“That sucks,” Brandon sighs. “I hate group assignments.”
“It’s never fair,” I add. “One person always ends up doing all the work.”
“You need to tell someone,” Brandon says.
“You really do.” I sip my wine.
It’s Saturday night, and as usual, I’m out for dinner with Lara and Brandon.
My phone vibrates across the table, and I turn it over to see the name Porsha lighting up the screen.
Shit, she’s found out about Sebastian swapping last week.
She is going to fire me. Oh well… it’s not like I want to go back, anyway.
“I’ve just got to take this,” I say as I stand. “Back in a minute.” I rush toward the exit door and answer the phone. “Hello.”
“Hello, Cartier.”
“Hi, Porsha.”
“Darling, there has been a change of plans to this week’s roster.”
“Okay…” I frown.
“Mr. Smith has requested a private night with you so you will be working tomorrow night instead of Thursday.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“We have a platinum service here, and Mr. Smith has decided to option that. Come to the club and we will style you of course, but you won’t be taking place in the auction as usual.”
“Is that a thing?”
“It is very rare, I must admit.”
“But that’s not part of my job description.”
“Well-”
“No, thanks,” I cut her off. “I’m not interested in doing private nights with any of the clients. Least of all him.”
“I thought you liked Mr. Smith.”
My eyes bulge as I try to think of a professional reply. “I’m sorry. I’m just not interested.”
“Well, what will I tell him?”
“Whatever you want; I really don’t care. Tell him I’m washing my hair. Why don’t you organize Luna to take my place instead?”
Porsha chuckles. “Are you sure? He’s put in a very large bid.”
I roll my eyes. “Very sure. Thank you for the opportunity, though.”
Porsha exhales. “He won’t be happy.”
“Not my problem. I’ll see you Thursday night.”
“Yes, okay. Have a good night.”
I smile, feeling a little more of my power return. “Goodbye.” I hang up and walk back into the restaurant.
“Who was that?” Brandon asks.
“The café,” I lie, taking my seat again. “I got an extra shift.”
The morning sun beams through the café window.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“I’ll have an English breakfast tea with milk, please,” the customer says.
I type it into the computer. “And would you like a scone today, Mrs. Henderson?”
“Yes.” She grins. “You have a good memory.”
“How could I forget you? Take a seat and I’ll bring it out.”
I turn and put the order onto the coffee machine line for Lance, and then I go about getting her scone ready.
I go to the computer and address the next customer. “Can I help you?”
“Double macchiato,” a deep voice says.
I look up and into the stare of Sebastian. He’s wearing a navy suit and a crisp white shirt. His dark hair hangs over his beautiful face, and his lips are a perfect shade of come fuck me. A stupid thrill runs through me before I catch myself.
I look back down at the screen. “Is that everything, sir?”
He stays silent, forcing me to look up.
He raises an eyebrow, and I raise mine back.
“Is. That. Everything. Sir?” I repeat.
He clenches his jaw. “A word? Outside?”
“I’m sorry. I’m very busy. Do you want something with your macchiato or not?”
“Outside, now, or I’ll drag you out. The choice is yours.”
I fake a smile. “I’m not interested in what you have to say, Mr. Garcia.”
“April…” He glares at me. “You have three seconds to get your fucking ass outside before I drag you out there.”
“Go to hell,” I mouth, we glare at each other and that crazy anger bounces between us.
“What is your fucking problem?” he hisses.
I push his order into the computer, becoming a little flustered. “Leave me alone, Sebastian.”
Lance turns toward us.
“I’m just going to steal April for a moment.” Sebastian fakes a smile at Lance. “It’s a matter of urgency. She won’t be a minute”
Lance looks between us. “Okay.”
For God’s sake.
I march out and onto the street with Sebastian hot on my heels. He drags me around the corner into the alleyway.
“What is your fucking problem?” he snaps.
I cross my arms and roll my eyes. “I don’t have a problem.”
“I knew you’d fucking carry on.”
“Carry on?” I whisper angrily. “I’m not the one carrying on here, Sebastian. Go away.”
“It was a blind date that was organized weeks ago.”
“Fuck off. It clearly said she was your partner.”
“And you believe everything in the tabloids?”
“I don’t care, anyway.”
“We’re not together, April.”
“My point exactly.” I move to brush past him, he grabs me by the arm and pulls me back. “Stop it,” I whisper. “You’re too old for me, anyway.”
“Obviously, because it feels like I’m dealing with an errant teenager right now.”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment. He’s right; I am acting like a child, but screw it, I’m angry. I cross my arms in a huff.
“I didn’t touch her,” he says calmly.
I roll my eyes.
“It was a blind date that I didn’t organize. Besides, why would I want to go out with another woman when all I can think about is you?” My eyes meet his, and a trace of a smile crosses his face. “Now, are you finished with your tantrum?”
I twist my lips as I try to hold in my snarky tongue. “You made me feel like shit.”
He pauses for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
He tries to place his hand on my arm but I flick him off.
“You’re no good for me, Sebastian.”
He smiles his first genuine smile. “No shit.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “I don’t even care what you do.”
“Are you sure about that?” He steps forward, so he’s only inches from my face.
I drop my gaze to the ground, and he places his finger under my chin and brings my face up to his. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“It’s none of my business who you see.”
“You’re wrong,” he smiles. “It’s all of your business.”
His lips take mine, and he kisses me with just the right amount of suction, enough to curl my toes. “Come and stay with me tonight.”
My brows furrow. Fuck it, this was not in my game plan.
“I organized this so you don’t have to go to the auction on Thursday night. My bathrooms are being remodeled, and I’m staying at the hotel for a few nights. And Porsha owes me a favor.”
“What does that mean?”
“I drew up the plans for her renovation. She owes me.”
I raise my brow. “I’m the favor?”
He smiles as he rearranges my apron.