“Okay,” she says. “I am going to stop you right there. Life will definitely go on with or without her, but I like seeing this side of you.”
My grandma takes a big bite of her pizza, swallows it, and then chimes in again. “Look, you’re a great man and you deserve a great woman and all these people can just, you know, they don't like it that you're in love, that's their problem. I mean, that's how I feel. How do you think I fell in love with Earl? I was a waitress, I was eighteen, he was a manager, he was twenty-five. Trust me, the other waitress girls were not happy that I was the one who got the big guy here.”
“Big guy?” I frown my brow.
“They used to call me the big guy,” he says. “Hey, don't ask questions. Anyway, you got enough advice here. I really want to just kick back and talk some sports, enjoy this pizza. Trust me, your problem is that your problem is a lot smaller than you think it is. You just gotta tell her the truth, tell everyone, and do your best to give her everything she wants.”
“Give her what she wants,” I repeat, thinking about the words as I say them.
There was only one thing I wasn’t able to give Brett. At least, one thing that stands out.
I pour the wine and enjoy my pizza. My grandma's advice stays the best with me; sometimes you do just need a woman's perspective. Not to mention her blind faith in me.
I know exactly what Brett wants. Although it won’t be simple to give it to her.
I glance at my phone, and I can’t believe who I’m about to call. I love her enough that I’ve got to give her everything she wants. Even if she doesn’t want a future with me.
“So this girl,” my grandfather adds. “Do you love her?”
My heart swells at the very mention of ‘girl’ and ‘love’ in the same sentence, and my head fills with images of Brett.
“Yes.” I nod.
My grandfather shrugs. “Sometimes you just gotta tell the truth. And then see what happens.”
23
Brett
Another week passes with no word from Sebastian. I feel stressed in a way, like we have something unresolved.
Monday, I go into work to find an email invite for a task force meeting later that afternoon. When I arrive at the meeting, Kim stands in front of us, her attitude as brazen as ever. She always seemed a little bit too cocky for my liking and something about her didn't sit right with me. It especially doesn't sit right after what happened on that fateful Friday night a week and a half ago. Before Kim begins to speak, Troy, who is sitting next to me at our table, flashes a smile my way.
"So, what's up?" he asks simply.
"Nothing much. Just work work work,” I snicker.
He leans in and taps me on the shoulder with his pen.
"Work work work, huh? Look, I know there's more to you than work, Brett. And I want to learn about that other side of you sometime, if you'll let me." He squints at me, and I realize he’s not a bad looking man. Especially the way his dimples look when he smiles.
Although I’m not going to be doing anything with a man anytime soon. Not after what I’ve been through.
Before I have a chance to respond to him, Kim starts talking to us.
"This is a very special week because this weekend, we are going to have a few of us going to Nashville for the annual postharvest conference. Has anyone heard of the fall postharvest conference?" she asks. I look around, not many people raise their hand. I do, because my family are farmers and we know about this sort of thing.
"Oh Brett, joy, you know about the postharvest conference fantastic. What can you tell us about it?" Her tone is disdainful, as if I don’t have anything intelligent to say on the subject. I speak anyway.
"I went when I was six years old with my Dad. It was basically a bunch of farmers hanging out, having some cocktails--which I didn't understand at the time. I just sat by my father and listened to the live music."
My heart warms thinking of those old times with my father. The trip to Nashville was one of my first notable memories.
"Yes, that's pretty much correct. So, anyways, we are going to be picking a few of you to go and the instructions have come down from up high. Yes, Mr. Blackwell has instructed who will be going, and there will be three of you." My breath hitches because I haven't seen Sebastian since a week and a half ago. I wonder what he could be doing.
"The ones who are going to be going are..." she picks up a notepad. "Myself of course. Tro-oy," she says, as though it has two syllables. "Alena" she points at that girl to the side of me, the one who's an accounting specialist. "And ahh, Brett, you'll be going as well." My jaw drops because I was not expecting to be in this job and let alone, put into a task force.
"Oh hell yeah, Blue." Troy high fives me then grabs my hand and hangs on just an extra second too much. I sigh because Troy is a good-looking guy and he's not exactly my type, but that doesn't mean I would never ever consider going on a date with him.
But not anytime soon.
"So, ready to have some fun at this conference?" he asks.
"I guess," I mutter with a little bit of hesitance.
"Oh, come on, Blue. Let loose. What, you act like you got a boyfriend or something."
"Not exactly."
"Not exactly, huh? So, you have someone but you just don't know if he’s your boyfriend?"
"Had someone," I correct, and then I realize I’m giving Troy too much information.
"Well, I think Nashville is a great place for you to have someone else.” He winks.
We arrive on Friday morning, and spent most of the day at the booth. I talk to a lot of farmers about my own experiences growing up as a farmer's daughter. Big surprise, they're fascinated by me. As the day progresses, I enjoy myself, but I also realize I need to stay focused on work; which is kind of hard because everyone keeps talking about how Sebastian never misses this particular conference. When I think about Sebastian, my heart flutters, even though he has betrayed me from what I can tell.
I thought I could trust Sebastian, but in the end, who can really trust a billionaire playboy even if he was from your own hometown. I do feel bad for coming at him for something that wasn't really his fault, though. I mean, who am I to say "oh, you can't have a threesome with me" well, that's a hard line.
I more meant to just give him shit, but in my drunken state I don't know how it came out; probably harsh. It was more of just an excuse to push him away.
But that's my ultimate fantasy, that's what I thought about. I don't know where it creeped in originally, but it's there and it's not going away and if Sebastian and I are based on fantasies, well, he's going to have to give me it or was going to.
In my heart I know I wanted to be with Sebastian as more than my friend with benefits. And I loved him in a way that a school girl loves the unattainable. Sure, we'll never be together again, but a part of me wonders intensely what happened to him and where the hell he is right now. Why is he not at this conference that he always comes to?
The day passes and finally the nighttime hour arrives. We go to a team dinner with Kim, Troy, and all the other people. We eat in a fine Tennessee rib joint and by the end of it I feel full and decadent. My buzz courses through me.
"Well," Kim says, like a mother bird almost. "It's time for everyone to go back to their rooms."
When she says “their rooms” she looks specifically at me as though I'm a girl who's going to be up all night. I want to tell her 'listen, just because you happen to run into me in my apron does not mean that you know how I am all the time.' Instead of giving her any sort of look that will lead on what I'm thinking, I give her a blank smile; turning the corners of my mouth up, just slightly.
"Yes well, I have been known to have a good time especially at the Farmer's Conference," I say, and everyone at the table laughs.
Once the bills are paid we start to head out. Troy though, clasps me on the shoulder right as we head out the door and onto the street. I watch as Kim and the other girl get into a cab and drive off toward the hotel.<
br />
"Hey, you doing ok?" he asks.
"Yes, I’m fine."
"That doesn’t sound very convincing. What the hell was that look between you and Kim? I saw that."
"It was nothing," I say.
"Hey, just come with me. Let’s go grab a drink and think about some things. I want to ask you about writing."
My heart starts to beat a little bit faster.
How does Troy know about my writing?
I’ve mostly stopped working on the book at work, anyway.
"Writing?” I swallow. “What are you talking about?" He cocks his head just to the side.
"Look," he says. “Don’t worry about how I know. But I know what you're writing and I'm just curious. It seems really unique and awesome and I want to get to know the writer side of Brett a little bit better."
"Umm, you know, I should just go back to my room. I really don't think this is a good idea," I say.
"I just want to ask you five questions about writing and then we'll head back to the hotel. This is not a date.” He pauses. “I promise. Not a date.”
"Not a date," I repeat.
"I don't know what you think but I just think you're really cool Brett and I'm not trying to hit on you here. Come on, let's just go up this rooftop place I've picked out and have a good time." My ears perk up at the mention of an open air bar.
"Did you say a rooftop?"
"Yes, I got a rooftop place scoped out. It's at one of those hotels just down the road." I take a deep breath and inhale the Nashville night air.
"I will go and have one drink with you," I say.
"One drink.” Troy nods, and hails a cab.
Ten minutes later, we’re on the rooftop of a bar overlooking downtown Nashville. The crowds are loud below us. A male and female guitarist play covers of popular country songs in one corner of the bar.
"I still don't understand how you know about the writing," I say. Troy slides his drink over to his side. Tonight, he's drinking a beer and I'm drinking a Mojito. Troy takes a swig of his beer, a local craft brew.
"Don’t worry about how I know. But you really need to tell me about this writing thing and how you got started and all that. I’m curious."
My back stiffens; what on Earth am I supposed to tell Troy? That I half had an idea that I could write some sort of book and then I saw Sebastian and everything clicked and then Sebastian fucked me so well in every way, shape, and form that I couldn't not write the book?
Seems a little far-fetched if you ask me.
"Writing is just something that I've thought about since I was little," I say, giving him the stock answer. "And you have to tell me how on Earth you knew about my writing because I didn't tell almost anyone. I’m not dropping that."
Troy smiles only slightly, he leans in across the table.
"Now here's the thing," he says, his voice lower. "I don't want you to get freaked out about what we're about to do."
"What we're about to do?" My heartbeat quickens.
"Well, it will make sense in a minute." He taps the table three times and slides his beer to the end of the table, a cryptic gesture.
"Troy, could you tell me what's going on?" I say, suddenly panicked. I glance at the rest of the people in the crowd who are also on the rooftop, and when I see one particular individual, I freeze up like a deer in headlights.
Sebastian Blackwell stands in front of me, looking hotter than he’s ever looked.
His jaw is firm as he stares straight at me, his eyes serious. He wears jeans and a T-shirt through which I can see his six pack quite well. Those very chest muscles that I pushed away outside of The Watering Hole.
I speak slowly.
"What the hell is happening?" I say as Sebastian walks toward me.
My palms sweat, my pulse quickens. Something about this scene just seems very, very off but at the same time, I'm extremely turned on all of a sudden.
"Sebastian," I manage to choke. "What is going on? Why are you here?"
"Why else would I be here?" he says, his voice low and cool. "You're here.”
"I haven't seen you for a week and a half."
"Yeah well, you stopped answering my texts and calls, so I decided I would give you some space." His voice is low; lower than usual.
"Well, you didn't have to cut me off completely. I eventually texted you, I think." I reason.
He laughs.
"You think? Look Brett, you're amazing ok? You will never have any idea how amazing I really think you are and so, look, let's just not talk about this right now."
"Yes, I agree. Let's not talk about this right now." My eyes land on Troy. I'm about to cut in and ask him all the questions I'm currently wondering like, what the hell does Troy have to do with this? But Sebastian speaks first.
"Look, I own this bar."
"You do?" I say.
"Yeah, this was my childhood dream, to own a bar with a rooftop. So, let's go to one of the V.I.P. lounges where it will be a little bit more private." I look at Troy; his expression is calm, maybe a little bit nervous but he doesn't seem to be fazed by Sebastian and I's conversation which surprises me.
"Let's go," Troy agrees. We don't even pay, but Sebastian says it will be fine, so I follow him. We head over to a different section of the outdoor patio. We cut through and find ourselves in a certain corner of the place. There's a hot tub and a balcony over which we can see the entire city of Nashville; river and all. Some music drifts up toward us from a concert in a park somewhere. I freeze when I see the hot tub.
"Are we getting in the hot tub? I don't have a bathing suit.”
Sebastian snorts a little.
"Look, you don't have to get in if you don't want to, we can just sip champagne on the side of the balcony or..."
"Yeah, we'll just sip some champagne here on the side,” I say.
I stare at the hot water jets as they bubble.
"Or I can just get in and I'll dry off after,” I say, suddenly bold.
Me. A hot tub. Two sexy men.
What the heck is happening?
Both of men squint at me, and to say I’m turned on is an understatement.
I start to feel like I’m Lacy in the final scene of Bossman with Benefits.
"I’ll have some towels sent up," Sebastian says, and sends a quick text.
Troy looks on silently.
"Let's get into the hot tub, have some champagne, and enjoy this beautiful night." He's right, it is a beautiful night. It's 80 degrees in late fall, which is not always the case. The night air is hot-ish and crisp.
Troy takes off his pants and gets in in his boxers. Sebastian takes his off too, and submerges the lower half of his body while he’s in his briefs.
I hesitate, and my hands are fidgety. I clear my throat to speak, but nothing comes out. I look at the two attractive men, both leaning back, viewing me in my floral dress.
“Screw it,” I mutter to myself, and throw the thing over my shoulders. I take off my shoes, and slide into the water in my bra and panties.
Sebastian smiles, then reaches behind him. He hands each of us a champagne glass and fills it from his pre-opened bottle.
The champagne sounds loud as he tips the glass to pour, compared with how still the night air is in Sebastian’s private rooftop.
He stares at me with those deep brown eyes, and I feel myself surrendering to him, in spite of everything we’ve been through.
"Brett, I know this probably seems weird, but we're cheers-ing to you."
"We are?" I ask, my voice a little shaky. I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on.
"Yeah, we're cheering to your book that you've finished."
"How do you know I finished it? And for the love of all that’s good, please tell me how and why this is happening. Sebastian, how did you know I was here?”
Sebastian tips his chin up, and again, the look he gives me sends me chills that reverberate through my entire body.
"Cheers," they both say, raising their glasses.
I sit back, enjoying the feeling of hot water on my skin. It's a little bit too hot at first but once I'm in, it feels good and I'm pretty sure my drunkenness is amplified by the hot temperature. We clink our glasses together and take a drink, looking each other in the eye.
Sebastian takes a deep breath, and I know he’s got something on his mind. I wonder if it’s got anything to do with what’s on my mind.
“Now that I’ve got you, I want you to listen to me. Right before you walked into my life, I was miserable. The truth is I only saw victories in business and sure, I had my ups but in general I was only after profit. I see things totally differently now and I know you say you can never be with me; that you can never love a man like me who is a playboy and I understand that. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. I always will love you."
I swallow down more of the bubbly, dry champagne, shocked.
Sebastian is using the L word.
For me.
"I'll take some more of this please," I say, holding out my champagne glass. This just seems awkward right in front of Troy; I don't understand it. Sebastian refills my glass. Troy sits still in the water. He’s not super awkward, just curiously looking on at the two of us.
"I don't understand why you're telling me this now," I say. And I guess it's true what they say: A sober woman's thoughts are drunk woman's feelings. Because the next I know, I'm blurting out what's right up my sleeve.
"Why are you telling me this in front of Troy? I don't get it, Sebastian. I mean, you've always been a little mysterious to me, but this just makes no sense. How did you even know I was here?"
He takes a sip of his drink and glances out toward the stars, which are somewhat blotted out by the light pollution of the city and turns back to me, his eyes glistening in the night.
"See Brett, the thing is, you told me I could never give you your greatest fantasy."
"What's that?"
"Oh come on Brett, don't act like you don't know what's going on here. You said you wanted to have a threesome with two guys. Even if you don’t love me, that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. And I want to give you everything you want.”
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