6. Wes #2
“What about other days? Wendy’s seems a bit tame.”
“Elizabeth Jacobs,” I say. “Are you trying to get dirt on me?”
She shrugs, but her eyes are bright. “Just wondering if all those rumors about a gambling problem and a sex addiction are true.”
I cough. “Well damn, Jacobs.” She said it so casually—her alto voice smooth as ever, as if it’s no big deal to admit that you’ve been reading scandalous rumors about the person you’re sitting across a conference table from.
Then again, I suppose it really isn’t a big deal to her.
She makes a living sweeping people’s vices and bad decisions under the rug.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her demeanor shifting from sharp cheekiness back to cool professional. But I don’t miss that calling her by her last name doesn’t immediately piss her off. “I shouldn’t have asked that. It’s none of my business.”
“I’d rather someone ask me directly than believe what they read online,” I say. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a problem or an addiction, but I have enjoyed both gambling and sex. It’d be fair to call them previous vices.”
“But not anymore?”
I shake my head. “I’m reformed these days.”
My phone buzzes with a response from Lu that’s just a bunch of exclamation points. I smile at it, then look back at Elizabeth. “So what about you? Any vices?”
“Of course not.”
“Not even corporal punishment?” I watch, fascinated, as her eyes brighten again—this time with what might be amusement.
“You mean my feet.”
“Yes, your poor, ravaged feet. Did you only pack heels?”
She sighs, letting her oh-so put together mask slip.
Suddenly, I can see the jet lag and exhaustion all over her.
I’m used to switching time zones and performing no matter the time or weather.
But for someone who has never had to do this before?
And who is helping us navigate a legitimate scandal?
I can’t imagine how overwhelming this must be.
“I only had ten minutes to pack,” she says. “I have a pair of heels and a pair of running shoes. There hasn’t been time to go shopping.”
Well, shit. I hadn’t considered that. “You should have time tomorrow.”
Elizabeth doesn’t respond, choosing to tap at her phone screen instead. After a couple of moments, she says, “Pretzels dipped in Trader Joe’s cookie butter.”
“That’s your vice?”
She looks up from her screen, her icy gaze meeting mine. “One of them.”
I resist a shiver, but can’t do a damn thing about the goosebumps that pop up across my skin.
“While we’re being civil,” she says. “It was very cool of you to go to the hospital last night.”
“It’s the only place I wanted to be. I needed to show my face at the post-race party, but I left as soon as I could.”
Elizabeth nods. “It was also cool of you to recommend Lu.”
“Careful, Jacobs. You might admit that you think I’m cool.”
She levels a censuring look at me. “You did two cool things. I hardly think that makes you cool.”
“Fair enough. But Lu deserves it. Putting her forward was the least I could do. Now it’s all up to her.”
“Do you really think Marcus and Albrecht will bring her on?” She asks the question lightly, but there’s a cynical note that tells me she doesn’t believe they will.
I take a deep breath. “I think it will be hard for them to pass on her if she outperforms Freddie. It’s only a matter of time until a team signs a woman driver.
There will be a ton of pressure on the woman who has that honor.
But I truly think Lu deserves it. More than that, I think she can handle it.
” I give it a beat, then add, “Plus, Freddie is a little bitch, and Lu isn’t. ”
Elizabeth laughs, looking as surprised at her own open amusement as I do.
“So you do laugh.”
“Alert the presses, Elizabeth Jacobs is capable of emotions,” she quips, and this time I’m the one laughing. It shouldn’t surprise me that hers is a dry wit, wry and self-deprecating. But given how ferocious she’s been, I couldn’t fathom her cracking a joke.
Here she is now, though, making me laugh.
“Think we should ask David to plant a few stories?” I ask.
“I can see the headline now: Frigid bitch laughs, a sign that nature is healing.”
Something about her calling herself a frigid bitch doesn’t sit right with me.
Does she really think that? Or is it something she’s heard so often she’s accepted it as fact?
But rather than voicing these questions and risking her thinking I’m playing therapist, I say, “Girl boss cracks joke, earth heats by another degree.”
“Hold on,” Elizabeth says. “I’m now responsible for global warming?”
“Directly linked to the polar ice caps, I’m afraid.”
“Well then, no more smiling and laughing for me. I refuse to be the reason penguins have nowhere to live.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know that penguins live in the southern hemisphere. It’ll just be the arctic foxes and hares, polar bears, reindeer, narwhals, a variety of wolves, snowy owls—”
“My God, Wes,” Elizabeth says, and I swear I can feel my entire cerebral cortex light up at the sound of my name coming out of her mouth. “Fine, I’ll admit I was never great at biology.”
“Or geography, it seems.”
She fixes a glare on me that makes me wonder precisely how many men she’s brought to their knees. “I have other strengths.”
“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”
“No,” she says, all confidence. “I wouldn’t.”
The door opens, and David pokes his head in. “Freddie and Lu have both agreed to the sim evaluations. We’re done for the day.”
“Cool,” I say, clapping my hands together. “I’ll see you in Jeddah, then?”
“That you will,” David says. “And Elizabeth, I’ll see you at the airport on Wednesday.”
“What about tomorrow? What time should we catch up?”
“I think we could both use some time off,” he says. “Relax for a day, yeah?”
Elizabeth laughs humorlessly. “I’m not sure I’ve been relaxed a day in my life, but sure.”
“No wonder you’re so good at your job,” I quip, and David laughs, adding, “Us comms professionals are an anxious breed, it’s true.”
“Well,” I say, standing from my chair. “I’ll let you guys stress in peace.”
As I leave the conference room, my thoughts race with my growing to-do list. I need to check in with Adrien. I need to train with Camden. I need to call Lu and make it very clear to her that she needs to have the sim session of her life tomorrow.
And I definitely need to stop thinking about what other vices Elizabeth Jacobs has.