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’tneed 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.
