The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Sixty: Unorthodox Introductions

"Who's Axel, Leslie?" I suddenly ask. The look on her face makes me regret randomly asking the question, but I remember her bringing him up during her tangent.

Her breathing becomes shaky. I'm so stupid; obviously that name is a trigger for her. But knowing the guy died from a heroin overdose? How am I supposed to let shit like that go?

"He was...someone I met when I was seventeen, after moving in with my dad. I—"

"Don't say anything more. You don't have to tell me."

She looks up again, confused at my interruption. I know more than a thing or two about past crap that you intend to leave in the past. Whoever this Axel guy is—was, should stay buried.

"I hadn't thought about him until tonight," Leslie explains.

"Why? Because of your mom?"

She's hesitant on answering. "No. Someone sent me something relating to Axel."

"Who?"

"I don't know. It was an unknown number."

I can feel her heartbeat grow faster against me.

"Did they say anything else?" I ask her.

"They called, telling me they'd see me at the party, then hung up. I still have no clue who it was."

I do.

Have you ever grown so angry all of the sudden that everything around you becomes blurred? Or your skin starts to grow cold? That's exactly how I feel. And immediately after Leslie's explanation, everything that happened tonight makes perfect sense. This was my father—her ex-boyfriend and her former assistant, her mother, the marriage proposal, even my Dad forcing me to take Felicity as a date. And I know that Leslie has figured this out, too, but the stress of tonight has made her snap and detach.

I know this was my father, but I need proof and the certainty that it was.

"Everything is such a mess," Leslie whispers. "I don't know what to do."

"You don't do anything for now," I answer. "You just sleep. That's what you need more than anything."

She yawns quietly before thanking me again. And after a few silent minutes of staring out of the window and tucking stray hairs back into her bun, her body relaxes against mine; she's fast asleep.

Sleep is the last thing I can achieve right now. I look down at her, her eyes closed, her face soft and innocent, and wonder why my father would want to target Leslie like this? Tampering with her psyche in such a fucked up way? It isn't surprising, really—my father is a sociopath. But I still need to understand why? Because she quit? Because of what Loretta told her? Those seem like legitimate reasons. Yet something inside of me keeps telling me that there's something more.

As of now, I've been thinking about this shit for a good thirty minutes. Leslie dog comes into the room, jumps up on the bed and curls up by my feet. I can guarantee Leslie doesn't let him do this on a regular basis; smart dog.

I stare down at her sleeping again before pulling out my phone to call Claude. The line rings for a bit; I pray Leslie doesn't wake up.

"Hello?" Claude answers.

"Hey, Claude. It's Sebastian. You still at the manor?"

"Yeah, but I leave tomorrow. I've got to head back to Jersey to handle some business. Why?"

I think it over intensely. Asking Claude to involve himself might get me into some shit that I never should have. But I have to know.

"I...I need you to do me a favor," I ask him finally.