Sebastian Garcia is a born leader. Driven and focused. I've listened to him deliver at least fifteen speeches in the last two days, and every single time I've been riveted. He's strong and non-apologetic, but his message is good—always good.
I get why they call him the people’s politician. He really does put the people and their needs first.
Bart comes back to stand beside me. He leans in and whispers, "We've got a problem."
"What's that?" I keep my eyes on Sebastian.
"Gerhard is at the next venue."
"Meaning what?"
"It's being televised."
I frown, still confused.
"He's only at press releases when he wants to stir trouble."
"You think he's here about Theodore?"
"Why else would he drive three hours and only attend the televised release? He's going to blow the story out of the water. We're fucked."
I lean in and whisper, "Didn't you say that we have to enter via the back entrance at the next venue to avoid the protestors who are there about the proposed roadworks?"
"Yes."
"Then, let the protestors into the press release."
He frowns.
"If they televise the protestors, there won't be airtime left for speculation, will there?"
He raises his eyebrow. "Plant a distraction?"
"Attack is the best form of defense, Bart," I whisper as I stare straight ahead. "And the public already know about the roadworks. With the protestors causing havoc, it'll be cut short. No time for questions."
A trace of a smile crosses his face. "I like the way you think, Bennet."
"If Gerhard wants to play games, we’ll play them harder."
Bart takes out his phone and walks off to make a phone call in private.
I turn back to Sebastian, and I watch him speak with such conviction and honor. I smile to myself. Maybe I will like this job, after all.
Not today, Gerhard.
Not today.
We’re sitting in the bar, watching the televised recap of this afternoon’s press conference.
The protestors clamber along the side of the streets, yelling abuse while holding placards. We watch on as Sebastian gets whisked out and into a waiting black Audi.
We threw Sebastian to the lions this afternoon. The press release lasted all of eight minutes, and my plan worked like a charm.
As Sebastian is whisked away, our group smile, chatter, and they raise their drinks to the television screen, excited that we held the story. At least for today.
We head back to London tomorrow, back to reality. Who knows what will happen then?
Sebastian is sitting by the fire with three men. He's pensive this afternoon, and I know that the protestors ruffled his feathers. But he did what we had to do. He still hasn’t looked at me once, and although I hate to admit it, I'm beginning to feel rejected. "I'm going to head to my room," I say.
"Great work today, April." Bart smiles. "You did good."
"Thanks." I look around at the people I’m sitting with. "Goodnight."
I take the elevator and head back to my room, where I pour myself a glass of wine and run a hot bath.
I hear a knock at the connecting door, and I smile when I open it. Big, brown eyes meet mine, and Sebastian steps forward to take me in his arms.
"Finally." He kisses me. It's tender and loving, with just the right amount of suction.
"Hi," I smile.
"Hi," he breathes against my lips. His hand slides beneath my robe, and he cups my behind.
He's different tonight.
Sated.
Last night he was here because he had to be. Tonight, he's here because he wants to be.
"I need a shower," he whispers.
"Okay." I try to step back but he pulls me closer and kisses me again. "Let me rephrase that. We need a shower."
I lie in the darkness and listen to Sebastian's regulated breathing. He's fast asleep, and like the creeper I am, I'm lying on my side, watching him. His dark hair and skin are a contrast to the white bedlinen. His big, red lips are slightly parted. His black, thick lashes fan across his face.
Breathe him in.
He was right: there is nothing more intoxicating than the scent of the person you want.
Just like last night, we fed on each other for hours until our bodies couldn’t take or give anymore.
Every time with him just gets better. Every time, I find something new. A deeper connection.
It scares me.
Because, right now, I'm taken back to the twenty-five-year-old who was besotted with the man she's currently staying in a hotel with. The man she hardly knows.
The man she has every reason to despise.
I'm unsure if this is a good thing, but what I do know is that I couldn’t stop it even if I tried.
"I'll have a double latte and a cappuccino, please," I tell the server behind the cash register. "And two turkey, Swiss cheese, and cranberry sauce toasted sandwiches, please."
"Sure thing." She smiles and puts my order into the computer.
It's 3:00 p.m. on Friday afternoon. Bart and I haven’t had lunch yet. We are across town. He's dealing with a client who is in tears back at her apartment. Her husband, who is a currently touring as a drummer in an iconic rock band, has just been arrested in Denmark on pornography charges. Bart is trying to figure out a plan of action and posting bail. How serious the charges are is unclear at this stage.
It’s a fucking mess. Who knew celebrities were such nightmares.
This job is exhausting. I’ve been away all week, and now this. I had to duck out and get us something to eat before we both fainted.
I pay my bill and take a seat as I wait for my order.
I'm not sure what's going on this weekend, or what’s going on with Sebastian.
After he kissed me goodbye yesterday morning, I haven’t seen or heard from him. And I'm not asking or calling him. The ball is now in his court. If he wants this, he has to pursue it.
I've made it quite clear where I stand. Maybe a little too well.
At the tender age of thirty-one, I'm done with playing games.
Sebastian Garcia lights me up more than any other man ever has… even my ex-husband, and that’s saying something because at the time, I thought he was the bee’s knees. I've been going over Sebastian's excuse over what happened all those years ago, and looking back at it from his side, I get it.
He had to stand by Brandon. He did the right thing. Even though I got stomped on in the process, what kind of father would he have been if he put a woman before his son? Someone he had known for all of two weeks.
The fact that he put his son—not even his son, but another man's child that he took on—before himself says a lot about his character. There's a lot to like about Sebastian Garcia.
His work ethic, his stance on policies, his intelligence.
His body.
His words come back to me:
There's nothing more intoxicating than the scent of the woman you want.
The woman he wants. Wouldn’t that be something? I smile to myself, feeling bashful over how intense our lovemaking was. To say it was incredible would be an understatement.
"Your order is up," the waitress calls to me.