CHAPTER TEN. ❦︎

"And I figured my supportive assistant could at least congratulate me with something that's not an eye roll."

The faint hum of the city filtered into Valeria's hotel room, muted by the drawn curtains. She was seated on the bed, laptop resting on her thighs as she updated Franco's calendar and sorted through emails. Her to-do list stretched long into the next day, and every moment she wasn't wrangling his schedule or planning logistics was one she considered a precious reward.

Marisol, back at the circuit, had promised to join her later. She was still busy uploading photos from the day, sifting through hundreds of shots for different teams.

Valeria hadn't even tried convincing her to come back sooner. She preferred the peace and quiet. Or at least, she had been until a knock at the door shattered it.

She frowned, glancing toward the clock in the corner of her laptop screen. 8:47 p.m. It couldn't be Marisol—she'd text before showing up.

Maybe hotel staff.

Sliding off the bed, she went ahead and checked the peephole.

Oh, but of course.

"Who the hell gave you my room number," Valeria opened the door with a flat tone, her expression settling into the same unimpressed look she'd perfected during months of dealing with him.

Franco was leaning against the doorframe, a six-pack of sparking water dangling in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other. Dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair damp from a shower, he looked irritatingly comfortable.

"It wasn't hard to find, I just asked," He said casually, a grin spreading across his face as he straightened. "I brought food."

"What do you want?" She asked, already tired.

"To hang out. You're here, I'm here—it's perfect, no?" He held up the bag as if to emphasize his point.

She glanced past him into the empty hallway, then back at his expectant face. "Can you bother literally anyone else? Alex and Lily are on the ninth floor."

He shook his head, "They went out for dinner." Stepping forward uninvited. "And the rest of the team's still at the circuit. Thought you might appreciate some company."

"I don't," She said firmly, planting herself in the doorway.

He tilted his head, his grin softening into something more boyish, more disarming. "Vale. I qualified top 10 today. That's cause for celebration."

She sighed, crossing her arms and pinched her nose bridge.

"And I figured my supportive assistant could at least congratulate me with something that's not an eye roll."

"Congratulations," She deadpanned. "Now go away."

"No thank you," He laughed, stepping inside and brushing past her before she could stop him.

She turned on her heel, exasperated. "Franco—"

"You can't kick me out," He said, dropping onto the hotel room's couch, setting the bag and drinks on a table. He stretched his arms over the back rest, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Yes I can??? So, get out." Valeria pointed at the door.

"This is coworker bonding. Very important for team morale."

"Morale?" She repeated, arching a brow. "I will literally report you for harassment at this point."

"Do it," He challenged with a smirk, unfazed. "Let me know how that conversation goes. 'Hi, this is Valeria. Franco brought me dinner and asked me to hang out. What a monster.'"

She clenched her jaw, biting back the smile threatening to form because sometimes his comebacks were quick and too smartass-y. He always did this—turned everything into a joke, making it impossible to stay mad at him for long.

"Exactly." He mischievously grinned at her silence. "You're stuck with me."

"I'll bring up those messages about certain photos." She threatened with a quirked brow. "Now that wasn't very appropriate, was it?"

"That's not very good for my PR image..." Franco sarcastically held a hand to his chest. "What a shame, Vale." He sighed.

She pinched the bridge of her nose again, willing herself to stay calm. "You really don't understand boundaries, do you?"

He shrugged, unfazed. "Overrated."

"Try very necessary. And you're currently stomping all over mine."

"Come onnnnn," He said, popping open a sparkling water and taking a sip. "Take a break. You work too much."

"And that's fine. Someone has to keep track of your life since you won't do it. Nobody else on the grid has an assistant that is put to work like this."

He grinned, as if proud of the accusation. "And you do an amazing job. Which is why I'm letting you have the night off! With me!"

"I do not want to spend a night off with you." She groaned. "Matter of fact, I'd rather skin myself alive."

"That hurts," He said, now clutching his chest dramatically. "I'm fun. People love spending time with me."

"People with poor judgment," She muttered under her breath.

"Let's be real," He said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Don't I bring so much fun around you? What was life before you met me?"

"I was living in peaceful harmony."

"Borrrrrinnnggg," He countered, popping a fry into his mouth.

She let out a long breath, eyeing him with a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement. "Do you know when to quit? Genuine question."

"¡Claro que sí!" He said with a wink.

Aggressively closing the door shut, Valeria gave up with a groan before she marched back to the bed, intending to ignore him entirely, but he wasn't about to let that happen.

"You're just going to sit there?" He asked. "Not even going to at least celebrate with me?"

"What do you want me to do? Throw a party?"

"Wouldn't say no to that," He said, grinning. "But I'll settle for a movie or some quality bonding. Your choice."

"I don't have time for either."

"Vale," Franco said, his voice turning casual, but there was an unmistakable plea underneath. "One night won't kill you."

Valeria arched an eyebrow, eyeing him skeptically. "You really think I'm going to drop everything for you just because you qualified top 10?"

He gave a shrug, flashing that signature grin. "I think it's a big deal. You should at least pretend to care."

"I do care," She deadpanned, "I really do. But I'm also quite comfortable and busy thank you, and I don't need any distractions."

Franco leaned forward in his seat, his tone almost teasing now. "Is that what I am?"

"You're always keeping me from trying to do my work, so yeah, you are." Valeria argued.

"Alright, fine," Franco said, settling back into his seat with a dramatic sigh, like he'd just accepted some monumental defeat. But his tone was light, calculated.

"Stay buried in your emails. But when you're burnt out tomorrow and can't keep up with my busy day.... don't any I didn't tell you so."

Valeria narrowed her eyes, already knowing where this was going. "Don't try to guilt-trip me. It's not going to work."

"Worth a shot." Franco sighed, still not wanting to give up.

Soon enough, Valeria just decided to leave him there and completely ignore him for the night since he was being difficult regardless, meanwhile, he leaned back into the couch, stretching out his arms like he was getting comfortable for the night.

His gaze flicked to Valeria, who was already typing away on her laptop again, fully blocking out his entire existence. For a moment, he just watched her, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. Then he spoke, his tone casual but pointed.

"Can you at least sit with me?"

"I am sitting with you," She replied quietly, not looking up from her screen.

"No," He countered. "You're sitting near me, which isn't the same thing."

She let out a soft sigh, her fingers pausing mid-typing as she glanced up at him, unimpressed. "Franco,  you're gonna to have to entertain yourself because I can't do this."

"I am entertaining myself," He replied, smirking.

Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a warning look. "Idiot."

He shrugged, undeterred. "The couch is big enough for two people and your laptop. You can sit here, work, and I'll sit here, and eat. Totally silent."

She studied him, her skepticism written all over her face. "Peaceful?"

"Completely."

"Quiet?"

"Of Course," He said, crossing his heart with exaggerated sincerity.

Valeria stared at him for a moment longer, then muttered something under her breath before begrudgingly grabbing her laptop and moving to the couch. She dropped onto the opposite end, as far away from him as possible, and set up again without a word.

Franco grinned in triumph, leaning back with a satisfied look. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Talk again, and I walk out." She warned, not even sparing him a glance.

"Understood," He said quickly, his grin widening.

The room fell into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the sound of her typing. Franco leaned his head back, watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. There was something oddly entertaining about the way her brow furrowed in concentration or how she muttered quietly to herself when something didn't line up.

After a while, Valeria paused, sensing his gaze. She looked up, catching him staring. "What?"

"Nothing," Franco said smoothly, looking forward like he hadn't just been caught.

"Then stop staring," She muttered, returning to her spreadsheet and never ending emails.

"I wasn't staring," He lied, the playful grin on his face making it obvious. "I was... observing."

"Franco."

"Hm? I'm not doing anything."

She sighed heavily and went back to her typing, shaking her head. A few minutes later, her phone buzzed on the table. She reached for it, but Franco moved faster, snatching it before she could grab it.

"Give that back," She said sharply, reaching across the couch.

"No," He replied, holding it out of her reach, his grin widening. "You're supposed to be working, remember?"

"I am working! That's part of my work!" She argued, lunging toward him.

"Sure it is," He teased, leaning farther back to keep the phone out of reach.

"Franco, I swear—" Valeria lunged again, this time losing her balance as she scrambled across the couch.

Her knee slipped off the cushion, and before either of them realized what was happening, she fell forward, landing squarely on top of him. The air left Franco's lungs in a sharp exhale as her hands landed on his chest, her face inches from his.

The room went silent.

Valeria froze, her eyes wide as she stared down at him. Franco's smirk faltered, his expression shifting to something unreadable. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them suddenly thick with tension.

Her breath caught as she realized how close they were, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. His hand, still holding her phone, hovered in the air, forgotten.

"Comfortable?" He grinned.

She blinked, her brain catching up to the situation. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she immediately pushed herself off him, muttering under her breath, "That did not happen."

"Yeah?" He quirked a brow, sitting up with a grin, the tension breaking as quickly as it had formed.

"You and I both know it was an accident!" She shot back, grabbing her phone from his hand with a sharp tug.

Valeria glared at him, her face still burning as she settled back into her spot and attempted to get back to work but her fingers froze, she was too flustered now.

Franco watched her for a moment longer, his grin softening into something more genuine. "Well." He decided to save her the embarrassment and not tease further. "So.... Did you eat dinner yet?"

"No." She took a deep breath and sighed into her hands before dragging them up her face and running them through her hair.

"Waiting for Marí to get back."

"And when is that?" Franco quirked a brow as Valeria completely avoided the entire idea of even looking at him.

"Not anytime soon." She mumbled as she saw him gesture to the takeout bag still sitting on the table from the corner of her eyes.

Valeria's gaze flickered toward it. The aroma of food was hard to ignore, and her stomach betrayed her with a quiet rumble. She sighed, finally closing her laptop with more force than necessary and setting it aside.

"Okay. But only because I'm starving. Not because I want your company."

"Whatever you say." Franco through his hands up in sarcastic defeat before reaching for the bag and pulling out burgers and fries.

"Franco." Valeria sighed. "You should not be eating this the night before a race." She softly scolded.

"Too late." He shrugged, tossing another fry into his mouth. "We're in Texas, no? This is all they have."

And with that, she actually laughed.

As they began to eat together, Valeria and Franco fell into their usual rhythm of banter, his flirtations effortless and her retorts sharp. Despite herself, she found the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile. He had a way of getting under her skin, but he also had a way of making the chaos of her job feel a little less heavy.

The night stretched forward, and Valeria realized she'd spent more time laughing than working.

And for once? She didn't mind at all.

Franco gave a low chuckle, clearly enjoying himself as the two chatted and actually laughed together. He shifted on the couch, his leg brushing against hers as he moved. He seemed to do it on purpose, casual, like it was an accident, but the warmth from his body lingered.

"So this is technically our first of many dinner dates." Franco grinned after sipping his sparkling water.

Valeria rolled her eyes as she chewed before swallowing. "Say something stupid like that again and I swear—"

But before she knew, the door swung open, and Marisol stepped in, juggling her camera bag and a laptop.

"Mama's bac—" She stopped mid-sentence, her gaze snapping from Valeria to Franco, who was sprawled on the couch, looking far too comfortable.

"Oh! Uhm... Am I interrupting something this time?" Marisol asked, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.

Valeria shot to her feet, nearly knocking over her drink in the process. "No! Not at all," She said quickly, wiping her unfortunately greasy hands on her leggings.

"Franco was just—we were—"

"Hanging out," He supplied 'helpfully', a sly smile tugging at his lips as he sat up straighter. "Hi, Marisol." He grinned, familiar with the photographer.

Marisol raised a brow, clearly fighting back a grin. "Right... Hanging out."

Valeria glared. "Don't make it sound weird."

"Who's making it weird?" He asked innocently.

"You are!" She turned to him before glancing at Marisol. "You both are!"

Marisol set her things down, watching the two of them with open curiosity. "Well, this is new. Didn't know you two were... close?"

"We're not," Valeria said quickly, crossing her arms. "He just doesn't know how to take no for an answer."

"Hey," Franco said, feigning offense. "You let me stay."

"I really had no choice," She snapped.

Marisol chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. "Of course. That should explain why you were practically glowing when I walked in."

"What does that even mean," Valeria's eyes narrowed. "I was not 'glowing'???"

"I think you were," Franco said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk.

"Don't." Valeria pointed and glared at him before turning back to Marisol. "He's just been disrupting my peace."

"Of course," Marisol nodded as if she understood, but in reality it seemed like she just had many teasing comments to get off her chest as her grin widened. "Got it."

Valeria groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Can we not do this?"

"Sure," Marisol said, her tone teasing. "But I'm gonna need the full story later." She whispered.

"There's no story."

"Keep telling yourself that," Marisol said, plopping onto the bed. "Anyway, don't mind me. Pretend I'm not here." She smiled, sitting criss cross before opening her laptop.

"Oh, don't worry," Franco said with a wink. "We will."

"Nuh-uh!" Valeria shot him a look that could have melted steel. "You're actually leaving now."

"Am I?" He asked, clearly unfazed.

"Yes," She said, grabbing the takeout bag and thrusting it into his hands. "Thank you for the food. Now goodbye."

He stood, taking his time as he stretched. "Alright, alright. I'll go. For now."

"For now?" She repeated, her tone warning.

"Goodnight, hermosa," He said, flashing her a grin as he headed for the door. "Marisol." He briefly glanced at the other girl.

Marisol waved cheerfully. "Night, Franco."

The door clicked shut behind him, and the room fell into silence. Valeria exhaled, plopping onto her bed face first with a loud groan.

"So," Marisol began, her tone brimming with mischief.

"Nope. We aren't doing any of that. What you just saw was nothing." Valeria wasn't about to have this conversation.

Marisol completely disregarded everything her friend jusr said and teased. "You and Franco...?" She grinned.

"There is no 'me and Franco,'" She said, shooting her head up with a deathly glare.

"Mhm..." Marisol said again, clearly unconvinced. "But, sure looks like it."

Valeria groaned, sinking deeper into the bed. She had a feeling this conversation was far from over.

vera's voice 💌 ( 2.9k words )
i feel like i'm so repetitive. i just can't do a
fast pace story to save my life. jsut shhhhh
let me figure it out 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

happy thanksgiving. thankful for u. and
writing. I suppose 👅👅👅👅👅 Lokz

ok Hai. Me luv U. Ok. Bai.

B!!! E!!! Lov u.
Me vera, Bai.