Well, so much for Sebastian’s sense of humor. Her phone beeped again.
And tell Brian that if he’s even a fraction less annoying than you, he’s got the job.
Helen’s hoot earned her a look from Brian that made her quickly pocket her phone, and she didn’t see Sebastian’s next text until she sat in the sun to eat her lunch.
I’ll be back at 4 p.m. I’d like to check out Weston before tomorrow’s event. Want to drive out with me?
Helen replied with a series of thumbs-up emojis, her stomach flipping with excitement. She loved the sea as much as she loved the countryside and hadn’t been to the beach since Tom had driven her, Emma and Ada there several years ago. But later in the day, when Sebastian finally returned to the Get Living Center, Helen’s stomach flipped again. A drive out to the coast wasn’t the only thing she’d been looking forward to.
Sebastian strolled toward her across the lawn like he’d done exactly a week ago, only this time he didn’t look like he wanted to kill her. He wore gray trousers and a crisp white shirt, his top button undone and his tie gone. A man no longer on the clock. A blush of anticipation heated Helen up inside as she recalled that first impromptu kiss in front of dozens of reporters.
“How you doing, Hobbs?” Sebastian dug his hands in his pockets.
Stand down. No fire in the hole required today. The workmen had already gone home, and Brian was cleaning tools in the shed. “I’m good. How was London?”
“It was pretty awesome.” Sebastian rocked back on his heels. “The weather forecast doesn’t look great for tomorrow though, and Brenda still thinks we need a stronger PR gimmick to really get the campaign off the ground, but we’re in a good position to launch.”
“How’s Evie Adams?”
“They’ve scheduled a C-section on Sunday, a month early. Turns out that’s why Mikey wanted me in so many meetings this week. He’s handed over more of the campaign management to me.” Sebastian glanced around the garden, taking in the flower beds she’d prepared yesterday, ready for planting. “You’ve been busy.”
“Thirty-eight hours done, twelve left to go.” Helen cheered. “I’ll be finished here on Tuesday.”
“Time to celebrate with a drive to the beach.”
“And a big bag of chips for dinner?” She grinned hopefully. “I’m hungry.”
“You can’t just eat chips for dinner.”
“You’re probably thinking ofcrisps, the thin, crunchy,crispythings that come in a packet.” Helen began to pack away her tools. “But chips here are hot, big and chunky and soft.”
“They’re still fried potato, packed with unsaturated fat and salt,” Sebastian said, bending to pick up a rake.
“That’s why they’re so nice.” Her stomach rumbled at the thought of sinking her teeth into the warm, salty delight. “Add in the vinegar and sea air and”—she kissed her fingers—“delicious!”
“Tell that to your clogged arteries.”
But Sebastian’s eyes were definitely twinkling with amusement.
An hour later, Helen directed Sebastian to the Uphill end of the beach where they parked the car, then strolled along the Seafront Promenade. The tide was out, exposing dark wet sand. A stiff breeze whipped hair across Helen’s face, and she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head to keep the wind from freezing her ears off. “Welcome to Weston-super-Mare.”
Sebastian took in their surroundings with a three-sixty turn. He’d changed into shorts and a T-shirt before they’d left the Get Living Center but now had his thick Strive hoodie zipped up to his chin. The perfect British beach attire. “Man, I’ve been craving big air all week. This is awesome.”
Helen understood Sebastian’s relief. She hadn’t been to London since the day she and Tom had boarded the train out west, but the concrete steps and brick balconies of the Germaine Estate tower block were still heavily engrained in her mind. They’d lived at ground level, and although she and Tom had often run up to the top floor to look at the London city skyline, the gray buildings were all she could really remember.
Helen and Sebastian strolled along the wide, paved promenade toward Marine Lake, which was a good mile and a half away. Helen kept pace with Sebastian enjoying how he studied and took in every detail. Get Living flags and fliers advertising the opening event decorated lampposts and noticeboards. When they drew closer to the Grand Pier, the signage and branding increased, and across Beach Road, which ran alongside the promenade, stalls and sporting arenas had already been erected.
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Helen asked.
Sebastian shook his head. “I was. But it’s like getting ready for a swim meet. We’re prepared, so I rely on that preparation.”
“Success isn’t random.”
Sebastian tilted his head. “You really were listening last week.”
“Only in between snores.”
He chuckled, a nice sound that blended sweetly with the cries of seagulls hovering above them. They continued along the promenade, alongside dog walkers, wheelchair users, and children on bikes and scooters, their parents trailing behind ladened with sandy beach toys.
