17
Georgina
Sebastian returned from the boat—after flashing the hostess a panty-dropping smile—gripping two paper bags in one hand and a large cup in the other. “I think Bruno’s found himself a girlfriend,” he said, nodding at the dogs. “He might like Opal better than you.”
I scowled. Bruno had been noticeably distracted since she’d come on the scene. “He’s just blinded by a pretty face. You know how that is.”
He set down the cup—full of water—between the two dogs and passed me one of the paper bags. “You mean the crew member?” he asked.
“Here’s a tip for your article,” I said, peering in the paper bag at a can of Coors. “Don’t hit on other women while you’re on a date.”
Sebastian sat on the bench next to me. “I wasn’t hitting on her.”
“Deny it all you want. I saw it with my own eyes, and I’m afraid I’ll have to dock you for it in the article.”
“I was smoothing the way to sneak our beers out.” Sebastian rolled the bag down enough to expose the lip. He took a sip, then sat quietly a moment. “That girlfriend I mentioned? It was about a year ago that we broke up. Before her, I dated casually, like any other person my age.” He shifted on the bench to face me a little more. “I had a certain type, and maybe they photographed well, and maybe their attitudes allowed me to keep them at arm’s length, but you should know . . . I’m not the womanizer I’ve been made out to be. I don’t sleep with every woman I go out with. I’ve never broken someone’s heart on purpose.”
I stared straight ahead, shocked into silence. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’ve certainly never set out to make a woman feel anything less than cherished when we’re together. I wasn’t hitting on her.”
I studied the paper bag, slightly ashamed I’d jumped to conclusions. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but you can’t blame me for thinking that. You don’t have the cleanest record.”
“I should’ve explained all this your first day, but I have an image to uphold. People think I’m capable of running a men’s lifestyle magazine because they envy my lifestyle, and I let them because of my career. But that has its downfalls.”
“Such as?”
“People also think I’m an ass. People like you.”
People like me. Someone like me. It always sounded like an accusation, even when it wasn’t. I tried not to let the words take me back to Neal.
“You made a comment earlier about how I keep all the women straight, but I’ve never had that problem. I’m not the player you think I am—I only play one in the media.”
“Why do you care what I think?” I asked.
“I always have, Georgina. You have power over me.”
That Sebastian ever gave me a second thought both surprised and flattered me. “I do?”
“Of course. What you say and do influences my team and my boss. In a way, my career is in your hands.”
My heart dropped.
More than he knows.
“You underestimate others and yourself,” I told him. “You don’t need all that to be good at your job.”
He rubbed his nose. “Years ago, when I’d still been a style editor, I went to a party in the Hamptons. A friend of mine from college was there, and she’d recently married some bigwig producer. She drank way too much and I’d barely had one, so I took the keys to her Ferrari and drove her home.”
“I read about this,” I said.
“Everyone did. Leaving the party, I swerved into a ditch to avoid a drunk driver and totaled the car. The headlines ran wild. According to the press, I was having an affair with a married woman. I was a drunk and off to rehab. One gossip columnist even speculated my friend and I were conspiring to get her husband’s money.”
It was one of the first stories that’d come up when I’d searched Sebastian Quinn. “What happened when you set them straight?”
“I didn’t. My name was everywhere. Vance noticed. My coworkers started high-fiving me in the halls. Social media took an interest in my love life. It was natural for me to run with it because I’d already been putting on a persona since college. Within a year, I was promoted to creative director-at-large.”
Hearing him use his full title, one that might be mine soon, formed a pit in my stomach. “You believe your rep got you to where you are.”
“I know it did. And now it’s threatening all of that.”
I shifted on the bench. Vance had sworn me to secrecy, and technically, I owed him my loyalty, but having this conversation was beyond uncomfortable. “It doesn’t have to,” I said. “Drop the bad boy act. You don’t need it, and I don’t believe you ever did.”
“You don’t know that, Georgina.”
“You’ve got to let go of the notion that some stupid gossip item got you here instead of the truth—it was your talent.”
“I’m not doubting my talent,” he said. “I’m saying a fuckload of people in this city have that. You need more to get noticed.”
“Sebastian.” I sighed. “You’re already at the top.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll stay there.”
Vance’s warning rang through my thoughts. If he storms in here one more time making demands, he’ll get an unwelcome reality check. I wasn’t sure I could keep Sebastian from reacting impulsively to the information I had, but I could open his eyes to the fact that the persona he’d crafted was hurting more than it was helping.
The question was why I wanted to. If Sebastian changed course and delivered what Modern Man needed, would Vance rescind my offer? Why should I consider Sebastian’s feelings at all? My first day, it’d taken a lot of guts to show up and present to his team, and his support would’ve smoothed the way immeasurably. Instead, he’d gone out of his way to make it hard on me. He’d thought I was a joke. For all Vance’s faults, at least he’d always taken me seriously.
Sebastian squinted and let out a whistle. Bruno lifted his head as Opal jumped up, her entire body wiggling as she found her way between Sebastian’s legs. She launched her front paws into his lap to lick his face.
I never would’ve pictured the debonair man I’d met at the coffee shop laughing through kisses from a mutt. Then again, he’d just started to reveal another layer, one that showed he wasn’t necessarily the person he projected.
That was why, as much as I wanted my own success, I wanted his too. I’d brought fresh perspective and ideas like I’d been hired to, but Sebastian had put in the work, however grudgingly. He was still the right man for the job, and unlike me, he actually enjoyed it.
“Steer the magazine in the direction it needs to go,” I said, picking at a notch in Bruno’s leather leash. “If you take over, I become obsolete. Walk in with me as a united front tomorrow morning.”
“Bringing you in made everyone think I failed to save the magazine,” he said, smoothing both hands over Opal’s head as she panted at him. “Once I submit, they’ll know I did. I don’t want to lose the respect of my team.”
I was all too familiar with that fear. I became a different version of myself each morning to secure respect. Even now, I was afraid to open up to Sebastian about why Neal had left, and why I warred with myself every day, due to the possibility that he might see me as weaker. “We don’t have to fight each other at every turn. We can work together. It’s not too late.”
“Too late for what?”
Shit. I hesitated. If I decided to risk my assignment, and this new opportunity, by telling Sebastian about my meeting with Vance, it would also end the date immediately. And I didn’t want that. What I wanted was to see if there might be anything more worth exploring between us.
“Not too late to dispel the rumors,” I said. “Fix your rep. Admit you were wrong. You and I have made a lot of progress, and my assignment’s almost over. It’s time for me to take a back seat and let you run the show. There’ll be no question of respect.”