**
The "meeting" between Alejandro and I went surprisingly well.
I say "surprisingly" because I didn't expect to enjoy myself as much as I did. Alejandro and I not only talked about business, but we talked about our lives; he actually wanted to get to know about me—what my favorite TV shows were, what 'The Notebook' was about, why Forever 21 is called Forever 21. It was just nice to take a break from the drama that dealing with Sebastian has brought me.
But the drama starts the moment I wake up the next day.
Today I, as Sebastian's publicist, have to meet with the social media specialists team to finally get Sebastian's twitter and Instagram up and running. After the exit I made yesterday with him, seeing him today may be a little awkward. But I don't mind—this is business, and when there's a check involved, I can put my personal feelings aside.
I decide to go for the long-sleeved black dress I bought two days before. It's very form fitting, accentuating my breasts and my hips, but still manages to make me look professional. And after doing my makeup and brushing my hair (brushing my hair without putting it up is still hard to get used to) I head out of the door for the meeting. Once I'm in my car, I get a text from Alejandro. With the car running, I'm frozen in my seat.
ALEJANDRO:
My assistant will be reaching out to you again about setting up a meeting with my Uncle. We didn't have much time yesterday to talk business.
I smile, but stop myself immediately. I don't know if the last sentence was sarcasm, but I don't treat it as such.
On my way to the meeting, I stop for coffee and an English muffin at a café close to the office building. I'm almost late, and I hate how I don't care as much as I should; I'm usually more punctual. But with breakfast being the most important meal of the day, I'm sure they will all understand. And apparently, when I make it to the office, they were fine with my tardiness.
Well, everyone except Sebastian.
The moment I walk in, the entire social media team stares at me. The muffin bag in my hand and the tall coffee cup in my other hand doesn't help the situation at all.
Mr. McGregor—the supervisor—speaks first.
"Ms. King," he says. His eyes are everywhere except for on my own eyes. "We thought something tragic had happened."
Apologize. That's the first thing I think of doing. But the thought of saying sorry doesn't sit well with me.
"The coffee shop was more crowded than I had initially anticipated," I answer, and without another word, I take a seat right between Sarah and Lucas, with Sebastian on the other side of Sarah. Setting my laptop bag down on the large table, I'm ready to get started. I feel Sebastian staring at me, and when I decide to look at him, he looks away; there's a tick in that sharp jaw of his.
It takes everyone a minute to adjust.
"R-right," Mr. McGregor gets up and stands in front of the projected screen, but no matter how many times he tries to talk, he fumbles on his words; he can't keep his eyes off of me, and it's odd for me to realize this. He isn't my type, of course, but it's nice to be getting the attention.
But Sebastian quickly becomes irritated.
"You were saying?" Sebastian suddenly blurts out in the midst of Mr. McGregor's mumbling mess. A few from the team laugh at him; I fight the urge to shoot Sebastian the nastiest look I can make.
"Sorry," Mr. McGregor apologizes, and once he gathers himself (making sure to pretend I'm not in the room), we start the meeting, where Mr. McGregor guides us through the aspects of Sebastian's twitter and Instagram (which I'm in charge of creating and monitoring). I'm taking notes throughout the entire presentation as is Sarah. And towards the segment about 'captioning,' I receive a text from Alejandro:
"How does Monday at 6:00 pm sound?" it says. He's talking about me meeting up with him and his uncle, and even though Monday sounds fine, I remember that we have Sebastian's GQ photo shoot that afternoon. I'll just have to be out of there before 5:30.
I sneak my phone underneath the table to reply. "Hey, Alejandro. I think Monday after six will fit right into my schedule. Your place or mine?"
It isn't until I hit 'send' that I realize how stupid that sounded—it's a freaking business meeting, of course it wouldn't be at anybody's house!
Alejandro's reply is taking forever. I'm starting to get heartburn, how anxious I am. I can't even focus on the damn presentation. God, why am I this anxious?
"It's important that we also monitor who Sebastian is following. Interactors always look at who influencers are following, so anyone questionable would raise questions..."
I hear a vibration from the table, but my hopes only dwindle when I realize it's someone else's phone vibrating. This is ridiculous; he shouldn't be taking this long. Caught in my impatience, I pick up my phone and check my messages, but my heart drops when I see the message didn't send. Well, it did send, but not to Alejandro.
Of course, the message would send to Sebastian on accident.
It says that he's 'read' it already. Quickly, I look up at Sebastian to see him frowning intensely at his screen for a moment until he looks up at me with furrowed brows. I feel my face growing hot with embarrassment; he can't possibly think that 'text' was an invitation for sex.
"I'm assuming this wasn't for me?" Sebastian whispers to me, leaning over Lucas.
"Of course, it wasn't," I whisper back.
"If you're sending me these messages 'accidentally' to make me upset—"
"Oh, please!" I snap quietly. "I told you yesterday that the world doesn't revolve around you; I'm over you, Sebastian. Really, I am."
"For the record," Lucas buts in, laughing slightly. "I'm really uncomfortable right now."
"It seems the meeting went well," Sebastian continues, unenthusiastic smile on that handsome, patronizing face of his.
"That text wasn't an invitation for sex," I clarify.
"Alright."
"It wasn't!"
"I said 'alright,'"
Why do I still need to prove my case to this man? If anything, I shouldn't have responded to him about the accidentally-sent text in the first place. But the smug look he gives me still manages to make me mad.
"Why can't I have business relations with anyone but you?" I ask him, maintaining the whisper I started.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're so possessive. The minute I told you that I was taking on Alejandro as a client, you got upset because he's 'dangerous.' But what's the real reason?"
"There is no real reason, Leslie. I was upset, but now I'm over it. If you want to work with him, be my guest. Hell, if you want to ride his dick into the sunset, be my fucking guest!"
"Lord Jesus, have mercy," Lucas cries at Sebastian's language. And that's when I lose it.
"You'd rather I have sex with you instead?!" I ask him. "You'd rather I be with you instead?"
"Yes!" he replies angrily. "That's exactly—"
Sebastian catches himself, but much too late. And that is when the entire room is painfully quiet.
**
Any reply I expected from Sebastian was far from that one.
In honesty, I didn't know how to react. Shit, I still don't know how to react now, staring at him like a deer in headlights. He regrets even saying the word the minute it leaves his mouth; his face fell when he realized what he just said.
And when he saw that the entire room was watching us.
"I didn't mean that," he said to me—everyone—lowly. "That's not what I...I didn't mean it that way I just..."
Frustrated, Sebastian opts for getting out of his chair—refusing to look at me—and leaving the room. The awkwardness is overwhelming, but I can't leave; my limbs won't let me.
Sarah is the next one to leave to go check on him. Still, no one says a word. And I don't know what to do or say—should I go talk to him? No, that would make things worse. Should I continue on with the meeting? How could I possibly continue on with the meeting after this? Knowing that nothing can immediately repair the damage, I sink deeper into my chair and try to suppress the knot in my throat.
"So," Lucas says to everyone, gathering my files. "About those emoji's."
**