2. Sebastian
TWO
Sebastian
T he first text came through just as I put my water glass down.
Tristan: You didn’t show up.
Five minutes later, the second one hit.
Tristan: Unbelievable !
A second later, another one, this time from my daughter.
Ada: Are you serious?
I sent back a message to both of them: I’m sorry, guys.
I’ll make it up to your mother.
It had become my standard excuse whenever I missed something family-related.
I usually made it up to them—but lately, and by lately, I meant the past three years since I took over Boone Metals—I barely had time for anything that wasn’t work-related.
Even meals were more about business than family, eaten with customers, colleagues, and partners.
I couldn’t remember the last time Lia and I had dinner together—just the two of us, no phones, no interruptions.
We ate together every Sunday night because we went to dinner at my parents’ place; it was tradition, and not making dinner ended up with too many uncomfortable conversations that I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with, so it was easier to just have a meal with my family.
I had thought that since my father had mellowed after his stroke, this dinner would become less stuffy—but that hadn’t worked out that way.
My sister’s husband, Bryce, worked at Boone Metals and was pissed because Dad had asked me to take over the company and not him.
But I was the son, and this was still the South, and things were done a certain way.
In addition, Bryce was a fuck up and part of the problem as far as I was concerned as to why the company had been teetering on the edge of bankruptcy when I took over, and we’d just reached a place of stability when this past quarter went tits up.
It had taken work.
An enormous amount of it.
In the past two years, I’d been able to share the work and the burden with my Chief Operating Officer, Jane Gipson, whom I’d been lucky to hire.
We’d become a formidable team.
My phone beeped again.
Ada: Whatever, Dad.
In case you care, here is the video of her speech.
I closed my eyes, sucked in a breath, and let it out in frustration.
The finance meeting I’d attended instead of Lia’s graduation ceremony had been a disaster—another quarter in the red, another round of cost-cutting that barely put a dent in the problem.
Boone Metals was a sinking ship, and I was bailing water with my bare hands.
Across from me, Jane picked up her glass of iced tea, studying me with sharp blue eyes.
“You look like hell.”
I ignored that and tapped out a response to my kids.
Me: Thanks, baby girl.
I’ll fix this.
I promise.
What did that even mean?
What was I going to fix, and with whom?
The company?
The kids?
Lia?
After the interminable meeting, Jane suggested we move our lunch from my office to The Olde Pink House.
I didn’t mind.
It was a break from the monotony, and besides, we had to head to the factory later—a solid forty-five-minute drive from Savannah, assuming traffic wasn’t a nightmare.
We had a meeting with the head of supply chain to sort out yet another issue with raw material shipments.
The problems were never-ending.
I ran a hand over my face.
“Lia’s graduation was today. I didn’t go.”
Jane gave a sharp nod of approval.
“We had the quarterly meeting.”
Yeah, we did, and…
I should’ve at least sent Lia a message or something.
Now, it felt like it was too late and what would I say?
Hey, couldn’t make it because of a meeting, and now I’m having lunch with a colleague .
I wearily looked around the restaurant, which had stood since the eighteenth century, its pale pink walls sheltering locals and tourists alike.
Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over polished wood floors, and waiters in crisp white shirts weaved through the dining room with plates of shrimp and grits, fried flounder, and she-crab soup.
It was Savannah charm at its finest, and I’d barely touched my meal even though when we got here, I was starving.
“I know! The kids are pissed with me.” I sighed.
Jane arched a brow.
“Has Lia said anything?”
I shook my head.
Lia would never.
My wife was the exact opposite of Jane—the woman everyone half-joked was my “work wife.” Where Jane was blonde, polished, and built like she belonged on the cover of a business magazine—power suit tailored to perfection, legs always crossed just so, her manicured fingers perpetually curled around a glass of something expensive—Lia was petite, soft-spoken, the quintessential girl next door.
Jane thrived in boardrooms and high-pressure negotiations.
Lia, on the other hand, had always found her rhythm at home, which was why I didn’t know what to do with her sudden, out-of-nowhere decision to get an MBA.
But I thought, fine , let her go back to school; then, at least, she’d be out of my hair.
I felt guilty as soon as I thought that.
Lia was never a bother.
She was the most patient wife a man could have.
No, her studying and being busy made me feel less guilty for spending all my time at work.
If she was in classes and working on projects and exams, I was wholly entitled to pull in the long hours since I was the breadwinner.
That had been how we’d divided our marriage—she took care of the house and the kids, and I took care of everything else.
It had been working just fine until I took over Boone Metals.
“No, Lia hasn’t said a thing.” I huffed out a short breath.
“But I should have been there.”
She waved a dismissive hand.
“Sebastian, come on. It’s not like it was a real degree. An MBA? From Savannah State?” She shook her head, amused.
“Your wife can’t expect you to drop everything for something like that. You’re running a company. You’re dealing with several crises.”
A flicker of irritation ran through me at how dismissive she sounded about Lia.
But the truth was, I’d been saying the same thing for years—that the business had to come first, that Lia had to get with that.
And she had.
She did .
Lia had sent me the invite for the graduation ceremony well in advance and even asked my PA to put it on my calendar.
I had chosen not to move the quarterly finance meeting even though Kayla, my PA, had asked if she should.
Why hadn’t I?
I rubbed the back of my neck.
I didn’t like the way Jane made Lia sound irrelevant.
Unimportant .
But could I blame her?
Because, like Jane, I didn’t take Lia’s penchant for getting a graduate degree now as anything but a vanity project, something to beat the boredom now that the kids had left, which was fine, but why did I have to get dragged into it?
I tapped my fingers on the table.
“I’ll make it up to her.”
Jane sighed and put her hand on mine.
“Sebastian,” she murmured, “you have bigger things to worry about than your wife’s bruised feelings. She’s married to the CEO of a company, and that comes with responsibilities. She knows that, doesn’t she?”
I nodded because Lia did, but the uneasy feeling in my gut didn’t go away.
And that feeling only exploded when, after I dropped my credit card on the bill and heard my baby girl’s voice.
“Dad?”
“Ada, darlin’.” I immediately rose, my mood lightening.
My children made me happy.
Since they’d moved out of our home, I didn’t see them much, so when I did, it was always a pleasure.
I hugged her, my hands gripping her tightly like I could smooth over whatever had cracked between us with sheer force because something had.
I’d been feeling it for months.
“How wonderful to see you.”
“Hello, Ada.” Jane smiled.
“Hi,” Ada said it almost perfunctorily, sending Jane a flat, unimpressed stare.
She looked like a mini-Lia—petite, graceful, that same Audrey Hepburn elegance.
But her eyes, sharp and blue, were mine.
And right now, they were locked on me with anger and disappointment.
Jane gave a dramatic tilt of her head as she picked up her phone.
“Sebastian, we have another meeting at the factory,” she warned, giving me an out from talking to Ada, which she knew would mean grief for me.
But this was my daughter, and I didn’t need anyone to run interference for me.
“Dad…ah…can I talk to you for a minute?” Ada asked, though she was already half-pulling me away from the table.
Her fingers curled around mine with purpose, and I followed her without resistance, sensing whatever was coming wasn’t going to be easy.
She led me into a quiet hallway near one of the side exits, the soft hum of the wake fading behind us.
The moment we were alone, she stopped and turned to face me—her jaw set, eyes sharp.
This wasn’t my daughter asking for advice.
This was Ada, the woman her mother raised—brilliant, steady, and about to tell me exactly what was on her mind.
“You need to leave and not use the front door.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You’re going to walk out that door”—she pointed to the exit we were standing by—“so, Mama, who is sitting close to the front door, won’t see you.” Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
“We’re celebrating and seeing you here with… no , I won’t let you ruin this for her.”
“Your mother is here?” I asked, baffled.
“Yes, Dad, we came to celebrate her graduation.” Her voice was laced with disgust.
“She was at the top of her class and gave an amazing speech…all of which you missed.”
I couldn’t understand why she was angry.
Sure, I missed something, but if Lia was okay with it, I didn’t think it was Ada’s business.
I exhaled.
“Ada, I told Lia I might not be able to make it. She knew.”
She took a step closer.
“You missed a big, important event, Dad. And where were you?” She threw a glance toward the dining room.
“Having lunch with her .”
I clenched my jaw.
“Jane is a colleague.”
“I don’t care who she is,” Ada shot back.
“Do you know how Mom felt, standing on stage, looking for you? Waiting for you to come through those doors? And when she finally realized you weren’t going to—” She broke off, her throat working as she swallowed.
“She acted like it didn’t matter. But it did.”
I sighed and raked a hand through my hair.
“I have a crisis at work. I have an important meeting after lunch too…it’s just the way it is right now, Ada, once things settle?—”
“Dad, you’ve been saying that for three years, and you’ve lost all credibility with all of us —and by all of us, I mean your wife, your son, and your daughter. Though Jane probably still trusts your word.”
“Ada, I’m still your father, so you need to watch how you speak to me.” This wasn’t my sweet Baby Girl.
No matter what issues Lia and I may have had, we never let that bleed onto our kids.
“Right, glad you remember that even though you’ve forgotten Mama is your wife.”
I growled.
“Watch it, young lady.”
She just shook her head.
“Just take the other exit, okay? That’s all you have to do.” She spoke as if that was all she was expecting from me.
“Why don’t we go have a glass of champagne with your mother?” I looked at my watch.
I could spend fifteen minutes with Lia and see if Kayla would move my meeting by that much time at the factory.
Ada let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head.
“I don’t know, Dad. I think it might upset Mama to celebrate her big day with you and your mistress .”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.
“Are you out of your—” I started, but she shook her head.
“I’m not going to argue with you while Mama is waiting for me.” She gave a firm shake of her head.
“But I’m also not going to let Mama see you with her, so she’s smacked in the face with what was more important to you than your wife. So, I’ll be grateful to you if you walk out that door.” She pointed to the back exit again.
“Thank you in advance for your consideration.”
“Ada—”
She turned on her heel.
“Enjoy your work lunch,” she threw back over her shoulder.
I stood frozen, watching my daughter disappear into the dining room, her words ricocheting inside me like a bullet.
For the first time in my life, Ada had spoken to me like I was an asshole, and it hurt like a mother fucker.
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