Manalive!
Helen stood at the washbasin in the hotel’s plush bathroom, scrolling through Sebastian Clarke articles on her phone.
Holy crap!His mother was some high-profile politician, his recently deceased father some corporate lawyer for an energy company, and Sebastian himself? Exactly what she’d just seen, a ridiculously fit Olympic athlete who was way too handsome for his own good, especially in the many images of him by a pool wearing nothing but tight swimwear.
She skimmed a few articles about Sebastian caught drunk in Las Vegas with some showgirls then scrolled through dozens of pictures of him with a variety of stunning women. Helen really didn’t understand why someone like him needed to pay for a date, but she had other, more immediate things to think about right now.
Like how she was going to get past him and out of this hotel without him seeing her.
Back in a sec?More likenever.
The moment he’d mentioned contracts, Helen knew she wouldn’t be impersonating Cassie Phillips—nor anyone else. That was a crime, and she couldn’t commit any more of those, especially when she was only three hours into her probation period. If not for Pencil Neck, she would’ve told Beefcake the truth straightaway, but Helen had been too scared of Liz getting into trouble, and when she’d heard that tiny little wordjob, her drunken brain had immediately been lured into finding out more.
And—wowzers—what a job!
Two hundred pounds per date for essentially doing fuck all?Was this seriously how that discreet poet woman would be earning her money this summer?
Well, Helen wasn’t going to find out. For all she knew, Cassie Phillips could be speaking to the hotel receptionist right this very second, asking for Sebastian Clarke. And, worse still, Sebastian might’ve already met her, scratching his head over who the hell he’d just been speaking to for the past twenty minutes about his rules, contracts, and flipping PDA.
Helen had to leave—now!But glancing around her, she noted the lack of windows.
Shitballs.
Unless she could get to Liz to ask about a back exit, the only way out was to sneak through the main entrance and past Sebastian Clarke, who may or may not be with the real Cassie Phillips.
Well done, Helen, another fine mess.
Feeling sick and far from sober, Helen drank water straight from the tap. The food she’d in effect stolen had lodged in her chest in aserve you rightkind of way, and the honey-smooth alcohol buzz she’d briefly enjoyed earlier threatened to turn into a grinding headache.
She stared at herself in the mirror. Droplets of water glistened around her mouth and dripped off her chin in a most attractive way. She pictured hotel security throwing her out onto the street, her girlie bag smacking the back of her head as she landed splat on her knees.
If Pencil Neck found out it was Liz who’d given her the access badge, Liz could lose her job. And what if Pencil Neck called the police? Helen really would be back in court quicker than she could sayJaxon Bates.
“Are you okay?” A woman with red hair, who’d just stepped out of a cubicle, joined Helen at the basins to wash her hands. “You look like you’re about to throw up.”
“Perfect. Just the look I was going for.” Helen wiped her mouth with a paper towel, recognizing the redhead as one-half of the coffee-drinking couple from the courtyard. “Daytime drinking is never a good idea, is it?”
“Depends on the occasion.” Redhead shrugged. “Is that Sebastian Clarke you’re with?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I’m with him, but I’m not, like,withhim. Exactly.” Helen dabbed her forehead dry, feeling uncomfortably hot. “We’re just … friends.”
“Cool. I heard he’s replacing Daniel Jones.”
Helen winced. ThisGet Living thing seemed to be a big deal. Another reason why she should get the hell out.
“Want some lip gloss?” Redhead offered up a small pinkish pot. “It doubles up as blusher if you want to rub some on your cheeks. You’re looking very pale.”
Helen saw that she was right, thanked her, and dabbed color back onto her face. When she handed the pot back, Redhead held the door open, and Helen had no choice but to step back through it.
“He’s so good-looking,” she said, halting just as Helen had been about to dip behind her and make her escape.
“Who?” Helen edged closer to the wall, but Redhead kept getting in her way.
She nodded toward the foyer. “Sebastian Clarke.”
Helen looked up, laser-beamed by Sebastian’s surprisingly sweet and charming smile.
Damn.
