Chapter 08 : Evalyne’s Plan to Flirt
2064 Words
“It’s getting worse,” Anna announced, dropping onto Evalyne’s office sofa like she owned it.
She did not work at Delaire Atelier. She had her own life, her own apartment in Brooklyn, her own job in some chaotic start-up that did something with digital content and charity campaigns. But she had a security badge, courtesy of Evalyne
, and a talent for appearing at exactly the wrong right moment.
Evalyne didn’t look up from her laptop. “If this is about the press, PR has it under control.”
“This is not about the press,” Anna said. “This is about you.”
“I’m fine,” Evalyne said.
“You are spiraling,” Anna replied. “Mina told me about the lawyer.”
“Mina has a big mouth,” Evalyne snapped.
“Mina is worried about her boss having a breakdown,” Anna said. “Also, to be fair, you literally walked out of a restaurant like a cartoon villain. You scared the waiter.”
“He called me a MILF,” Evalyne said. “In public. That is grounds for immediate removal.”
Anna snorted. “I mean, he’s not wrong, but yeah. Trash.”
Evalyne closed her laptop with a controlled click. “Why are you here?”
“Because my sister is trying to velocity-date her way into a marriage and somehow keeps picking sentient red flags,” Anna said. “I figured maybe we could… adjust course.”
“I don’t have time to adjust course,” Evalyne said. “I have a deadline.”
“A self-imposed insane deadline,” Anna pointed out. “You could still tell them you panicked.”
“No,” Evalyne said.
“Evie—”
“They would eat me alive,” Evalyne said. “They already smell blood. I’m not giving them more.”
Anna studied her face. “This isn’t just about them.”
Evalyne looked away.
“No,” she admitted.
She didn’t have the words for the rest. For the way, each failed date seemed to confirm some quiet, gnawing suspicion that Harris had been right. That she might be brilliant in a boardroom but fundamentally incompetent at being someone’s partner, someone’s mother.
“That tech guy sounded okay,” Anna said, picking at a loose thread on a cushion. “Why didn’t that work again?”
“He was honest,” Evalyne said. “And realistic. He knew he couldn’t step into a life like mine. He didn’t want to pretend.”
“And the accountant?”
“He took my measure and found me lacking,” Evalyne said flatly. “As a parent, specifically.”
Anna winced. “Ouch.”
“Yes,” Evalyne said.
“And the lawyer was a creep,” Anna summarized. “So. Current score: Men, three. Eva, zero.”
“Thank you,” Evalyne said dryly. “Very supportive.”
Anna sighed. “Look. You’re… you. You don’t flirt. You negotiate. You don’t banter. You draft contracts. Asking you to suddenly become some flirty, giggly person on command is like asking me to run your quarterly earnings call. We’re not built like that.”
“So what do you suggest?” Evalyne asked. “I can’t exactly interview candidates for the role of fiancé with a hiring panel.”
“That would be kind of iconic, actually,” Anna mused. “Bring them into a conference room, hand them a questionnaire…”
“Anna,” Evalyne said warningly.
“Okay, okay.” Anna leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Real talk. You’re trying to use the same skill set you use for business on your love life. It’s not working. These men can feel you evaluating them like investments. Which, to be fair, you kind of are. But they don’t like being treated like a portfolio asset.”
“I don’t know any other way,” Evalyne snapped, more harshly than she intended.
Anna’s expression softened. “I know.”
Silence settled for a moment, heavy but not hostile.
“I don’t… know what to say,” Evalyne said quietly. “On dates. I don’t know how much to share. I either say nothing and sound like a robot or I was to overshare them.”
“Like how?” Anna asked, a glint of interest in her eyes.
Evalyne grimaced. “Like I may have told that guy about I don't date and about how Harris cheated on me, ”
Anna’s mouth fell open. Then she slapped a hand over it, shoulders shaking.
“You told him that on the first date?” she wheezed.
“He asked if I had been on dates,” Evalyne said defensively.
“That doesn't mean–,” Anna managed. “Evie. Baby. No.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Evalyne demanded. “Not tell him that?”
“Yes!” Anna yelped. “Give him a sanitized version! ‘We grew apart.’ ‘We wanted different things.’ Not ‘he banged the nanny while the baby monitor was on.’”
“He didn’t bang the nanny,” Evalyne said automatically. “She was an intern.”
“Not the point,” Anna said. “You can’t unload the entire trauma file on someone you’ve just met. They haven’t earned that level of horror.”
Evalyne pressed her fingers to her temples. “See? This is why I don’t date. It’s a minefield.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “Which is why we need to move you somewhere where stepping on a mine is at least… amusing.”
“I’m not in the mood for amusement,” Evalyne grumbled.
“Too bad,” Anna said. “Because I have a plan.”
Evalyne eyed her warily. “Your plans usually involve property damage.”
“That was one time,” Anna protested. “And the coffee shop deserved it for calling that slushie a ‘latte.’”
“Anna.”
“Fine,” Anna said. “Hear me out. You keep trying to do… normal. Normal guys. Normal dates. Normal conversations in little candlelit restaurants where everyone whispers and pretends they’re not stressed out. That is not your habitat.”
“And you’ve identified a more suitable one?” Evalyne asked dryly.
“Yes,” Anna said. “A controlled environment. One where you’re not the one under scrutiny. Where you can practice being around men who are literally paid to be charming and flirty, without it… meaning anything.”
Evalyne stared at her. “What are you suggesting? A… workshop?”
“In a way,” Anna said, eyes lighting up. “A field trip.”
“I am not going to some… speed dating event,” Evalyne said. “Absolutely not.”
“Better,” Anna said. “Strip club.”
Evalyne blinked. “No.”
“Strip club,” Anna repeated cheerfully. “Specifically, a male revue. Out of town. Nobody knows you. Nobody is going to secretly take photos and send them to Page Six. You get to be anonymous for once.”
Evalyne opened her mouth to shut it down, then paused.
Anonymous.
The word had weight.
No cameras. No investors. No fake people.
Just… people.
“And what would this… field trip accomplish, exactly?” she asked cautiously.
“You, learning how to be around men who are flirting with you without turning into a statue,” Anna said. “You get to practice things like… making eye contact. Saying ‘hi’ without sounding like you’re about to fire them. Maybe touching someone’s arm without immediately thinking about HR.”
Evalyne’s cheeks heated. “I do not need to practice touching arms.”
“You do, actually,” Anna said. “You flinch every time someone brushes against you. It’s like watching a cat being petted by a toddler.”
“This is absurd,” Evalyne said.
“It’s controlled,” Anna insisted. “They’re professionals. Their whole job is making women feel comfortable and desired. You don’t owe them anything. You can walk out whenever you want. And there will be drinks.”
“I can get drinks here,” Evalyne said.
“Not with half-naked men smiling at you while you sit there trying to figure out where to put your hands,” Anna replied.
“That’s not a selling point,” Evalyne said.
“Evie,” Anna scooted closer, dropping the teasing tone. “You are rehearsing for something real. Right now, you are so out of practice that every man who looks at you like a woman instead of a CEO freaks you out. This… loosens that muscle. And it’s fun. When was the last time you did anything purely for fun?”
Evalyne thought about it. The answer made her vaguely uncomfortable.
“I don’t have time to drive to New Jersey to ogle muscular strangers,” she said.
“Pennsylvania,” Anna said. “Atlantic City. The revue’s supposed to be amazing. And we’re flying.”
“Absolutely not,” Evalyne said on instinct.
“Private jet,” Anna added casually. “In and out. One night. No one has to know.”
Evalyne hesitated.
She imagined it, against her will: leaving the city behind for a few hours, stepping into a room where she wasn’t Evalyne Delaire, billionaire, but just a woman in the dark, watching someone else perform.
She imagined not having to be impressive.
“You already booked it, didn’t you?” she asked.
Anna coughed. “I booked a tentative slot. In case you said yes.”
“Anna.”
“Come on,” Anna said. “Worst case scenario, you hate it and we come home and at least you’ve confirmed that straight men are a lost cause. Best case, you get some practice, maybe a hilarious story, maybe a tiny bit of your groove back. And nobody will give a damn that you lied at some gallery party.”
“I didn’t lie at some gallery party,” Evalyne said. “I lied at my gallery party. Hosted by my company. Streamed on three platforms.”
“Even more reason to escape the blast radius for one night,” Anna said. “Please. Let me kidnap you. I promise to bring you back in one piece.”
Evalyne rubbed her thumb along the edge of her desk, thinking of the weight of the ringless finger that Vivian had tracked like a hawk. Thinking of Theresa’s careful, closed-off face.
A controlled environment. A place to practice. A place where, for once, expectations were low.
“You said out of town,” she said slowly. “No one we know.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “Different state. Different clientele. No Celine. No Vivian. No investors.”
“And no… photographs,” Evalyne said.
“No phones allowed beyond the lobby,” Anna said. “Privacy policy. I checked. Twice. I know you.”
Of course she did.
Evalyne exhaled. “One night,” she said. “In and out. If I hate it, I reserve the right to never listen to you again.”
“That seems excessive,” Anna said. “But I accept.”
“And you do not,” Evalyne said sharply, “book a male stripper to show up at my house as some kind of follow-up ‘lesson.’”
Anna widened her eyes. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Evalyne said.
Anna grinned. “Noted.”
“So,” Evalyne said, feeling bizarrely like she had just agreed to a stunt on a reality show. “What exactly does one wear to… a male revue?”
Anna’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, sister. That, we can handle.”
That night, as Evalyne sat at the edge of her bed, a garment bag from the atelier draped over a chair.
“Practice,” she told her reflection in the glass. “That’s all it is.”
Her reflection looked back, lips set, eyes tired.
“Just don’t fall in love with the stripper,” Anna had joked as she left the office.
Evalyne had rolled her eyes.
She wasn’t going to fall in love with anyone.
She just needed to remember how to be looked at without breaking.
Tomorrow night, in the dark, under someone else’s spotlight, she would try.
- Writer
