“You, not fighting me at every turn.” Suddenly, he was right at my back, his voice lowered. “I much prefer it that way. I call, you come.”
Chills traveled up my spine. I almost stumbled but managed to compose myself. Even if he hadn’t meant it suggestively, it’d sounded that way—his voice low, warm breath at my ear. He wouldn’t be able to see my furious blushing from behind me, but I suspected he knew anyway.
His words alone inspired a thrill I hadn’t felt since my early days with Neal. A thrill that lasted all the way until we reached the group. But as the bartender looked right over my head to take Sebastian’s order, I saw his comment for what it was—the first compliment he’d given me, and it had doormat written all over it.
“Call all you want, and see if I come,” I said, walking away before he could respond.
7
Georgina
Sebastian stayed at his end of the bar. Whether he scowled in my direction or ignored me completely, I wasn’t sure since I avoided looking at him.
Justin came and set a shot in front of me. “Hanging in there?” he asked.
I nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You and Sebastian have put nearly the entire office between yourselves, not just tonight but all week. I was surprised you even showed up to work on Tuesday considering how he spoke to you the first day.”
Which time? Sebastian had cut deep both at the café and in his office, and since I’d only seen his mood darken around me, it was becoming apparent I inspired that in him. Either way, I’d definitely struck a nerve in Sebastian Quinn, when all I’d really wanted was to do the opposite. Everyone’s lives would be easier if he and I worked together instead of fighting each other at every turn. I even respected that Sebastian believed so strongly in his work and his team that he’d fall on his sword for it. But that was just the kind of thing I’d been hired to prevent. Modern Man needed a lifeline, not a deathblow.
“It’ll take more than a tantrum to keep me away,” I said.
Justin clinked his shot against mine and took it. “I wanted to tell you that Sebastian—he’s a really good guy,” he said, sucking on a lime. “I’m not just saying that because he’s my boss and my best friend. He’s a softie inside.” His eyes lit up. “He volunteers on Thanksgiving, visits his sister every month, and cries during Titanic. He’s got some personal issues, but he’s good people.”
I twirled my empty shot glass, trying to seem disinterested. It wasn’t that I wanted Justin to tell me more about Sebastian’s personal life, but I did have to work with the man. I needed to know if I should keep a straightjacket sized “big and tall” on hand, or if Sebastian was just throwing a hissy fit. “When you say issues . . .? I’m just asking in case I need to be concerned for my safety,” I teased.
“Normal stuff. We all got ’em.” Justin shrugged. “What’re yours?”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “Now who’s the job therapist?”
“The more I know, the more I can smooth the way for you and Sebastian. And, you know, whip you each into shape. Or you can whip each other—no judgment.”
“Justin,” I scolded.
He showed me his palms. “Sebbly’s been pretty grumpy since the exposé came out, but I haven’t seen him this worked up in a while.”
“Sebbly?”
“Tip number one—don’t call him that. I have all kinds of nicknames for him, mostly to use behind his back. He’s anti-nicknames in general, thinks they’re juvenile.”
“What else do you call him?”
“I’ll ease you in with Sebbly—a.k.a. Silly Seb. I also call him Hump Day Hottie on Wednesdays since he was dumb enough to use that in a piece once, or when he’s in a mood, he’s Se-beast-ian. I think he secretly likes that one.”
Justin was the definition of a class clown, but it seemed as if he was also a great friend. “How did you feel about the exposé?”
“It sucked. Made us sound like a bunch of assholes.”
“You guys can come off as assholes,” I pointed out.
“That’s the whole idea. Not to look like assholes, but to project an image men want to emulate—cars, parties, women. It doesn’t mean we’re actually these people. For Seb, it started in college. Networking came in many forms, and for a guy like him, it was crucial to his success. He’s mild compared to the bros that went to colleges like ours. It’s a wonder we turned out so well.”
A guy like him? I was familiar. Luciano often called Neal a slimy salesman, but even before he’d sold insurance, he could get a “yes” out of almost anyone. In Sebastian’s world, it sounded as if networking meant schmoozing, and sure—that was a necessary evil for getting ahead if that was important to Sebastian. It wasn’t what you knew but who, and all that. “You went to Harvard also?”
“Penn State,” Justin said. “But it was the same idea. Without a tough outer shell, you got squished by others on their way up.”
As the article had said, from Cambridge to New York City, the world was Sebastian’s playground—and women likely let him off the hook for everything. I hadn’t necessarily pegged Sebastian as the silver-spoon type, but Justin described behavior stereotypical of a wealthy, attractive, Ivy League-educated man. They’d never had to work very hard for anything, and that explained why Sebastian hated having me around to monitor him.
“I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes,” I explained. Now that I had more facts, I could use them to stay in Justin’s good graces—and hopefully work my way into Sebastian’s. “I like to have fun at work. We can goof around as long as we meet our goals—goals we set together.”
“The atmosphere around there is important to Sebastian. He protects his team fiercely, sometimes at the jeopardy of his own job.”
Sebastian was one of the more passionate businesspeople I’d worked with. Would he actually risk his position for his team, or did a privileged life simply make him feel he was invincible? Either way, it explained why my presence frustrated him so much. Conviction, fear, or both—they were powerful motivators. “He has been at Modern Man a long time,” I reasoned.
“His whole career,” Justin agreed. “It was his first internship out of college. The magazine was going under when he took it over.”
That much I knew from my research, but the fact that Justin wasn’t making a joke of it only emphasized that this was more than a job for Sebastian. In a way, as dramatic as it sounded, it was his life’s work. He wouldn’t let me take over without a fight.
“It must suck coming into a workplace where nobody wants you around,” Justin said. “I get that you’re here tonight to be one of the guys, and I think it was the right choice.”
My smile faded. Was I that obvious? Being a consultant could be a lonely job. My teams always came with an expiration date. It was my responsibility to come in, make them function better, then release them into the wild while I watched from the sidelines. I preferred it when they liked me, which was why I worked so hard to fit in, but it didn’t always play out that way. Being “one of the guys” would make life easier, but it was proving to be as difficult to achieve as I’d anticipated.
“Keller doesn’t have a drink,” Garth yelled from Sebastian’s end of the bar.
All eyes turned to me—even Sebastian’s all-knowing green ones.
The owner, Santino as he’d been introduced to me, nodded. “What’ll it be, guapa?”
On the spot, with everyone waiting, I couldn’t think of a single drink, not one. More tequila? Could I order a Guinness, or would that be an insult to Mexican beer? What was a good Mexican beer again? Oh, God. What was wrong with me? All week, I’d not only had the attention of the whole staff—I’d commanded it. Why couldn’t I speak now? Or think? That was the problem—I was overthinking it and making things worse. All I heard was Luciano in my head, telling me to choose something flirty.
“Lemon drop,” I blurted.