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

Chapter Sixty: Unorthodox Introductions

"Anything for my favorite cousin," he replies. "What do you need?"

"I need some info on a few people. And I also need you to tap in to some of my father's 'personal' shit to see if these people have been affiliated with him in anyway."

Claude whistles lowly. "Damn, Sebastian. What's got you all 007 all of the sudden?"

"You know how my dad is, Claude."

"Of course I know how your dad is, but why are you curious about it now?"

Leslie stirs a bit before stilling again. I avert my eyes away from her onto the window and sigh.

"It's about Leslie. She's gone through some shit tonight, and I have a suspicion that my father might be the reason. I need to know why."

"Well, alright. I won't have anything until, maybe tomorrow. Shit like this takes time, especially with how Garrett rolls around."

"Yeah, I know. Anything would be useful. You're the only one I can trust to do this."

"Alright. Just give me the names."

I give him as much information as I can, letting him know that all of them should have gotten an invitation to the party in the first place, so it shouldn't be hard to find them in Harrison Inc.'s system. There's the big chance that these people can come up clean, and that all of them hitting Leslie with mental blows like this is just a fucked up coincidence. But I'm too smart to shrug anything off as a coincidence before figuring it out first.

"I'll let you know tomorrow," Claude says.

"Thanks. And Claude? Make sure that...can you please make this...clean?"

He doesn't answer immediately. After a few seconds, he responds.

"Spick and span, little cousin."

And then he hangs up.

I put my phone back into my pocket and lean my head against the headboard. Right now, if it weren't for meeting Leslie a month ago, I would have been enjoying a tall glass of champagne with a tight piece of ass (who's also the spawn of Satan) on my arm, begging me to let her blow me in the bathroom before we enter the party again, oblivious to the dark bullshit my father is involved in. But now, after being exposed to the truth and forced to come to terms with the shit my father did to me and to many others, I'm here in my publicist's apartment, holding her as she sleeps in my arms and thinking of ways to weaken my dad's chokehold on the small good left in my life. Because for the longest I've believed that it was my fault that my life turned to shit. But it wasn't.

And I refuse to let my dad take the only thing left in my life I care about more than myself.

My eyes start to become heavy. Maybe I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes, then leave to let Leslie sleep. But as her arms tighten around me when I move a bit, as if she knows in her sleep that I might leave, I feel I have even more reason to stay. And plus, I've never slept with a woman without having sex with her first, so it's a new experience for me.

And I'll admit—it isn't quite bad.

**

LESLIE

By the vexatious light burning my eyes and the invasive birds chirping outside of my bedroom window, I think it's safe to assume that it's currently morning.

I slowly open my eyes, regretting the decision when the sunlight says an annoying 'hello' to my sensitive irises and pupils. It only takes me a moment to realize that I'm on top of a body—a male body, to be exact. And it takes me another moment to realize that this male happens to be Sebastian Harrison, snoring with his head sunk into a pillow.