Fuck. She’s hustling like this, running specials on her services, because of Luca’s transgressions.
“The special ends on the thirtieth. All the information is on my website, and that’s linked in my bio. I’m Evangeline. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. Don’t forget to love your brain a little extra today. Until next time.”
She’s still grinning when she taps her phone screen and flicks off the light.
I hold my breath, still utterly entranced by her.
She was incredible. A natural. So compelling and fun to watch.
But as she takes her phone out of the holder and unclips the ring light, her expression morphing completely, my excitement plummets.
She grips the side of the kitchen island, her face almost sagging and her shoulders slumped. Then she drops her head forward, practically collapsing against the countertop, and heaves out an exhausted, miserable groan.
CHAPTER 20
ALARIC
“Evangeline.”
I’m around the counter and by her side before she even has time to lift her head.
Resting my open palm on her lower back, I crouch and survey her face.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Are you all right?”
She forces the air out of her lungs in a slow, shaky exhale. Then she tips her head to the side, the move causing her pale blond hair to shift, exposing watery, weary eyes.
“I’m fine,” she says, her trembling belying that statement. “Just exhausted, overwhelmed, and honestly mortified that you had to see that.”
I startle, straightening. “Mortified by what?”
“Mortified by all this.” She huffs out a little cry, sweeping her hand around the room at the mess. “And that you saw me during a live. I know it’s cringe, but I really do make a good amount of money this way. There’s very little overhead, and I’ve done it consistently for close to three years now, which is a lot longer than I can say for most of the big ideas I’ve had in my lifetime.”
She sighs, the sound utterly defeated.
It takes everything in me not to wrap her in my arms and give her the biggest hug. She doesn’t have to justify anything to me. I loathe that she feels compelled to defend what I just witnessed.
“Wait,” she says, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “You’re not upset about misappropriation of time, are you? I used a flex day. Ipromise I cleared it with Mauricio first. Oh god—is that why you’re here?”
Instinctively, I smooth my hand up the length of her spine, then cup her neck and squeeze lightly.
“You’re fine,” I insist. “None of this is an issue.” Scanning her setup, I marvel at how clever she is to create a business like this. “But I can’t let another minute pass without saying something.”
She presses her lips together, warily meeting my gaze.
“What I witnessed was nothing short of magnificent. You’re so good on camera.”
She blinks and forces down a swallow.
“I know I’m good at it,” she whispers, “but it’s still exhausting. And sometimes, like right now, I hate it.”
She props her elbows on the countertop and rests her head in her hands.
“I honestly wish you hadn’t have seen that.”
I clamp my mouth shut and clench my fist at my side to keep myself from arguing. I’m honored to have witnessed her in her element. But it’s clear she really is tired, and I certainly don’t want to prolong her night or make her feel any worse.
“Hi, by the way,” she eventually says, peeking up at me through those impossibly long lashes.
