I wantedhim.
And Sebastian had just made it painfully obvious he was so uninterested in me romantically that he was willing to offer me for a fake relationship with a man he barely even knew anymore.
Pain and confusion tangled up in my throat and made it hard to breathe.
When I visibly struggled to find words, Sebastian dropped his foot to the ground and leaned forward on the bench to gently take my hands. He was so tall that even though he was seated and I was standing, I didn't have to look down far to see into those topaz eyes.
“You said to me that you do not wish to be alone,” he said softly, his gaze searching my face for what I didn’t have the vocabulary to say. “I understand that sentiment very well, and Linnea, no one knows that feeling as well as Adam. He has been alone for too long, and now he is struggling under the weight and scrutiny of a scandal that could take his only dream from him. I do not tell you this so that you will do this out of pity. I tell you this so that you know the two of you have more in common than you might think. That beyond helping two friends out of difficult situations, I am proposing this deal because I think it could help you both heal.”
“I’m not broken,” I said, an automatic argument because I wasn’t.
I was a twenty-six-year-old woman with her health, her beauty, and her brains, a roof over her head, and a family back in Maui who loved her.
Sebastian raised a brow and then slowly lifted my hands between us to showcase the way my nail beds were ripped apart, some stained with blood, the others scabbed over. It was a stress tic I’d developed as a girl, picking at my nails until they were open wounds.
I didn’t remember ever telling Sebastian about it, but wasn’t that part of his power? That he could look at a person and see through to their underbelly, no matter how layered their mask was?
Wasn’t that secretly why I had not told him when I moved to LA?
A part of me had known he would swoop in to save the day because he simply could not help himself from sticking out his neck for the ones he loved.
“He hurt you,” I said, as a last-ditch attempt to get out of this deal that seemed both too good to be true and a horrifically bad idea. “I don’t know if I can be friends, even fake friends, with someone who could hurt you the way he so obviously did.”
Every muscle in Seb’s body tensed for a moment before he gathered a deep breath and expelled it in a controlled exhale. “I have thought a lot about that over the years. The truth is, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to our unusual arrangement. Savannah isn’t the kind of woman to take no for an answer, but how was it going to ever end but in agony, hmm? I was an eighteen-year-old chauffeur, and they were married.”
He shrugged as if none of it mattered, but his eyes were stale with old wounds. “Honestly, something about helping you both like this feels like closure. Like something good coming out of the bad. Maybe Adam and I can find our way to being friends again.”
“Well,” I said after a moment, forcing humor into my tone to mask the noxious mix of hope and fear wrapping strong hands around my throat. “You’ll have to be if I agree to this. I don’t intend to lose your friendship now that we are living in the same city, and if I’m supposed to be…” I wrinkled my nose. “Dating this guy, then you’ll be around each other.”
Sebastian laughed, a full-bellied movement that erased the unease from his expression. When he finished, his eyes were sparkling, and he used his grip on my hands to tug me forward into his lap, a ploy I was beginning to think was his trademark. I settled easily on his lap, though, looping my arms around his neck and staring down into that happy face.
“You know, most women would be falling over themselves for even the chance to fake date Adam Meyers,” he informed me.
I would have fallen over myself to date him, but again, that didn’t seem to be an option on the table.
I shrugged. “I grew up around celebrities, the only person I’ll ever willingly fall over myself for is Taylor Swift. What I wouldn’t give to meet her.”
Sebastian laughed again, holding me close enough that I could feel the way the humor moved through his strong body. I watched him, brushing my fingertips through the short hairs on the back of his neck, and wondered how the hell I could ever pull off being in love with another man when I was falling head over heels for the one sitting me in his lap.
8
LINNEA
Affaire was one of the hottest restaurants in Los Angeles, but tonight was still absolute chaos compared to the norm. An up-and-coming rapper was celebrating his birthday in one of the private rooms in the back, and the daughter of a top Hollywood director was hosting a sweet sixteen in the wine cellar. The main floor, an opulent, French-themed landscape of red velvet seats and chandeliers, was packed with A-list celebrities and quiet money.
I had been gobsmacked when I got the job given that the hotel was part of the world class Faire Developments Group and the head chef was Etienne Devereaux, a three-star Michelin chef from New York City. The tips on the first day alone had honestly made me weep, and even though the hustle was absolute insanity each shift, I loved everyone I worked with. Serving celebrities was never going to be glamorous, but most of them treated me with polite indifference or cool disdain, and I’d only had to deal with the odd tantrum.
Besides, it was where I had met Rozhin.
“If Bob Henry doesn’t stop staring at my breasts, my hand is going to have a word with his face,” she told me as she swooped into the server’s station with glittering dark eyes. “The uniform is hardly revealing.”
This was true. We were required to wear black dress shirts and tailored black pants with heels, but Rozhin was blessed with a body like an hourglass, so she could make any outfit look indecent.
“Bob isn’t a day under eighty-four,” I said as I printed a bill and slotted it into a leather folio. “Give the guy a break. He’s trying to live a little before he dies.”
Rozhin laughed like I’d intended her to, bumping her hip into mine. “Why do I even love you?”
“Because I’m fabulous?” I teased with a winning smile, flipping my hair over my shoulder as I started to walk out of the hub.
