Hisgarage?
Dammit, Luca.
Groaning, I cover my face, as if pressing my palms against my cheekbones will keep me from physically combusting. I want toscream.
Instead, I blow out a long breath, count to five in my head, and drop my hands, allowing civility and manners to slip into place.
Calmly, I say, “I’m Evangeline,” then offer a sheepish smile.
I have no idea when Luca last talked to his dad. The man before me may not yet know we broke up.
“I’m Alaric Steele.” His words are clipped and cordial. Impersonal. With a look at his watch, he winces. “Now that introductions are out of the way, I would appreciate an explanation for all this.”
Shit. Is he losing patience with me? His tone is different. His posture has shifted. Is he upset that I broke up with his son? I can’t imagine Luca telling him the truth, but I wouldn’t put it past my ex to blame me for our separation.
Wait.
No.
He hasn’t lost his patience.
His expression is one of cold, calm indifference.
“Evangeline Bennett,” I repeat, including my last name; maybe that’ll help him place me.
Not even a hint of recognition registers on his face. In fact, he presses his lips together and blows air out through his nose, as if he’s ready to tell me to shove off.
Does he really not know who I am?
The niggling in my belly blooms into panic. I’m awful at reading faces and discerning what people are thinking. But something’s off here. Maybe my brain can’t place it, but the alarm bells in my gut are blaring and declaring a state of emergency.
“Evangeline? Luca’sex-girlfriend?” I blurt out, placing extra emphasis on the ex.
Alaric grimaces.
The words form in his mind. I can see it in his eyes. It’s on the tip of his tongue to apologize.
Instead, he breaks into a surprised smile.
“Wait. Bennett… any chance you’re related to Aurelia Miller-Bennett?”
My spirit deflates. Damn. My friends are going to love this one.
This man has no idea that I wasted two years of my life dating his son. Yet just the sound of my last name has him connecting dots between Aurelia and me.
“Yes. Aurelia is my sister.”
Alaric’s face lights up even further. “She’s an outstanding engineer,” he praises. “And she was a hell of a driver, too. I would kill to bring her on at Granata.”
My sister is a lead engineer for Kelly, another Formula 1 team on the grid. It makes sense that he’d link me to Auri. But it’s a shame that’s the only connection that registers.
“Please excuse my earlier confusion. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Evangeline. You said you’re a friend of Luca’s?”
Mortification whooshes inside me. I don’t want to correct him, but what else am I supposed to do? I’m standing in his driveway, moving furniture into his garage. He needs to know the reality of the situation.
A scratchy tingle crawls up my chest, and my neck and face flame. Doesn’t help that I’m still holding a bottle of allergen-laden, half-used lube.
I slow blink to center myself, at least a little, then clarify. “I’m Luca’s ex-girlfriend.”
