fact that it’s in response to a comment I hadn’t meant to say out loud.
When my eyes meet Annalise’s again, I can’t help but to think, for a split second, that I’m staring into Travis’ eyes.
His sister’s eyes are hazel whereas his are seafoam but there’s an unmistakable similarity.
Something inside of my chest shifts, and I suddenly wish that it was Travis standing here in front of me, not his sister.
“Travis’ flight from China was delayed,” she tells me. “He wanted to be here, but doubted he’d make it in time, which is why he had me stay back for this race.”
Though she doesn’t speak fast, it still takes my brain time to catch up.
Travis’ second race of the season was in Shanghai this past weekend. We’ve talked a few times and texted frequently as I updated him on my move. As soon as I got the job offer from éléanor, I told him about it and that the job would require a move to Monaco.
He’d been happy but not once did he cop to the fact that he’d gotten me the job in the first place. Nor did he tell me that the apartment I thought the company was renting for me was, in fact, his apartment.
“I’m not doing this,” I say.
“If this place isn’t big enough for you—”
“Why does everyone keep thinking I’m referring to size?”
“He said you don’t like tight, confined spaces,” Annalise easily answers.
I blink, and blink again.
“He’s right, but that’s not the point,” I say more defensively than I want. “It’s not about the size.”
“If you don’t like the view, we can fix that. My place isn’t too far from here, but it’s not directly on the street. It does tend to get loud and crowded here during race weekend.”
“Race weekend?” I ask.
“The Monaco Grand Prix,” she answers. “Race weekend is huge here. Most Monegasques actually leave that weekend because the influx of visitors and tourists becomes overwhelming.”
She gestures toward the glass door.
“You know, because the country’s not that big.”
I’ve only heard about half of what she’s said since she mentioned the race. I look out and down at the road that creeps like a snake around the front of the building. The main road that traverses the entirety of the country. A lump forms in my throat when I think about the twists and turns.
“Travis races on that?” I don’t know where the question comes from.
“You mean the street?” She nods. “Monaco’s the only country where the drivers race around an entire country in an afternoon. Pretty cool, huh?” Excited sparks in her hazel irises.
I’ve done my best to steer clear of finding out about the world of motorsport. But the idea of racing at ridiculously high speeds on that twisty road fills the pit of my stomach with nausea.
“I can’t live here,” I say, my voice barely audible. I repeat myself, this time more forceful.
“There are a few other options. My parents actually have a place here, too. They come often to visit us both and to stay for the European races. I don’t think they would have a problem with switching places.”
Again, it takes a while to process her words.
“No,” I say quickly. “I am not staying in any apartment that Travis or his family owns.” I hold up my hand, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean that to come out the way it sounded.”
Annalise folds her arms and observes me.
“What I meant to say that Travis should’ve spoken to me before he up and decided where I was going to live. That wasn’t his choice to make.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’ll find my own place.”