“I’m serious,” I warned. “You better talk to him. This has to stay a secret.”
“It’s not as if we have to keep it long.” He buttoned his shirt. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
I could’ve stayed in bed with him all day, even if it meant jeopardizing my job. That was a first for me. If I wanted his success as much as my own, I had to be honest with him about what was coming. But Sebastian had been wary of me just for showing up, and being offered his job would only validate his concerns. Would he blame me? I didn’t think I’d ever felt this way this quickly about anyone. There was no question he’d be angry, but would he see this as a betrayal and end things before they’d even begun?
He patted Bruno’s hip and stood to do up his pants. “I’m going to try to get in early so you and I can take off right at five. See you there?”
The prospect of Sebastian finding out from someone else at work, even Vance, was enough to put things in perspective. Since I hadn’t had a chance to officially turn down the position yet, I couldn’t risk Sebastian thinking I was going to accept it. He had to hear the truth from me. Now that he and I had potential to be more, the meeting no longer felt confidential, just secretive. “Sebastian,” I started.
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Proceed at your own risk. If I don’t leave in the next few seconds, I can’t promise I won’t climb back into bed with you.”
I shifted against the headboard, pulling the sheet more tightly under my arms. “Actually, there’s, ah, something you should know.”
“Yeah?” he asked, tucking his chin to fix the back of his collar.
Sebastian and I were past the bullshit—no use in drawing this out. “When Vance called me into his office the other day, it wasn’t just to touch base. He wanted to talk to me about a permanent position.”
He lowered his hands and studied my face. “Which position?”
My palms were suddenly sweating. “Yours.”
He went still as a statue, not even blinking. “Mine?”
“I didn’t know if I should tell you, but—”
“Of course.” He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. “On some level, I knew this could happen. But after all my years there, I assumed he’d have the courtesy to warn me first.”
By the set of his jaw, he was angry or getting there. Though I’d expected it, it made my stomach churn. He pinched the bridge of his nose much the same way he had in the café that first morning when he’d stepped away to take Justin’s call.
“He swore me to secrecy so he could tell you himself,” I said. “I just . . . after last night, I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”
His glare had me shutting my mouth. I doubted he’d even heard what I’d said. Naked in more ways than one, I knew I’d never be able to channel George in this moment. I had to try to stand my ground and explain things from my side, but I could already feel a tremble working its way up me.
“Unbelievable,” he finally said.
“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but . . .”
“Jesus. I’m so tired of his shit.” He hung his towel over my reading chair and said, “I’m sorry, Georgina.”
I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly through the pounding of my heart. “You’re sorry?” I asked.
“Yeah. Vance never should’ve put you in that position.” He went to the other side of the bed and checked the screen of his phone. “I wish you’d mentioned it yesterday,” he said, “but I suppose I can’t blame you for thinking you were on a fake date most of the day. Thanks for being honest.”
I hazarded a smiled. His understanding felt almost too good to be true. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid you’d get angry and end the date.”
“I don’t think anything could’ve torn me away from you last night.” He returned my smile. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m pissed. But I’ll take it up with him.”
“Not today,” I warned. Bruno rolled onto his side and groaned sleepily, clearly put out by our conversation. “Vance said if you went on the attack, he’d fire you on the spot.”
Sebastian shook his head and slipped his phone in his back pocket, trading it for a comb. “I’m not sure I give a fuck.”
“You might feel that way now, but promise me you’ll wait until you’ve cooled off.”
“I don’t know if I can.” He stooped to the mirror above my dresser and fixed his hair. “I should go hand in my resignation just to fuck him over. Then he’d have nobody.” He scoffed. “I’d like to see him put out a decent issue without either of us.”
I relaxed back against my headboard, relieved I wouldn’t be the one to feel Sebastian’s wrath. Until his words registered—Vance would have nobody? What about me? I wasn’t taking the job, but I hadn’t said that yet. “Sebastian—”
He glanced at me in the reflection and tilted his head. “Christ, you’re pale. You really thought I’d explode, didn’t you?”
I was feeling a bit clammy. “You’ve never wanted me there. I figured you’d blame this on me.”
“Why would I?” he asked, putting the comb away. “You didn’t ask for the job, and it’s not like you’d ever take it.”
I frowned, my heart rate slowing. Putting aside the fact that I deserved the opportunity for the way I was turning Modern Man around, why shouldn’t I want to advance my career? What made Sebastian so sure I’d turn it down? “I never said whether I accepted it,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but I know you well enough now. You wouldn’t do that to me.” He turned, leaning against the dresser as he crossed his arms. “You’re one of the sweetest, most caring women I’ve ever met, Georgina. You’d never take my job, especially after last night.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Especially after last night almost sounded dirty, as if sex had somehow secured my loyalty to him above anyone else, even myself. Vance’s offer was more than an enormous bump in salary—it was vindication that I’d done a good job after all the resistance Sebastian had given me. That I was necessary. That my work mattered. Sebastian had just assumed I’d put him above all that? Of course he did. He thought I was “sweet.” “Caring.” And, I couldn’t forget—easily run over.
My face flushed. With this news, Sebastian had only considered what I was doing to him. Not what this opportunity had meant for me. He’d expected me to limit my career to help his.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” I said, irritation hardening my words. It occurred to me that while there’d been no good time to bring this up, it certainly wasn’t while I was naked. “Can you hand me a shirt from the first drawer?”
He opened it and pulled a faded black, extra-small Jem and the Holograms t-shirt from the top of the pile. “Is this yours?” he asked, holding it up.
“It’s from when I was a kid,” I snapped, gesturing impatiently for it. I made a mental note never to sleep with a guy on laundry day again.
He tossed it to me, narrowing his eyes as I struggled to pull on the too-small shirt while shielding myself with the sheet.
“Is . . . something wrong?” he asked.
“Yep.” I yanked the hem down. “Did you even stop to consider what this could mean for my career?”
“Um . . . no.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m at risk of losing my job, Georgina.”
“A job I’m far too ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ to take—do I have that right? Too ‘caring’ to put my career above yours?”
“It’s a compliment, for Christ’s sake. I’m trying to say you’re not the kind of person to fuck me over like that.”
In other words, someone like me would never put herself first. I’d heard some version of that before. “I’m too much of a doormat is what you mean.”
“Oh, god.” He ran both hands over his face. “Not even remotely what I said.”
I easily tugged the top sheet free of the mattress since it’d come untucked during last night’s activities. Bruno jerked, jumped off the bed, and ambled away, most likely to the kitchen since it was breakfast time. “You didn
’t have to say it,” I said. “I can read between the lines.”
“Let’s keep a little perspective here, shall we? You wouldn’t even be at Modern Man if it wasn’t for my fuck-up.”
“Right, so why’s it so surprising that I’d be the right person for the job?”
“Because it’s not yours. You didn’t kiss ass and bust ass just for a chance at an internship. You weren’t there from day one when the whole operation was an organizational disaster. You didn’t spend countless late nights over several years to bring it back from the brink.” His knuckles had whitened from balling his hands. “You did a good job of getting us back on track, I admit, but you don’t have what it takes to weather the long-term.”
I pulled back. After the last couple months, did he honestly think that? “I don’t have what it takes?”
“No, because you don’t know what it takes. I built our readership from the ground up.”
“And then you jeopardized it.”
His jaw ticked. “Do you think I need that pointed out to me every damn day, or do you just enjoy holding it over me?”
“I didn’t bring this up to debate who would be better at the job. I wanted to be honest with you.” I stood and wrapped the sheet around my waist. “I’m going out on a limb and putting my reputation on the line to prepare you for what’s coming.”
“Oh, then I suppose I should thank you. Thank you for diminishing the work I’ve done so you can feel good about being offered a job you’re not qualified to do.”
I winced and immediately wished I hadn’t shown how much his opinion meant to me. “Do you think I stumbled into your office by accident?” I asked. “I’ve done my homework. I studied the mistakes you made, researched what failed, and came to you with solutions—solutions that worked. Subscription rates are finally starting to rise. The female demographic is growing. College educated, high-income readers that we lost are returning. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re good at your job,” he said steadily. “But no way in hell are you the best person for mine. I am.” He paused, his expression cooling. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me you’re actually considering it?”
“That’s not the point.” I started to pick up the sheet to storm off, but apparently I had more to say. “You just assumed I wouldn’t take it and never considered what this could mean for my career.”
“Your career? What about mine?” He pushed off the dresser and gestured behind him. “This is my job, and you wouldn’t just take it. It’s not who you are.”
Who exactly did he think I was? Because it was starting to feel as if he saw me the way Neal had. Weak. Agreeable. Pushover. “A job you said was no longer fulfilling.”
He studied me, shaking his head. “Is this why you were encouraging me to reconsider going to Boston? So you wouldn’t feel guilty accepting Vance’s offer?”
I gaped at him. What a slap in the face after the way I’d been nothing but supportive while he’d finally shared his background with me. “Of course not. I was trying to help. You said you were feeling complacent.”
“Great,” he said wryly, stooping to pick up the pillow I’d thrown earlier. He tossed it on the bed. “Now you’re going to use my fucking words against me.”
“I’m just pointing out that maybe leaving Modern Man wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
“Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He grabbed my dress off the floor next. “I’m starting to regret that I opened up to you.”
“Oh yeah? Me too. Here’s a fairy tale pun for you—Hansel and Regretal.” I gathered the sheet in my arms and took off for my bathroom. How had I let myself get so wrapped up in Sebastian mere months after I’d been through this with Neal? I spun back. “I assume I don’t have to tell you to leave.”
“Georgina, come on.” He sighed, still gripping my dress. “What’d you expect me to say? Congratulations?”
“I expected you to react like the rational, supportive person I thought I was getting involved with. You can’t tell me the possibility of losing your job never crossed your mind.”
“Of course it has. Why do you think I’m not more surprised? I knew my ass was on the line.”
“Then it must’ve also occurred to you that Vance might replace you with me.” Still stung that he’d thought I might try to use our heart-to-heart the night before against him, I added, “So how do I know you didn’t plan yesterday so I’d feel loyal to you?”
He looked taken aback. Good. Now he knew how it felt to have his intentions doubted. “Are you kidding me?” he asked.
“You spent weeks hating me and then out of nowhere, you show up on my doorstep offering me a truce. What am I supposed to think?”
He clenched his hand around the fabric, then discarded my dress on the bed. “You were supposed to see how I was trying to do better, Georgina. Be better.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you figured sex was one sure way to guarantee I’d never take your job.”
“What the fuck,” he said slowly, “does that mean?”
“You knew what last night would mean to me. I’m not saying it didn’t mean the same to you, but . . .” Unexpectedly, my throat thickened. Intimacy. The problem with getting it meant it could be taken away. “How do I know there wasn’t a part of you that recognized you could use my ‘kindness’ against me?”
“That’s not goddamn fair.” He fisted his hair. “I’d never do that, and you know it.”
“I don’t know it. I thought I did once, and I was wrong. I won’t make those same mistakes again.”
His gaze darkened. “You’re going to compare me to your piece-of-shit ex after everything you told me yesterday? Don’t even go there.” He inhaled, his nostrils flaring though he seemed to try to calm himself. “I’m not trying to bend your will in my favor,” he said deliberately. “I’m just stating the facts—this is my job. My life. I wouldn’t give it up to anyone without a fight, and I certainly wouldn’t get into a relationship with that person. Would you?”
“Would I? Here’s what I would do.” I clutched the sheet at my hip with one hand, held up a finger, and counted off. “Spend nearly two months trying to save the job of a man who hates me. Invite him to my home. Introduce him to my dog. Spend my Sunday falling for him. Turn down a great opportunity and a salary I could really use. All for him, when he clearly wouldn’t even give me a second thought.”
“Nowhere in there did I hear that you actually want the job.”
“I don’t,” I cried. “I don’t want it. I’m not going to take it, but you never even gave me the chance to say that.”
He stared at me, his shoulders loosening along with his fists. We held each other’s gazes, something sizzling between us. The light of day only served to remind me how that chemistry could be as dangerous as it was sweet.
“Then we don’t have a problem,” he said.
“Oh, we have a problem,” I threw back at him. “I told you to go.”
“Look,” he said, stepping toward me. “This doesn’t need to come between us. I like you, Georgina. I haven’t said that to someone and meant it in . . . I don’t even know how long.”
I shook my head. “If that were true, you would’ve considered me the way I did you. Instead, you assumed I’d automatically back down to give you what you want.”
“If I assumed anything,” he said gently, “it was that you’d do the right thing, which doesn’t make you a doormat. It makes you a good person.”
“It makes me a sucker. What if taking the job was the right thing—just not for you? What then?” My face heated as I recalled that I’d been standing in the same spot when Neal had told me he never should’ve left me for a “stronger” woman—one who hadn’t put up with his shit for more than a couple months. “You were so sure I’d do what’s best for you, you never once stopped to consider if it’s best for me. I’m sorry, but I’m not doing this again.”
“What are you saying?” he asked.
I couldn’t sa
y it, so I showed him instead. I went into my bathroom and slammed the door on him. On us. I turned on the faucet to brush my teeth, but instead stared at myself in the mirror.
After a moment, he knocked. “Georgina.”
We’re over. Done. I tried to get myself to say the things I should’ve said to Neal a million times. “Please go.”
“No. We’re not done talking about this.”
I didn’t want him to go. I wanted him to be the man for me, but how could I ignore the warning signs after wasting years of my life already? My confidence had only just begun to recover. It would be so easy to open the door and continue getting to know Sebastian as something other than a rival. But would I look back one day and wonder how I could’ve made the same mistake twice?
If he kept pressing, I worried I’d give in, so I took a deep breath and opened the door just enough to face him. “We’re professionals, so I trust we can finish out my time there in peace.”
Hurt flashed in his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ll see you at work,” I said. I closed the bathroom door, leaned back against it, and took deep breaths to attempt to slow my pounding heart. If this was how it felt to be a bitch, I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I either had to choose myself or lose myself. When there was no more hate, only love, where was the line?
And had I just crossed it?
23
SEBASTIAN
Love was a bitch. And Justin was a bastard. He’d never beaten me to work before Georgina had come along, but evidently, today was the second time he’d managed it in a few weeks. I found him in my office, leaning back in my chair, feet on my desk and arms behind his head. “Well, well,” he said, making a point to check his watch. “Look who decided to show up. Late night?”
“It’s barely ten,” I grumbled, furtively checking Georgina’s desk. It was just as she’d left it Friday afternoon. She must’ve been running behind this morning as well.
“So, how’d it go?”
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