“I think you’re lying about the petty cash.” At happy hour, Justin had claimed Sebastian had a tell. Thanks to the tip, I’d been watching closely and had figured out that when Sebastian wasn’t being forthcoming, he usually touched his neck or the knot of his tie. I held up a twenty. “So let me get thisround.”
“Naw. I’ll cover it. I wouldn’t look good in the write-upotherwise.”
I rolled my eyes as he walked away. Of course, this was meant to be all about the magazine, even if it was starting tofeellikemore. . .
I stopped the thought in its tracks. Wondering if this could be something other than make-believe was just asking for trouble. And danger. Anddisappointment.
I refocused on the piece we were working on. No doubt Sebastian would make himself look like an angel. Should I have been taking notes? Using a rating system? Would he need pull-quotes for the piece? As I watched him walk away, I thought,Four out of five doctors recommend thatass.
Sebastian stopped to talk to the boat’s very prettyhostess.
And the one doctor thinks heisanass.
I pretended not to watch Sebastian lay on the charm as I unfurled a linen throw onto a park bench andsat.
Opal sniffed the base of a tree trunk, then squatted andpeed.
“Don’t worry,” I said, as Bruno lay at my feet. “Iwouldn’t leave either of you alone for acocktail.”
Bruno didn’t seem to care. He kept his eyes glued to Opal as she explored the immediate area, then finally settled a few feet fromhim.
Had Sebastian actually planned anything beyond a walk outdoors? What more could we do with dogs intow?
If he really was keeping me out until dinner, then we still had plenty of time together—and topics to cover. I realized then how effectively he’d cut off our conversations once they turned to his family. Either he wasn’t ready or wasn’t willing to share that part of himself with me. If only he knew that the mystery around them made me even more curious about how he’d grown up. Because the more I uncovered about Sebastian Quinn, the less I believed what I’d read abouthim.
And the more I wanted thetruth.
17
Georgina
Sebastian returned from the boat—afterflashing 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 thanyou.”
I scowled. Brunohadbeen noticeably distracted since she’d come on the scene. “He’s just blinded by a pretty face. You know how thatis.”
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?” heasked.
“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 adate.”
Sebastian sat on the bench next to me. “I wasn’t hitting onher.”
“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 thearticle.”
“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 onpurpose.”
I stared straight ahead, shocked into silence. “Why are you telling methis?”
“Because I’ve certainly never set out to make a woman feel anything less than cherished when we’re together. Iwasn’thitting onher.”
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 cleanestrecord.”
“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 envymylifestyle, and I let them because of my career. But that has itsdownfalls.”
“Suchas?”
“People also think I’m an ass. People likeyou.”
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 toNeal.
