Abby had returned from a mission, excited to be alive, only to find herself alone. Sebastian had found himself drunk and alone late at night a year ago today. With the turbulent emotions and grief over his mother’s death coupled with the horrible bourbon he’d consumed, he had accepted what she’d offered. One night to not be alone. Now Abby was happily married and here he was, sitting once again, drunk and by himself.
Sebastian played back the wedding in his mind. No matter how beautiful the bride was, Sebastian’s eyes hadn’t been on her. Instead they were on a pair of silver-green eyes that looked as if they were almost a metallic sage color.
Sebastian let out a sigh. Greer Parker, Dylan’s cousin, wasn’t for him. She was a nice woman with an easy smile and would end up with the boy next door. He would crush her spirit in a week.
He’d talked to Greer for the first time at the wedding. She’d been dancing and drinking. Her cheeks had the perfect natural flush to them and her eyes shone with pure happiness. She’d tossed her head back and laughed with utter abandon. Sebastian hadn’t been able to turn away.
He’d seen Greer head for the bar and cut through the crowd to join her there. Most women would drop at his feet if he even looked their way. He was rich, he was handsome, and he wielded his power like a sword. However, Greer didn’t seem to care. In fact, no one at this wedding did. He had tried to think of a way to introduce himself when Greer did it for him. She’d turned that sweet smile on him and had said, “You’re Sebastian Abel. Abby’s friend with benefits. I’m surprised you’re here.”
Her forthright greeting had thrown him for a loop, and he had to admit he liked it. Most people he met only said what he wanted to hear. “Of course I’m here. She’s my friend.”
“Speaks highly of you to be able to stay friends,” Greer had said. “Want to dance?”
“I don’t dance.”
She’d laughed again as if calling him on his bullshit. “Right. See you around, Bash.” She’d shot the tequila, sent him a saucy grin, and left.
She hadn’t tried to talk him into it. She hadn’t tried to suck up to him. She’d just left him standing there. But that was probably a good thing since Sebastian didn’t do relationships. He couldn’t afford to. With Abby, he’d known he was safe. Safe to not care. Safe to not call the next day. Safe to be too busy to answer the phone. Safe to put business first. One look at Greer Parker and he knew he’d never be safe again.
Every relationship he’d tried before had resulted in whining, tears, and things thrown at him for not paying enough attention, not spoiling them enough, not taking them on vacation . . . Hell, Sebastian hadn’t ever had a vacation. He worked constantly. Even if he traveled to someplace tropical to his own resorts, he wasn’t there to lie on the beach. He was there to work. His previous girlfriends didn’t get that. That’s why he’d just decided to let the idea of a relationship go.
Then why couldn’t he stop thinking of Greer?
2
Washington D.C., present day . . .
“You figured it out, didn’t you?” Birch asked with a grin that almost made Sebastian smile.
“You know I did.” Sebastian had never failed after his mother died. Never.
“Tell me about it,” Birch said as he eagerly leaned forward over his desk in the Oval Office.
“I think it can be improved on greatly, but Erwin wants to use his design so I made the best from what I was allowed to do with a stupid idea. I don’t know how invisible it will be, but it’s smaller than your other spy satellites. The goal is to use a retractable arm to attach to the satellite and mimic their antenna so that we can basically steal anything they are sending or receiving,” Sebastian said, simplifying it to very basic terms. “I developed the code that will trick the satellite relays and the ground antennas into thinking our satellite is theirs. I could do better if this was a private-sector thing and I didn’t have to disclose my project to the government. And if Erwin would let me do it my way.”
“I understand, but at least we have progress and not a moment too soon,” Birch said, leaning back in his leather chair. “The NSA is getting reports of the Chinese trying to build their own new weaponized satellite, and we’ve also caught someone trying to hack DARPA. The sooner we get this up and running, the better. I feel as if I’m about to walk into battle blind and that’s not a good feeling.”
“I’m on my way to DARPA headquarters in Arlington right now to meet with Erwin and the team to enter my code into the programming,” Sebastian said, pushing up to stand.
“Where’s the code now?” Birch asked, his brows creasing as if Sebastian should be carrying a briefcase with the detonation codes handcuffed to his arm.
Sebastian tapped his temple. “Right here. The safest place in the world. I memorized it and then burned all the paper I used to develop it. Tech guys like me are always deeply suspicious of technology. Look at what we’re doing—creating a digital space spy. Gone are the days of passing coded messages. If I don’t want anyone stealing info, I keep the only copy right here in my head.”
Birch shook his head and grinned. “Paranoid much?”
The door opened and Sebastian immediately tensed, but relaxed when Birch’s wife, Tate, came in carrying two packages under one arm and their newborn daughter in the other.
“Oh good, you’re still here,” she smiled up at him. Sebastian liked Tate. He’d thought she was a pushover when he first met her, but she was nothing of the sort. She and Birch were a great team.
“You just caught me. How’s my goddaughter?”
“Spoiled rotten with the gifts you send her. Here you go,” Tate said, handing him a package.
“What’s this?” Sebastian asked as she set the second one on the desk and Birch practically lunged for it.
“Marcy Davies’s apple pie. She must want something from you for you to get one,” Tate said, grabbing a fork and practically fighting Birch for the first bite.
“Wait, she sent this to me? Why would Dylan’s grandmother send me a pie? What could she want from me?” Sebastian asked as he looked at the box with suspicion. “Oh, I bet I know. She wants to stay at one of my hotels and they’re out of rooms. Sure, tell her I can make a call.”
Tate shrugged and took another bite of her pie. “I’d sell out my husband for one of these pies. Do whatever she wants.”
Sebastian stood up and took the box with him as he began to leave the oval office. He didn’t want to show it, but his mouth was watering at the smell of the pie. “I need to get going.”
“I’ll see you at your place tonight,” Birch said, stopping Sebastian in his tracks.
He pushed down the emotion and nodded without turning around. Another year and another bottle of Drunk Dog Whiskey as he thought about the one time he failed. If only her illness had come two years later. If only his mother was still here. She was his light, his goodness, his only family, and his support. And now all that fueled him was pain, anger, and revenge.
Sebastian strode through the White House as if he owned it. It was decorated for Christmas even though that had been a couple of days before. Tate liked to leave the decorations up until after New Year’s Day. Secret Service nodded to him, the staff smiled at him, the aides looked nervously at him, but he never slowed until he was out the door.