Hot Bastard Next Door: A Boy Next Door, Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

  “But we could always stay a few extra days to look around or enjoy the beach. If you want,” he added.

  Of course, I wanted to, but the idea of taking a real vacation with Sebastian felt strange. It felt a little too personal. Besides, I knew it was never good to mix business with pleasure. That led to things getting complicated very quickly.

  “Whatever you want, boss,” I said. “I'm just thankful for the opportunity to go at all.”

  And I was. Oh God, I was. I'd always wanted to visit Bali, but never had a chance and honestly, never thought I would. And not only would we be visiting, we'd be flying via private jet. It just sounded so luxurious, I could hardly believe this was my life. It all felt so surreal.

  “I'll make sure you enjoy it,” he said with a wink.

  “I'm sure you will, Sebastian,” I said.

  The silence between us was more than a little awkward, as if yet again, I'd managed to turn something innocent into something flirtatious. Not that I'd intended to – well, not really. I was so confused over my intentions. But deep down, I knew there was no way I could actually be with Sebastian. Even if he was a dreamboat and I admired the hell out of him, he was off-limits. Or rather, I was very much off-limits to him.

  “So umm – this is one of your favorite places?” I asked, looking around the restaurant.

  It was a high-end restaurant, the type of place you'd except celebs to frequent. And that's when my eyes fell on a familiar face. I nearly choked on my drink as soon as our eyes met.

  “What is it?” Sebastian asked, but he didn't have to wait for my answer because Jessica marched over to us, her face red as she started yelling at us from across the room.

  “How fucking dare you, Sebastian? Bringing another girl to our sushi place?” she screamed, scowling at me.

  I took her outburst to mean she didn't recognize me. We'd met before, but she seemed like the type who wouldn't remember someone she considered beneath her unless it somehow benefited her, anyway.

  Sebastian stood up, hands in the air in a surrender pose. “Listen, Jess, it's not like that. She's my assistant. ”

  “Assistant? You never had a fucking assistant before,” Jessica said, standing across from Sebastian with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

  Her black dress clung to her every curve, her cleavage was showing, almost too much so, and her blonde hair was in a high ponytail that flowed down her back. She towered over me at the table in her stilettos and I couldn't have felt more awkward if I'd tried.

  Seriously, I could not understand what Sebastian had ever seen in her; not at all. But I guess he was a typical man, going for the hot blonde in the high heels and tight clothes. I looked down at my hands, trying to avoid the stares from other diners in the restaurant.

  “Seriously, Sebastian? Our place? Our restaurant?” she fumed. “And you bring this little tramp.”

  “Hey!” I said. “That's the pot calling the kettle black, Jessica.”

  “How do you know my name?” she asked, staring down at me, her face a mask of rage.

  “Because we've met before,” I said. “I'm Chuck Maddox's daughter.”

  She looked momentarily stunned, but then picked up right where she'd left off. “Going after your buddies' daughters now? Like 'em young, do you?”

  “Jess, if you'd just shut up long enough for us to explain, you'll see how ridiculous, and embarrassing, you're being. Not that I owe you an explanation or anything.”

  “No, I guess you don't, asshole,” she said. She picked up a glass of water from the table and threw it in Sebastian's face. “And to think, I stopped by to reminisce about you and the good times we had. And I find you here with your jailbait little tramp in our place. What a fucking jerk.”

  She started to turn and leave, tears in her eyes. And of course, everyone in the restaurant watched the show unfold. Surely, they thought the worst of us because it looked bad. Really bad. Sebastian sat back down, but my blood was boiling. No one had ever accused me of being a tramp before, and of all people to throw around such accusations, Jessica had no right.

  “Jessica,” I called out, standing up and facing her.

  She walked back toward me, hands on her hips, a face darkened by rage, and looked ready to fight. Though I doubt she'd risk breaking one of her perfectly manicured nails by actually throwing a punch.

  “Listen, believe what you want,” I said, “but Sebastian is a good man. He offered me this job as his assistant as a favor to my father – my dead father, mind you – and his best friend. Nothing more, alright? So, go ahead and throw your little tantrum, because you're the one looking like a fool here, not us. We're enjoying a work lunch, which is something people who have jobs do sometimes. Not like you'd know.”

  I sat back down in my seat without another word, and the entire restaurant remained quiet. It felt good to get all of that off my chest. Sebastian smiled at me, shaking his head as if I'd surprised him. Hell, I'd surprised myself with that little outburst. But I'd be lying if I said it hadn't felt good.

  Jessica might have said something back but I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy staring into Sebastian's eyes, trying my hardest to not break out in laughter over everything that had just happened.

  It didn't work. We both started giggling like idiots at our fancy sushi lunch. Jessica made her way out of the restaurant in a huff. Sebastian and I had our moment and it felt like we were the only two people in the entire restaurant for the rest of our lunch.

  “Bali, huh?” my mom said as we sat down for dinner that night. “Seems a little fast, don't you think?”

  “Well, I am his assistant,” I said with a shrug. “I'd say it's not too strange for me to accompany him on business trips. It just so happens his business takes him to some exotic places. It’s a nice little perk for me.”

  “I suppose so,” my mom said, pursing her lips.

  My mom and I looked a lot alike. Sometimes, I imagined I'd grow up into an older version of her, right down to the way she wore her hair pulled back into tight little buns. But now, as I grew into my own, I realized that while we might look alike, we were totally different women.

  “I'm just so grateful for this opportunity,” I gushed. “To work for Sebastian? To go to Bali and wherever else this job might take me? I never imagined this for myself. It's everything dad would have wanted for me.”

  My mom sipped her wine and listened as I continued to talk about the job. Every once in a while, she'd nod her head or smile and say, “That's nice,” between bites of her kale salad. But was she really listening? I couldn't be sure. She wasn't interested in this life. The business world had been my father's thing. My mom was simply meant to be a housewife.

  And since dad's passing, she seemed lost; her sense of purpose gone. That was why I spent so much time with her, reminding her that she still had me. And yes, that meant talking about my life, even when it was clear she wasn't entirely interested in all the little details. Not the way dad would have been at least.

  “Sounds like you and Sebastian really hit it off,” mom commented, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “He's fantastic. I've always admired him, but now that I get to see him every day at work, I see why he and dad were such good friends. He's a great guy, and smart too.”

  “Uh huh,” mom said, putting her wine glass down and staring at me for a long time. “So, you admire him? Is that all?”

  I was taken aback by her bluntness. “What are you getting at?”

  “I'm just wondering if your childhood crush might cause some problems, Violet, that's all.”

  “It was nothing but a childhood crush, mom,” I said, feeling myself blush even more now that it was out in the open.

  My crush on Sebastian growing up had been obvious. I literally wrote his name all over my notebooks with hearts around it. Hell, even he knew I had a thing for him at the time, but I prayed to God he'd forgotten all about that.

  “And yes, I admire h
im,” I said. “In a business sort of way. There's nothing more to it. He's giving me a chance to get my foot in the door in this industry and I'm appreciative of that opportunity. That’s all it is.”

  That was a lie. I did feel more than just admiration for him, but I sure as hell wasn't going to tell my mother that. Truth be told, I craved him in a way I couldn't explain or say out loud. It was my little secret. My childhood crush had never gone away, it had merely blossomed into a grown-up crush; one that was a little more serious, even if it was still very much unrealistic.

  CHAPTER SIX - VIOLET

  “Ready for Bali?” Sebastian asked me as we walked toward the private jet. “Hope you packed your swimsuit, because we're going to have a little downtime once we get there and you're going to want to take a dip in the water down there. It's seriously amazing.”

  The idea of wearing my bikini around Sebastian was nerve-wracking, to say the least. Not that I looked bad in a bikini, but does any woman ever truly feel comfortable in one? Sure, it was fine most of the time, but Sebastian dated some of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. He’d been with women with bodies that rivaled those of supermodels, and I was just little ol' me. I didn't have the lingerie model body or their confidence either, which made it twice as uncomfortable.

  “Yes, I brought it,” I said meekly. “Just in case. But I do plan on doing my job and taking this trip very seriously, you know.”

  “I'm all about a work-life balance, Violet,” he said with a wink as we boarded the plane. “There has to be some perks to working as much as we do, right?”

  I heard him talking to security earlier, making sure the guards knew that Jessica was to not be boarding this flight after all. I guess she was originally supposed to be going with him and he seemed concerned she might try to sneak her way onto the plane anyway. The thought was sad and pathetic, but after what happened at the restaurant the other day, I wouldn't have put it past her. I knew she still called regularly, and it annoyed Sebastian to no end, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

  “All clear, sir,” one of the crew members said as we took our seats.

  I wondered if that was a code word for no sign of Jessica?

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Thank you, Danny.”

  There were two glasses of champagne waiting for us as we took our seats. He handed me one and then took a long sip of his as he relaxed back into his seat. I'd never flown in a private jet before, so I was still taking everything in and getting used to feeling like I was suddenly one of the rich and famous.

  It was a small plane that had enough seats for four people in the cabin, but that was it. In addition, the seats had plenty of room to lay back and could be turned into beds, for the longer flights, of course. There were privacy curtains around each one too, in case we wanted some privacy for our in-flight naps.

  A girl could get used to this kind of life, I thought. But it was probably better I don't get used to it. This was my job for now, and Sebastian was spoiling me out of guilt for what happened to my dad. This wasn't something that would likely happen again with any other employer, or likely even regularly while I was working for Sebastian.

  I stared out the window, sipping my champagne as we took off. I watched the clouds race beneath us and kept to myself, for the most part. Sebastian looked as if he wanted to sleep; not that I blamed him for it. It was a long flight and I figured I'd eventually try to get a little sleep myself, once the excitement of everything wore off.

  “Would you like some music?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  He hit a button on the armrest of his seat and the sound of soft jazz filled the cabin. I'd never really listened to jazz before, but my father had, and it reminded me of him. I stared out the window as the tears started to well up in my eyes. I bit my tongue hard, willing those damn tears not to fall.

  “I'm sorry,” he said softly, stopping the music. “I forgot that your father shared my love of jazz.”

  “No, it's fine,” I said, wiping the tears away before looking at Sebastian with a smile. “Keep it on. It's nice actually.”

  “You sure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Positive.”

  He hesitantly pressed the button again, continuing with the music, and I closed my eyes. It reminded me of my father sitting in his study with the same sort of soft music in the background. Mom used to say that the music put him in a good mood, and often I'd find them dancing together to the music in his office. My dad was a romantic at times, and liked to take my mom dancing when he could – and when he couldn't, he turned his office into a private ballroom for the two of them.

  So, of course, the music made me think of love and romance. It was a nice addition to the touch of sadness that came along with my memories.

  I opened my eyes and found Sebastian staring at me. I so badly wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I found myself afraid of what me might say. Would he say it was a mistake to bring me along? Would he talk about my dad and make me cry even more? So many people felt pity for me, and I hated it. But the look in Sebastian's eyes wasn't one of pity, it was one of awe, as if for whatever reason, he was admiring me. And as soon as our eyes met, he looked away, an expression of guilt upon his face. It was as if he were scolding himself for the thoughts running through his mind.

  That of course, piqued my curiosity and made me want to ask even more than ever.

  Before I could stop myself, I did. “What are you thinking about, Sebastian?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN - SEBASTIAN

  Her question caught me off-guard and I knew I couldn't tell her what I was thinking; that she was beautiful, that she was strong like her father, and that she blew me away in every way. Despite the fact that it was all true, it felt like it would be a bit creepy to say out loud.

  Considering the fact that I was her father's best friend and was way too old to be entertaining such thoughts about her, I decided I should keep my admiration to myself.

  “That you remind me a lot of your father,” I said, keeping my thoughts to something more appropriate for the situation. “And your mother. You have the best of both of them, Violet, and that's amazing to me.”

  I'd never had children of my own, and sometimes I regretted that decision. In many ways, Violet was as close to a daughter as I was likely ever going to get, but it felt incredibly weird to think of her like that. She was a young woman now; a bright, ambitious, and beautiful young woman. If the situation was any different, I'd be hitting on her nonstop. And I could see myself settling down with someone like her.

  My history with women had been rocky, to say the least. Jessica wasn't the first clingy, needy, and emotionally unstable ex from my past. I seemed to draw in the needy women, which was something I was completely at a loss to explain.

  Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I was just attracted to those types of women. I had a type all right – fake boobs, fake lips, fake tan, blonde hair, you name it. Not that I found all that fakeness more beautiful than natural beauty, it's just women like Violet always scared me off. She was too smart, too ambitious, and yes, even as a strong male, that scared the crap out of me.

  Up until now, that was. Because Violet wasn't scary. Nothing about her was scary.

  She looked down at her hands, something she'd always done when put in an uncomfortable situation, or when she was trying not to say something. It was her biggest tell. She was a sweet girl, but as I witnessed at the restaurant recently, she could stand up for herself and others if push came to shove. There was a backbone of steel inside of her and she wasn't one to take shit from anybody.

  Watching her stare down at her hands like that unnerved me, because she shouldn't be uncomfortable. Not with me. If I was doing something to make her uncomfortable, it needed to stop. I needed to do everything in my power to make her feel safe.

  “What's wrong, Violet?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, biting her lip and continuing to stare at her hands as she picked at the polish on her
thumb nail.

  “What are you thinking?” I pressed.

  She blushed, and I remembered the teenage crush she used to have on me all those years ago. I recalled how every time I spoke to her, she turned bright red and tried to hide her face from me.

  “Well, I just don't know how to respond when you say such nice things about me, Sebastian,” she said softly. “Because you know how I feel about you.”

  I had to wonder, had her childhood crush ever subsided? From the way she looked up at me though, I thought I had my answer.

  My heart raced as I realized that perhaps, Violet still had feelings for me. And truth be told, I had some feelings for her; feelings I knew weren't right. Feelings I shouldn't be having about the daughter of my best friend.

  I quickly looked away and chugged the rest of my champagne, needing a moment to compose myself and get my head on straight.

  She too, drank the rest of her glass and silently stared out the window for some time.

  It probably wasn't the best idea to be drinking so much alcohol while in such close quarters with her considering the fact that I was already starting to feel things for her. We seemed to be treading some very dangerous water.

  I had another glass of champagne that I hoped would encourage me to fall asleep, but I was having no luck.

  Violet sat there, staring out the window, and every time I looked over at her, I couldn't help but smile and couldn't stop my pulse from quickening. She was so beautiful with her long hair flowing around her shoulders, and her soft, pale skin with a line of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was not at all like the women I usually dated, and perhaps that was why I felt such a strong attraction for her.

  “You know,” she said, speaking but not looking at me, “I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did. All I meant was that you’ve been such a big part of my life-”

  I cut her off as she continued to ramble. “It's okay, Violet. No need to explain yourself.”