But even as I try to ignore Sebastian, I surreptitiously watch him out of the corner of my eye.
He looks damn good for someone jet-lagged. His day-old stubble only enhances the classic proportions of his face. His hair flops into sleepy eyes. He yawns and stretches, muscles pulling against the short sleeves of his navy-blue shirt, which rises and shows off a trail of hair leading down to…
I whip my head back to the screen. I thank the Lord that I’m constitutionally unable to blush. If I were a blusher, I’d be fully red right now because of the direction of my thoughts.
I have to focus. “I love this, Matt. I’ve been wanting to reorganize Sebastian’s closet for ages. I can’t believe I hadn’t heard about this app,” I say admiringly.
“It’s new. They only launched it a few months ago. But I got in on the beta version,” he explains.
“What the fuck,” my boss mutters. “You don’t care?”
I look at him, startled. “Care about what?”
“About him.” Sebastian waves at Matt. “That he’s here? That he’s sitting in your seat?”
“Matt? He’s awesome.”
“You’re not jealous?”
Matt holds up his hands. “Whoa, dude. I’m not into love triangles. Been there, done that. I’m in love with my boyfriend. Monogamy is where it’s at.”
“I’m talking about professional jealousy, Matt,” he says, heavy on the sarcasm.
“Don’t use that tone of voice with your new assistant,” I scold Sebastian. “He’s new. So he doesn’t understand that you’re grumpy and don’t really mean it.”
“Fuck it. I give up. This is not how this was supposed to go down, with the two of you best friends.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, stupefied.
“I’ve given you time to change your mind. Tripling your salary wasn’t enough. Fridays off wasn’t enough. Living in my awesome carriage house wasn’t enough. What will convince you to stay?”
Sebastian unfurls his large body, walks over to me, leans against the table where I’m working and, typical of his lack of boundaries, takes my coffee and sips, wincing at the amount of sugar I put in it.
I open my mouth, still confused. “Isn’t that insensitive, trying to bribe me to stay while Matt, my replacement, listens?”
“Oh, I’m not your replacement,” Matt says cheerfully. “So, no worries.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask Sebastian.”
I turn to my soon-to-be ex-boss.
“What does he mean?”
He looks exasperated. “Matt, the terms of your hire are private. I thought you were supposed to be discreet.”
I glare.
He huffs. “Fine. He’s not your replacement. He’s your assistant. Or at least he will be if you stay. No offense to him. I’m sure he’s good. But he won’t kick my ass when I need it. He won’t tell me the truth when everyone else is trying to pretend bullshit is gold. He won’t push me to be a better person and help me know what direction to go when I have no fucking clue. I don’t need anyone else, Em. I needyou.”
Emotions rush through me. There’s relief that he didn’t replace me so easily. That he still wants me to stay. And then there’s the guilt that I feel happy about that fact because I don’t plan on staying.
Shit, this is confusing.
“It’s rather rude to say that when poor Matt is sitting there,” I say weakly.
“Again, not a problem,” the young assistant says, still typing. “You should have heard Nathan Porter’s insults. I’m Teflon.”
