Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Jack
I stretch slowly as I come awake, feeling absolutely amazing.
I’ve always slept particularly well at the Vale, and this time is no exception.
Lying in bed as the early morning light filters around the curtains, I replay the events of last night.
With a bit of distance from my idiotic assumption, I can see the humor in it and why Sarah kept her mouth shut instead of correcting my mistake.
Why did I just assume that Sebastian Walker was an older man?
I know better—that was a rookie mistake.
No harm done, anyway.
Seb might have thought I was an idiot at first, but I’m pretty sure I managed to repair my image by the end of the evening.
Dinner was indescribably good, foodwise, but the conversation held its own too.
Seb’s an interesting man, no-nonsense, obviously capable—given how he runs the property, the agistment, riding school, and my personal life—but he also has a dry sense of humor, and there’s no denying his attractiveness.
It's so weird we’ve never met before. Thinking back on it, Uncle Warwick mentioned his young protegee a couple of times, but back then I was either a self-absorbed teenager, a self-absorbed and often inebriated uni student, or just getting my feet wet at Tarrant Industries and struggling to stay afloat. My dad’s never believed in special favors for family—I started in an entry-level job and earned every promotion. It was only when I transferred to the foundation that I jumped several rungs on the ladder.
What a shame Seb and I never met while Uncle Warwick was alive. It would have made him so happy to see how well we get on.
At least now I have a better idea of what to get Seb for his birthday. Maybe some kind of organization app—his enthusiasm when he was talking about management, of all things, was both endearing and disturbing. The only thing that had lit him up more was?—
No. You cannot buy him a horse.
It’s a ridiculous idea.
Isn’t it?
Yes. Giving an employee such an expensive gift is absurd.
You gave Sarah diamonds. And she doesn’t buy your underwear.
Groaning, I sit up and bury my face in my hands. The problem is, I’m not sure how much of this sudden, intense urge to buy Seb a horse is because I’m incredibly attracted to him. Yes, Seb’s a long-term family employee. Yes, he’s worth every cent—and more—of the salary he’s paid. Yes, he runs the estate, the stables, and every part of my life outside the office, and he does it all seemingly without any problems. By my usual standard, he’s earned an expensive birthday gift. And since he’s horse mad, a horse isn’t that odd a choice, especially with the stables right here where Seb lives.
But… is there some tiny part of me that’s thinking this would be a great incentive to get Seb into bed? Because that’s not okay. And even if my intentions are completely pure, what if I do decide at some point to make a move on Seb—will he think the horse was some kind of sexual bribe? Because that’s not okay, either. Which means that either I have to permanently say goodbye to any idea of ever hooking up with Seb, or I have to give up the horse idea.
But he’d really love a horse , a tiny voice whispers, and I sigh and reach for my phone.
Sarah answers on the fourth ring.
“Is everything okay?” She sounds sleepy. I glance at the clock and wince.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see the time. Go back to sleep. It’s not urgent.” I’m the worst person ever.
She sighs and yawns and says, “I’m awake now. It’s not that early; I would have been up soon anyway. What’s up? It’s not a work problem, because I told the switchboard to call me instead of you.” We only have to work on weekends when there’s some kind of disaster the foundation’s relief team is needed for, or if we’re fundraising.
I hesitate, then take the plunge. “I had an idea about what to buy Sebastian. Oh, thanks, by the way.” I don’t need to explain what I mean. Sarah’s already laughing.
“Oh my God, please tell me you said something dumb, or at least that your jaw dropped.”
“He introduced himself as Seb Walker, and I asked him where Sebastian was,” I tell her dryly, and her laughter gets louder. “So I think we can tick the ‘said something dumb’ box.”
“I’m sorry, but I wish I’d been there,” she confesses. “When you asked me if he’d been thinking of retirement…”
“Yeah, yeah.” I can’t hold back my grin, and I’m glad she can’t see it.
“Anyway.” She takes a deep breath and sobers. “You said you had an idea for his present? Is it something you need my help with?”
“Not really,” I hedge. “To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s the right choice. It might be overkill.”
Silence.
Sigh.
“You want to get him a horse, don’t you?”
I drop my phone. By the time I manage to fumble it back to my ear, Sarah’s saying my name over and over. “I’m here,” I say. “How the hell did you know that?”
I can almost hear her shrug. “I know you, and I’ve gotten to know Seb pretty well. He’s mostly a simple person—not like you with your addiction to fancy shirts.” I make a noise of protest, but she’s still talking. “The only thing he really wants is his own stables, which even you would probably balk at. A horse, though… that’s kind of achievable.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?”
Sarah pauses. “I get the feeling we’re talking about different things,” she says cautiously. “I mean, you’re not exactly known for being stingy with gifts, Jack, and Seb’s not a junior member of staff. He runs the riding school and agistment, looks after the property, handles all your personal financial matters that are too insignificant for the accountant. He fits within the boundaries of your generous gift recipient guidelines.”
“Right.” She’s right. That’s all true.
“Oooohhhhhh,” she says, and I close my eyes. As wonderful as it is to have a close relationship with my assistant, it also means she knows me too well. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I should have known—he’s just your type and everything.”
“I don’t have a type,” I snap, because I try really hard not to be attracted to people purely on a physical basis. That’s shallow. People are more than their looks.
“Of course you do,” she dismisses. “Hardworking, loyal, good sense of humor, able to relate to others… that’s a description of every single boyfriend you’ve had in the past decade.”
Oh. Well, yeah. In that case, I have a type.
“It doesn’t hurt that he’s nice to look at too,” she teases, and heat flushes through me. I’m usually pretty good at ignoring morning wood until it goes away; picturing Seb seems to give my body a free pass to express its approval.
“You’re missing the point,” I insist, exerting firm control over my base instincts and ignoring everything else. “He works for me. And… I don’t want anyone to think… Or for him to think…”
“Yeah,” Sarah says, her tone softening. “The thing is, I don’t think even you were planning to spend twenty grand or something, right? Get him a decent horse but keep it modest. And I mean, the only person who has to know you bought it for him is him, yeah?”
I think it over. That makes sense.
“He’s been riding here since he was a kid,” I muse. “There’s probably a horse in the stables he already prefers.”
“There you go. That would make it easier. Everyone would just think he’d finally pulled together the cash for his favorite.” She hesitates, then asks softly, “Are you going to make a move?”
I flop back against my pillows. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ll see how the rest of the weekend goes, I guess. I mean, I want to, and if he didn’t work for me, I would already have asked him out, but I don’t want to make things weird. So I guess I’ll get to know him better and make a decision later. Friends first. Fuck, I’m just babbling now.”
“You are,” she agrees. “Get off the phone and pull yourself together.”
Grumbling, I say goodbye and get out of bed.