Tess
Fortunately, I was able to get an appointment with Scott for eleven-fifteen on Monday.
“He’d like to know if this is business or...?” Sadie, the busty redhead, had asked when I’d called.
“Business,” I’d said a little too quickly. “Definitely, definitely business.” I wasn’t sure who needed to know that more—me or Scott? Both of us had proven our willpower wasn’t exactly the best.
Sadie had confirmed the meeting and even sent an email invitation, making it all official.
With that set up, my mind was free to ruminate on other things.
Specifically, what had happened in Scott’s office.
How good it had felt. How wrong it had been.
How the wrong of it had contributed to the feeling good.
By the time I’d fallen asleep, I’d replayed the scene a hundred times.
Thank God for the portable purse vibrator that Tey had gotten me for my last birthday because my hands weren’t doing it.
Though, knowing Kendra and her spending habits, she probably had several still in their boxes hidden somewhere if I decided I wanted to explore.
The next morning, I woke up to a text from Brett.
I’m going to this today. Want to join me?
The link that followed took me to an informational seminar at the Jefferson Market Library hosted by the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation.
I closed my eyes without responding, phone still in my hand and a smile on my face.
It might have been good business for him to seek out more information on his own, but I had a feeling his interests were more about spending time with me.
Which was sweet. He was definitely a man who would be on my radar if we weren’t working together.
And if my radar wasn’t completely monopolized with Scott.
I groaned remembering. Maybe it was more of a moan. A groan-moan, one that I repeated when I stretched and felt the reminder of yesterday’s activities between my legs.
As bad of an idea as it was, staying in bed and thinking about it all day long sounded like a good agenda. I already knew plenty about the DRF. I didn’t need a seminar. Besides, I didn’t want to send the wrong message to Brett by accepting the invitation.
I forced myself to sit up and type out a reply. Halfway through the message, I had second thoughts. What if Brett talked to the presenters? What if he mentioned me? What if he mentioned the possible sponsorship?
While it was most likely that whoever was sent to speak wouldn’t know anything about Conscience Connect or the contract, there was still a chance that they did. A chance that they knew the contract was with Kendra. A chance they knew that Tess Turani was merely her assistant.
I flicked back to the link to check the time of the seminar before shooting a reply to Brett.
Meet you there.
Then I jumped out of bed and hopped in the shower. I had a little over an hour to get ready and make it to the Flatiron District. If I was going to be on time, I had to move at warp speed.
“I don’t think I learned a single thing today that you hadn’t already gone over yesterday,” Brett said as we walked out of the library three hours later.
“That’s not true,” I laughed. He was being polite. The seminar had been quite thorough, including talks from two patients who suffered from different forms of dysautonomia.
Turned out I needn’t have worried about the presenters. Not only were they volunteers who probably had no clue about the foundation seeking sponsorship, Brett also had no interest in speaking to them.
Of course, he may have if I wasn’t with him. Or he might not have gone to the seminar at all, and even if he felt like he hadn’t walked away with any new information, Brett seemed to be more devoted to the cause now. Either way, it wasn’t a wasted trip on my part.
“Okay, I did learn one thing.” He stopped walking and turned to me. “I learned that you are very expressive when you’re listening to someone speak about something you care about.”
My face went warm. I’d been told that before, told that I’d often animate along with the speaker. It was completely unconscious on my part, and I struggled not to be embarrassed by it.
“Was I completely distracting?”
He gave me a smile that told me the distraction had been welcome. “I’m sure no one noticed but me. And possibly that grumpy man sitting behind us.”
“He was grumpy, wasn’t he? I could feel his frown even when I wasn’t looking at him.”
We laughed about it and about whatever Brett said in reply, which I missed because a sudden unbidden memory of Scott flashed in my head, stealing my attention, so I just chuckled when Brett did as if I’d heard the joke.
How dumb was I to be fantasizing about the hot player who probably hadn’t thought twice about me since I’d left his office when a perfectly nice, handsome, sweet man was standing right in front of me? A man who was clearly interested.
When our laughter faded away, his gaze remained. “I don’t know about you, but listening to people talk about medical conditions seems to have worked up an appetite.”
A decent woman would have kindly declined. He was too good of a person to lead on.
But I was still thinking inappropriate thoughts about a man that I had no business thinking about, and a quick bite with Brett might be just the opportunity to discover more about his cousin.
I scanned our surroundings and spotted a street vendor. “I wouldn’t mind grabbing a hot dog. Nice enough day; we can sit out here and eat it on the library grounds.”
His expression was mixed, as though he was glad for more time with me but disappointed that I hadn’t suggested something sit-down. Whether he took it as a sign that I wasn’t into him or that I was committed to maintaining a professional relationship for the time being, I didn’t know.
Either way, he seemed to realize he should take what he got. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Half an hour later, we’d each polished off a full-length chili dog and shared a chocolate chip cookie.
Brett was still working on a bag of chips while I nursed a bottled iced tea, and though we’d chatted about everything from SyFi’s The Expanse to the best kinds of dogs to have as pets, I hadn’t yet found a way to bring up what I really wanted to know.
Then, he did it for me. “Silvia said you got Scott on board.”
My stomach tightened. This was not quite the way I’d hoped he’d come up. I was doing my best not to think about the predicament I’d gotten myself in when I’d chosen to bang the VP instead of presenting him with the team’s decision.
Still, I couldn’t hide from the facts.
I took another swig of my drink while I considered my response. I didn’t want to lie to Brett. But my whole relationship with SIC was a lie, so it was kind of too late for that now.
“There’s still a little bit I need to iron out with him.” Downplayed, but honest. “I have a meeting with him on Monday before our lunch.”
Now I just had to hope that Brett wouldn’t bring it up to Scott before I had the chance.
“That’s great. On the one hand, I’m surprised that you were able to sell him so quickly. On the other, it’s hard not to buy when you’re the one selling.”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see my eye roll. That was a player line if I’d ever heard one. Maybe I didn’t give Brett enough credit.
Once that thought had passed, I worried about what he’d said for a different reason. “I hope you aren’t suggesting that he’d only sign on because...well.” I wasn’t sure how to frame it.
“Because you’re a beautiful woman? I have no doubt that Scott is influenced by pretty ladies, but I’m also positive that he would never sign onto something that he didn’t believe in.
I didn’t mean to imply anything except that you know what you’re doing.
And Scott needs to get this sponsorship rolling.
He’s getting pressure from the big guy. As you probably already know, the company is involved right now in some legal battles about one of the pipelines, and Henry is hoping that launching the support of a foundation will divert public attention. ”
It was the way with a lot of the companies that Kendra matched with charitable organizations. Sometimes when she got wind of bad PR, that was exactly when she’d swoop in and introduce the idea of sponsorship.
Not for the first time, I wondered why it was that she hadn’t hit up SIC herself.
But I was more curious about other things. “Henry. That’s Scott’s dad?”
“Right. He’s the executive chairman. Co-chairman, technically. With his brother.” Brett paused to study me. “Your expression says you still haven’t googled who’s who at SIC.”
“That’s not true. I did. I just didn’t google who’s who in the Sebastian family.
” The only reason I’d been able to resist was because I knew a thorough search would have delivered images of all the women Scott had ever been photographed with.
I was already struggling with confidence.
I didn’t need to obsess about supermodels and elite royalty and whomever else he undoubtedly had dated/hung out with/banged.
“Well, then let me give you a lesson.” Brett gathered our trash and cleared a space on the ground between us.
Then, using a plastic fork, he drew a mark in the dirt.
“Irving Sebastian founded Sebastian Industrial Corp when he was a wee lad. He’s ninety-five now, so it was a long time ago.
Built the whole empire from scratch. Made lots and lots of money, obviously.
Kept the stock private, and his wife is dead, so it’s mostly divided among his children. ”
Brett drew five lines below the first. “Henry is the oldest. Then Reynard, Samuel, August, and Arthur. Henry and Reynard run SIC together. Arthur is on the board. Samuel and August moved over to Sebastian News Corp when the company split in the nineties.”
“All his children were boys?”