Unexpected Eva (Triple Trouble #3)(77)

I look around the table, and my eyes land on Tabby. She did as I asked; she stayed away. Thank fuck.

Sensing her desperation to ask me something, she keeps flitting her eyes in my direction.

There are two sides to Tabby and most days, you’re never sure which version you’ll get. The uptight one or the bitchy one. Neither are great options.

I wonder which version we will get today.

I can’t be fucked with either.

Between the daily hotel administration, juggling time with Eva, the refurb of the members' bar, and a Winter Ball to prepare for, something I am actively involved with every year, I’m done. I need a break. Like yesterday.

I give my neck a roll from side to side to stretch out the tension.

Toward the middle of January, The Sanctuary holds the finest Winter Ball for miles around; however, this year is different. Because this coming January, The Sanctuary is celebrating sixty years in business. We are commemorating my father's and grandfather's legacy.

It’s going to be big, over the top, a festival of sorts. Ice sculptures, photo booths, blackjack tables, bombastic bands, secret operatic singers disguised as servers who will pop up from time to time, designed to amaze guests. It will be grandiose and an event people will talk about for years to come. That’s the plan, anyway.

My secretary, Mrs. Kinnear, is also retiring and we will also honor her at the event. Something she doesn’t know about. She’s been my father’s and my right-hand woman for decades and we are struggling to find a replacement.

Only six people who applied have potential.

The interviewing process begins in two weeks. Hopefully, we find a suitable candidate to enable them to work alongside Mrs. Kinnear. I want a smooth handover and transition and someone who can jump straight into our demanding fast-paced schedule.

I’m going to miss Mrs. Kinnear. Even her plant talking, which I have become accustomed to.

There is so much to do in only a few weeks. Plus, the added pressure of Ella and Fraser’s wedding.

We normally try to block off weeks before the Winter Ball to prepare for it and a last-minute wedding booking was not planned for.

My bad.

Our preference has always been to have the ballroom fully stripped, cleaned, and ready for party preparations. But of course I said yes because I couldn’t resist Eva's plea for help.

Who could say no to those dimples, anyway?

And now my staff hate me because we have little time, especially as most places close for a week over Christmas. We are on a tighter than tight schedule.

Yikes, what was I thinking?

Dimples. It’s always the dimples.

Lincoln is the one who has been keeping order and maintaining calm. He’s restructured our normal timetable.

One of his lifeline suggestions was to install the forty-foot indoor stage and white LED dance floor to prepare for our seventeen-piece band for Ella and Fraser’s wedding, meaning it will already be in place for the ball and they are getting one helluva wedding.

It takes a crew of ten men to install over five days, so this has saved us a week already; my boy is an organizational genius.

Lost in my thoughts, Tabitha breaks me from my mental list making. “How have you been, Knox?”

“Good. And you, Tabitha?” I loosen my tie.

“Oh, it's Tabitha now, is it? No longer Tabby,” she huffs.

That woman is a child.

Eva may be fourteen years younger than her, but she has more maturity in her pinky finger than Tabitha has in her whole body.

A gentle knock on the boardroom door is a welcome distraction.

It opens, and a blond-haired beauty pops her head around the gap in the door.

“Hi, hey. I’m not sure I’m in the correct place. Is this the Castleview Business Circle meeting?” she says in a gentle tone.

Like a missile seeking its target, her eyes meet mine.

Eva.

What’s she doing here?

I sit up straighter.

“Yes, it is. Professional business owners only, Eva,” Tabitha dismisses her.

Eva holds her ground and dazzles me with a smile. “I’m in the correct room, then. My father asked me to attend in his place today.”

“Perfect. We were looking for someone to take the minutes.” Tabitha grins wickedly.

“Mrs. Kinnear has offered to take them today.” I pull out my phone, write a quick email with praying hands emoji begging Mrs. Kinnear to help us in the boardroom, with the returned promise to water her plants for a week. She instantly replies with a hands off my plants email, informing me she’s on her way.

She’s saved my backside an infinite amount of times.

“Take a seat, Eva.” Excited at the prospect of spending the next hour in her company, I pull out the second-to-last available seat on my right-hand side.

Eva elegantly glides around the table, removing her camel Fedora hat as she bounces closer to me.

She gracefully hooks it on the coat stand in the corner of the room along with her long toffee-colored belted wool coat and multicolored tartan scarf. Unwrapping herself, she reveals her knockout dance outfit—sculpted black leggings, oversized black jumper that says Addicted to Dance on the front with the girls' dance school name T3SDS in teal in giant letters arched across the back, and black jeweled high-top sneakers.

She’s a clashing cacophony of styles and colors, but like everything Eva wears and does, she pulls it off.