Oh, but it was.None of this would’ve happened if Cassie had been his date last night—or if he hadn’t had a date at all. “Is there any chance we can salvage the deal with Nadine and Ashley? Nadine practically told me she’d like to help the campaign.”
“I’ve put another call in to their agent, but they’re inundated with requests to talk about the incident, which could be good for us if they mention the campaign.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course. We need all the mentions we can get,” Brenda said. “Now that we haven’t got Dan and Isabella, or The Wags, we need a PR gimmick … even a photograph or a rumor … orsomethingto get people talking about you and the campaign.”
Like those pictures of Nadine squeezing his bicep?
Seb didn’t like where this was going. Gossip of him and Nadine would get people talking all right, but it wouldn’t help his reputation. And if Brenda was still thinking along these lines after Helen’s grand declaration of love, did that mean she hadn’t fully bought the flowery bullshit after all?
“I’m sure we can work something out to generate publicity,” Seb said, just as the baby in the kitchen started to cry again. He ducked down the hall to escape the noise and pushed open the door of a room at the front of the house that had been left ajar. “Does Mikey know what happened?”
“Yes, and because he’s got bigger problems right now, he’s suggested we move all our meetings to London next week so he can join us for some of them.” Brenda briefly ran through a schedule for the next few days, and just when Seb thought she’d round up the call, she asked, “How is Helen?”
Pissed off and miserable.“She’s great.”
“Was that a baby I heard earlier?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, she’s not ours.”Now, that would be one gimmick too far.“Helen’s brother has dropped by with his wife and kids.”
“Part of the family already?”
“Of course.”
After he disconnected the call, Seb stared at the rows upon rows of apple trees through the window. It was good that Brenda had gotten the rightwrongimpression that he and Helen were playing happy families, but he hated the deepening of lies.
As he made to leave the room, a photograph on the wall of Helen caught his attention. All bright smiles and sparkling eyes, she was sitting on a garden bench next to a frail-looking old woman who held a baby in her arms. Tom stood next to them, looking so proud in a crisp blue suit that the baby must be Harry.
Seb stepped closer, taking a better look. Helen’s long legs, slinked out of a flowy pink dress, delicate and feminine, like a fairy, if not for the wild, messy hair and patch of blue ink on her shoulder.A rebel fairy.
As Seb turned to go, he noticed an old lady’s coat and hat hanging on a stand by the door. He glanced back at the room, realizing now why the decor had struck him as unusual. It was tidy. Minimally furnished and clutter free. The walls were painted a serene sky-blue and something medicinal clung in the air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where the old lady was now, and feeling like he was violating someone’s privacy, Seb left and closed the door gently behind him.
Out in the hall, he followed the strains of an argument back to the kitchen.
Helen’s voice. “But I don’t want to go back to school. There’s no point in me studying for a certificate that proves I know my stuff.”
Tom groaned, like a man about to repeat something for the hundredth time. “The certificate is to prove toother peoplethat you know your stuff.”
“But by the time I get qualificationsandget a job, the estate will be sold and who knows what will happen to the cottage.”
“The cottage is holding you back, stressing you out. Maybe it’s time to let it go.”
“No.”
Silence descended as Seb stood in the doorway.
“Don’t mind me,” he said, but his curiosity only earned him a glare from Helen.
“Your tea is there.” She jabbed a finger at a mug on the table. “Do you like scrambled eggs?”
“Yes, love them.”
“Good.”
“Need a hand?”
“No, sit down.”
