Evelyn Page 13

  “Sorry. Thought I’d deter you for the night. You probably didn’t want to be out in public with a vlogger chasing you down, right?”

  “Is it your new henchman? The guy at the table? Did he make the cut?” He leaned in a bit toward him. “You don’t want me to meet him yet?”

  “We’ll see.” Loïc shrugged. “He gets distracted from his objective easily. His qualifications are sound, though.” He straightened and squared off of his shoulders. His dismissive tone deepened into something darker, more intense. “We’ve a lot of new people lingering around, including yours and she hasn’t been fully vetted yet. We’re in a vulnerable position for you to be taking in an unknown.”

  “I’ve a hunch about her.”

  Loïc groaned. “Your hunches are why your score is low now, you know? Is this going to be another botch failure?”

  “You should be afraid. She’s not one to be messed with, and you’ve just pissed her off.” He was toying with him, as he couldn’t imagine Evelyn doing anything to harm anyone. She was too good for that. He’d only known her the one day, but he had a good feeling about her personality. He had been wrong before, but something told him he was right. Besides, Soma liked her, which was rare. Soma rarely was okay with anyone in the house besides them. He paused, turned and locked eyes with Loïc. “You didn’t say anything to my date?”

  He smirked. “We never lie, Ace. Part of the rules. You should be more concerned about why she would be so rattled by someone who didn’t say a word, nor looked at her.”

  Ace paused and then cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look?”

  “I could tell she was looking directly at me, so to avoid having to say hello, I didn’t look at her at all.”

  That suddenly made sense. Ace broke into a grin. “Well, then you just pissed her off is all. That’s not the sort of girl you can just ignore.”

  Loïc paused for a moment, and then surprised Ace as he broke his usual indifferent face with the tiniest of satisfied expressions. “I see.”

  Ugh. He thought he was always so smart. “What do you think you know?”

  “A lot more than you.”

  “You’ve not said a word to her.”

  “No. I don’t have to. You’re right. She is interesting.” He started walking around Ace and put his hand on the door. “I’m even willing to make a wager. I bet I can steal her from you.”

  Ace held his breath. It was the distraction he was looking for, hoping Loïc would be thrown off by a smart, attractive girl who had such values and heart. However, he anticipated Loïc would have taken more time to get to know her before jumping to this.

  And Ace suddenly didn’t want this. Getting him interested, maybe even trying to pursue her, sure, but not a wager. “You don’t know one thing about her.”

  “I know her type.”

  “I doubt it.”

  Loïc cocked an eyebrow. “How so?”

  Ace twisted his lips and shook his head. He was goading him, getting under his skin. He shouldn’t be so eager in coming to her defense, but it annoyed Ace to have him talk about her like that. “We agreed a long time ago to stop targeting each other. It leads to problems like Crazy Hotel Girl.”

  “True, but let’s look at evening the score a little. I’m ahead. Don’t you want a chance to catch up?”

  This did interest Ace. Loïc had always started ahead, because he invented the game. “What do you want?”

  Loïc smirked. “I’ll bet you a clean slate that even after you try to woo her with your money and your charm that I can still get her on my side. Isn’t that the ultimate humbling act? Doesn’t that beat forcing a man to admit to his wife that he was cheating? Isn’t it better than getting a CEO to confess to underpaying his workers and turning in his bonus to give a better living wage? Maybe it is time to humble the humble-invokers. Let this girl decide which hero wins her to their side.”

  “You try to paint a pretty picture for yourself, but what we do is blackmail and deceive, even if we ended up agreeing to do so for good causes.”

  “You’re getting off point.” His eyes sparked. “Unless you don’t have enough confidence in her that she’ll stay with you.”

  Ace laughed and shook his head. “After tonight, you may have put her on my side for good.”

  “That shows how little you know about women.” He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. “They always want what eludes them. It’s why you chase me.” He opened the door and stepped out.

  Ace stood in the bathroom for a moment, reconsidering his position.

  Loïc never bragged about his abilities before, but he never before seemed as interested in someone Ace had brought in. He usually thought the girl was boring.

  Eva was different, and Ace knew that. She had gumption, ambition, and she had a kind heart. She seemed incorruptible. Just gullible at times.

  It wasn’t often they got a girl they both seemed to like involved. Eventually they learned what Loïc and Ace were up to, and they often didn’t like it.

  Usually because they had something to hide. Loïc often discovered it first and was quick to point it out. It was rare to meet someone clean, who genuinely valued their good deeds. They usually did it for other motives or had something they were guilty of without remorse.

  Eva seemed different. He wasn’t sure how, but he was willing to bet she’d be into the game once she knew what they were up to.

  Although, he wasn’t so sure she’d be into his style of it. Loïc was careful, more meticulous. Ace acted on impulse. Often, they needed each other to balance themselves out, but often it was Loïc who proved to be the success, getting points for every humbling act they forced someone to do—to better someone or something else their selfishness had harmed.

  Bored, rich boys who had nothing better to do than betting the people around them—people they could reach in their circles, who could often do a lot of damage. It was a better pursuit than Ace had come across, which is why he stuck with it, even if he was always losing. The score just kept it a little competitive.

  Suddenly, the door opened again, and Ace stepped toward it, ready to leave.

  Loïc appeared again. His eyes wide. He moved right to Ace gripping his arm in a way that forced Ace to follow. Loïc may have been leaner, but he knew pressure points and how to make a person move when he wanted.

  Loïc shoved Ace into a stall, closed the door and then turned, pulling his cell phone out and typing into it.

  “What are you doing?” Ace asked. “What’s going?”

  “Your new stalker is here.” He held the phone to his ear, simultaneously holding a couple of fingers over Ace’s mouth in a stern, silent gesture before Ace could ask more. “Oliver. It’s time to put your talents to use in a real test. Outside of the restaurant, in the lobby, is the girl you were eyeballing all night. I want you to talk to her and convince her to leave with you. Take her in your car, drive her around the block for a short while. I’ll tell you when to return her and where. If she resists, press upon her that this is an emergency. Her date, Ace, insists.”

  Ace had no disagreement with this. Getting Eva out was a top priority. Getting themselves out was secondary, and much more complicated.

  “Oh, one more thing,” Loïc said in the darkest of voices. One Ace rarely heard and Loïc only invoked when it was important. “I do not want the girl harmed, in any shape or form. Do not ask her anything personal. Is that clear?” He silenced for a moment, long enough for Ace to hear a confirmation on the other end. “Do it.” He hung up.

  Ace frowned. “Do you trust your new assistant?”

  Loïc sighed. “Scientifically cloning Soma may actually be less work and prove easier than finding someone as good as he was in my employ.”

  Ace grinned. “Too bad he decided to work with me.”

  Loïc shrugged, stuffing the phone back into his suit jacket pocket. “For now. You just proved to need the most help. He always had a soft spot for the underdog.”

  The door to the bat
hroom opened. Loïc held still, and Ace picked his feet up, standing crouched on the toilet.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been trapped in close quarters with Loïc. While they were competitive, on the rare occasion, they worked together and had been in much more awkward situations.

  Now they just had to figure out a way to get rid of Psycho Girl. This might have been one person they needed to humble quickly, but in the meantime, they needed to get away from her.

  Trendy

  (Eva)

  I spaced out for a couple of moments, considering my options.

  I’d tell Ace that Loïc didn’t seem interested in me, but he might if I knew more about him. Mostly, I wanted to secure what he could actually do for me, that all this effort, the risk of humiliation, was because he could actually do as promised. Get me off the hook in Atlanta. I’d try my best. I’d promised and I didn’t want to fail at keeping my promise.

  I didn’t want to admit that I wanted to get to know this Loïc for myself. The setback had been minor, but the more I thought about him, the more determined I was to get his attention. If he liked women at all, I wanted him to look at me. I wanted his honest opinion. Why, I wasn’t sure. It was to challenge Ace’s attitude about my appearance, an outside perspective to tell me flat out. Vanity. Sheer vanity. It shouldn’t matter. Why did it?

  If I couldn’t make it happen to Ace’s advantage, I was ready to offer Ace anything to make things fair. I wanted something I could renegotiate. Let me work part time, helping Soma. Let me find work and then pay him back every penny he would spend on me for defending me.

  I sat on the settee, and while spacing out, was joined shortly by two other women. At first, I was so zoned out I hadn’t paid any attention, until one of them next to me started smacking lips, and huffing impatiently. The jarring noises in a posh and respectable place was infiltrating my senses.

  The girl was model tall, with long legs in thin, white pants that seemed painted onto her hips. Her halter top was gold sequin barely held together by string, with the V dip in the front low enough that her belly button was playing peekaboo.

  Loads of side boob. No bra.

  She had bleached herself to blonde hair, and her face was a stiff mask of layered highlighter and contoured outlandishly to give herself no nostrils.

  She held her phone up, scrolling through Instagram, mostly selfies of people wear various clothing options and twisting her lips. Occasionally she looked up at the hostess who was talking to other guests.

  The hostess seemed to ignore the girl. She even sat people ahead of her and her friend.

  Purposefully snubbing. I had seen this before at other places. Either the hostess was making her wait a little longer than necessary, or the hostess was really ticked and making her wait endlessly for a table that would never be ready.

  Was it the clothes? They were revealing, but the dining room had probably seen worse. I leaned over, spotting her friend on the edge, looking nervous. She wore a skintight beige dress. The color was horrible, matching too close to her skin tone so that she seemed nude if you weren’t looking directly at her.

  Fashion varied widely wherever one went, so what passed as in vogue in places like California wouldn’t be considered the same in the southern states. I gazed back into the dining room, noting the mostly conservative crowd, although in some cases, the women wore slacks and a more casual blouse.

  Their attire was far more set for a club than this restaurant.

  Outside of that, it was clear the material of what they wore wasn’t fitted well. The glittering gold on the taller girl’s halter was missing in a few spots, and a thread was showing around the shoulder. She’d chosen to wear gold underwear, too. They were visible under her clothes. This wasn’t about fashion; this was about showing off her body as much as possible in public. So why be here? To lure a rich guy? Was that why they were waiting?

  Still, none of my business. Where was Ace?

  The woman next to me stopped her scrolling at a gaudy rhinestone covered bikini that didn’t give any sort of coverage. She liked it, and then scrolled further down to a picture of a wraparound shirt. She opened it, clicked on it to go to the shop that had it for sale.

  I took one look at the store’s name, and I cringed and made a choking noise. I hadn’t meant to. It was a reflex.

  She caught me and raised her eyebrows. “Do you know them? Are they pricey?” she asked. Her thick lips seemed cartoony with how colorful they were. Her tone was snarky but curious of my opinion.

  “It isn’t the price,” I said, wishing I could bite my tongue but also unable to help myself. I pointed to the site’s logo and then to the information section. “Check their about page.”

  She tapped on it and then scrolled down. “Two girls started a shop...” she read and then paused at the looming paragraph. She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, do I have to read the whole thing?”

  “Look,” I said and pointed at the last line. “They drop ship imports out of very poor Asian countries, from unverified factories.”

  She brightened. “That means cheap, right?”

  I could feel my skin crawl. “If you don’t mind your outfits smelling like fish, tearing into pieces after you first wear them, and the materials made possibly by little children. Their site is fancy but the quality stinks.”

  “I don’t like fish,” she said, and smacked her lips and sighed. “So hard to find inexpensive clothes that still look good.”

  “A $100 shirt of quality will last longer than a $20 shirt you can only wear once before it falls apart,” I said. “There’s an Etsy shop that has similar stuff to what you’re wearing now. A little more for each piece, but you’ll never find another person wearing it.”

  She widened her eyes and held out her phone. “Show me?”

  I went to the right shop I had come across before, a small indie designer who took fashion trends off of Instagram and tried to handmake them using recycled materials from thrift shops. Each piece was one of a kind. She often had too skimpy of outfits for me, but I always liked her charisma and her approach to recycling materials so they didn’t go to landfills. I passed the phone back to the girl next to me. “If you tell her what you like...”

  Suddenly, her friend in the nude dress sat up sharply. She sucked in a breath and then passed her phone to her friend. “Zoey...”

  “Shhh,” Zoey turned to the girl, pursing her lips and brows crunching as she glared at her. “Don’t say my real name. Remember?”

  “Sorry. What was it? London?”

  “Paris,” Zoey seethed.

  Her friend displayed her phone. “You’ll laugh.”

  The phone was close enough I could see what was there, and I froze, horrified. My breath caught.

  It was my face, expanded in a Facebook post. The photo showed me as pale, but it was one I had shared on Instagram. I’d been sick but on the mend, so I wanted to let people know I’d be back soon.

  There was another picture below it of my ex, one of his best photos showing off his abs after a workout.

  There were hundreds of comments, and I didn’t catch any directly, but I did note the laughing and angry emoticons.

  “What a freak,” the other girl said. “How could he not tell she was snorting pills?”

  Zoey adjusted the strap of her halter, making her boobs shake, and smacked lips and then laughed. “Single now. Maybe we should go back to Atlanta.”

  “Emily,” a deep voice said across the room.

  I turned, grateful for the thick layer of makeup to possibly hide any blushing. I needed to get out of here.

  It really had gotten out of control. People had no idea...I was the one snorting? What in the world lies had been spread? But of course, it was the internet. Lies spread like wildfire and no one cared. It was just boredom and avoiding reality seeping in—get the drama then move on to the next. They’d forget about it in a week.

  Only, it was happening to me. Now.

  I stood, ready to get out of here with
Ace, ready to leave when I spotted Loïc’s dinner companion. He was taller than I imagined, but it was the way his lightweight, black polyester turtleneck defined the muscles in his chest and stomach that made him seem intimidating. The intensity in his eyes captured my attention—aware, on the verge of being angry, but not quite.

  He approached me with his hand out, a warm smile spread across his lip, as casual as could be as if approaching a friend he knew very well. His brown eyes lit up as he approached. “Emily, so good to see you. I didn’t expect to run into you.” His Southern was thick. Alabama? Mixed with a bit of Charleston accent. It was hard to determine. He spoke low and at some of the harsher constantans, his voice got husky.

  I blinked, holding out a hand awkwardly for him to take into his out of politeness. “A pleasure,” I said, although I questioned him with a raised eyebrow. I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the girls and draw any more attention to myself, and I didn’t know what to do.

  As soon as he had my hand, he drew me close until he could hug me around my shoulders.

  I stiffened, and not because it was a too friendly move from a stranger, but because he was Loïc’s dinner guest. What was he doing here with me? Where was Loïc?

  His breath was warm near my face as he whispered. “Ace needed me to take you outside. Quietly.”

  Ace.

  Something was happening? Was he doing what he wanted for Loïc? Ace hadn’t said Loïc was dangerous, but had indicated he could be tricky.

  What was going on? Maybe he knew I wasn’t enough of a distraction.

  Or maybe this was a trick. Still, with the two girls behind me showing off pictures of my face, I needed to get out of here.

  He backed up and kept his genuine smile, but the intensity in his eyes was there. He was aware, and serious, and he didn’t want me to say no. “Why don’t we go for a walk? We can catch up.”

  I nodded, eager to get going. If I were to cause a scene with a line of questioning from Zoey and her friend, it would no doubt draw attention. I readied myself, listening out for Ace in case he returned and challenged this. I’d have to explain later if this was a Loïc trick. Desperate times...