Chapter 23
Alyssia
“Mhmm, I’ve been craving this all day.” I rub my hands together as the waiter places my bacon, spinach, and tomato sandwich in front of me.
Across from the square table Jeanette, the project manager of our team, chuckles, while Gabriel, seated to my left, also swoons when her bacon and gorgonzola salad is placed in front of her.
It’s the Monday after Travis’ Miami race and my colleagues and I have gone to a café and sandwich shop not too far from our office for lunch.
“That looks amazing,” Gabriel says to Rachel, the fourth member of our quartet, looking over at my sandwich. “I should’ve gotten that.”
“Do you want a piece of mine?” I offer.
She holds up her hand and shakes her head. “I could never steal food from a pregnant woman.”
We all chuckle. “You’re not stealing since I offered.”
She’s adamant though. “I’ll just have my soup because I need to keep my figure to fit into my dress for the gala.”
My hands stop, halfway to my mouth. “Dress? Are you going to the gala?”
Three pairs of eyes hone in on me.
I move my gaze to all three of them. “What?”
“You have started looking for dresses, no?” Jeanette asks. “The gala is in July to kick off the summer festival.”
I nod. “I know when the date is.” I hesitate in reminding her that over the past few weeks I’ve been the one gathering the data to find out what works best in appealing to said donors who will be in attendance at the gala.
“Then you should also know you need a dress.”
“But I, uh, wasn’t planning on attending. Most of the time in my previous work projects I rarely was asked to attend the events I did research for.”
Jeanette shakes her head. “Not this time. We are a small office with a lot of responsibility. Our donors and the administrators at the main office want to make sure we are pulling our weight. Which means …”
“Showing up to the gala,” Gabriel adds with a small frown. “I didn’t like the idea either,” she tells me. “I became head of social media to stay behind the camera, but it has its advantages.”
“Don’t worry, Alyssia,” Rachel assures. “After the Monaco Grand Prix, you will have met everyone anyway.”
My stomach drops.
Travis and the entire circuit have one more race in North America before their return to Europe, starting, of course, with Monaco. Over the past two months I’ve tried to push it to the back of my mind.
I’m ashamed to admit that although I always congratulate Travis on his races, I’ve yet to actually watch a full one. I just look up the last few minutes or search the race results.
“You must be excited to see your first race in person,” Gabriel chimes.
“The Monaco race is a spectacular race,” Rachel adds before I can answer. “What if Travis wins? I’ll bet he’ll do it just because he knows you’re in the audience.”
I look down at the sandwich I’ve only taken two bites of so far. I was so damn excited about this meal and now the thought of eating the rest of it nearly makes me nauseous.
“He had bad luck in Monaco last year,” Jeanette adds. “Got clipped early on and never quite regained his momentum.”
“Max won that race, didn’t he?”
“Yes, such a surprise given the car he was driving. Kr?mer’s a little better this year,” Jeanette answers.
“But Max is good. I’m surprised he’s not in contention for the championship,” Isable says.
Jeanette waves a dismissive hand. “He’s living off of his father’s name. We all know that.”
I don’t have the heart to ask who or what it is they’re talking about.
“At any rate,” Jeanette continues. “Alyssia, you knew attending the Monaco race was a requirement also, correct? I mean, the children from our program will be there and we all have to meet them. They wrote letters and are so excited about attending the race and learning about the cars.”
“Yes, yes.” I nod.
I leave out the part where I’d been hoping to avoid attending the actual race. But, I mean, in a country that’s just over two kilometers wide, I suppose it can’t totally be avoided.
“Excellent,” Jeanette continues. “Because we’ve all helped to make this vision possible. And with Gabriel spreading awareness through our social media channels, I believe this will set us up for even larger donations in the future.”
Jeanette’s right. The charity we have teamed up with for the Monaco event will do a lot to improve our visibility and bring in more interested donors.
“That is enough about work,” Gabriel suddenly says. “Alyssia, you must be excited that Travis is coming home today, no?”
My eyebrows raise in surprise.
“He’s already home. He met me at the train station this morning,” I say without giving it much thought.
All eyes fall on me.
“He must’ve gotten in late,” Isabel says. “Skyland hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Skyland?” I ask. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.
Again, the entire table looks at me as if I should know better.
Isabel nods. “Skyland Grant. Travis’ teammate at Amato. We are seeing each other.”
“Oh.”
Isabel frowns down at her plate. “He is not having as great a season as Travis, though. But he will turn it around.” Her face brightens. “I am certain.”
Now the name does ring a bell. Travis has mentioned his teammate once or twice before in conversation. Guilt washes over me as I realize how little I know about Travis’ world.
The least I could do is ask about the people on his team.
“You will meet them all at the Monaco race,” Jeanette says. “And your uncles, no?” she asks.
I’d almost forgotten about my uncles’ visit. “Yes, they’ll arrive a week before the race.”
“You will bring them, right?”
“Uh, I don’t know if tickets are still available,” I lie. I hadn’t even thought about it, and my uncles hadn’t mentioned attending the race. We mostly have talked about the baby and how the pregnancy is progressing.
“It shouldn’t be any problem to get them tickets. I will give you a list of some restaurants and places to go over in France and Italy not many people who come here know about, to take them.”
“Thank you. My uncles love exploring new places. They’ll be happy to get out and see everything.”
“And with Travis with you, you’ll be able to access many places easily. We love him in Monaco.”
As soon as she says that, a rippling sensation flits across my lower abdomen. I let out a tiny gasp when I realize it’s the baby moving.
This isn’t the first time this has happened, but it’s the first time I didn’t have to pause and question what was happening. I part my lips to tell the women at my table, but stop myself.
The person I want to share this feeling, this sensation with isn’t here.
Why couldn’t you have moved when he was walking me to work this morning? I silently ask, as if the baby can answer.
As the conversation moves on to other topics, I quietly ask the baby to do this again tomorrow morning, when we’ll see his daddy again.
That thought has my heart sinking. After more than three days separated, tiny slices of time seeing Travis during our morning walks around the marina don’t feel like enough.