ChapterSixteen
Rosalia
Sebastian calls my name again. He knows that his company screwed me over on my lease. What else does he know?
I’m tempted to ignore him and have Cinnamon sprint to the barn.
But the move is juvenile and pointless. I’ll have to talk to him once we’re off the horses or while I wait for Tom to arrive with the car to take me home.
At times like these, I wish I had my own vehicle.
Sighing, I tug gently on the mare’ s reins.
The clop of hooves slows as Goliath and Sebastian pull up level with Cinnamon and me.
I narrow my eyes at him and hiss, “You knew about your company going back on its word with my lease, and you don’t even care.
” I search his face for any hint of guilt or remorse, but his expression remains inscrutable.
“I...,” he begins, then looks away. “It’s complicated.”
My anger flares, hot and huge. Complicated. My fists clench around the reins, nails biting into my palms. “Try to explain,” I say in a hoarse whisper.
He runs a hand over his face, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t know about the lease issue until a few days ago. And the truth is, I don’t have control over the properties the company leases out. That’s my brother’s domain. If I get involved, it’ll be messy. Very messy.”
My stomach drops at the mention of Thorne, a cold sweat prickling along my hairline. Sebastian had basically called me a gold digger, but he isn’t far off. It doesn't matter that I was attracted to him before I made my bargain with his brother—now I’m here because of what Thorne promised me.
We ride in strained silence. The rhythm of hoofbeats melds with rustling bluegrass beneath an ambitious March sky. Our horses move in practiced tandem, close enough to share the same dappled shadows, yet worlds apart.
I study his profile, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way he carries himself like someone bearing a burden too personal to name.
During his visits to my store, he’s always alone.
I googled him after our coffee date, and it revealed a man surrounded by empty space.
In photographs from galas and charity events, he stands isolated in crowded rooms, his smile never reaching his eyes.
Since his divorce, no companion graces his side.
No friend’s shoulder brushing against his, no lover’s hand in his.
“Do you ever get lonely?” The question slips out.
He glances at me, surprise flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Out here. Away from the city.” I add, knowing that the true question is too probing.
“I’m not alone. I have my staff, my horses...”
“But no friends? Family?” So much for not prying .
His gaze slides away, focusing on some point in the distance. “I have acquaintances. Business associates. That’s enough.”
I frown, sensing a deeper story beneath his terse words. Is this who he really is, or just his way of staying safe?
Before I can probe further, the rain turns insistent, and he says, “We should return before the storm arrives.” Together, we spur our horses into a canter.
We reach the barn seconds before a crack of thunder booms from the dark sky. I’m greeted with the musty scent of hay, leather, and safety.
I dismount, my legs slightly stiff from the ride. Sebastian’s stable hand waits with an expectant nod. “Thank you, John,” I say, handing him the reins.
He leads Cinnamon toward the tack room. I stand awkwardly for a moment, watching as he efficiently removes the saddle and bridle, hanging them on their designated hooks with practiced precision.
The thunder crashes again outside, but Cinnamon barely flinches under his confident touch.
I linger, feeling out of place in Sebastian’s world, where even the care of my mount is handled by others.
I move to the nearest stall, seeking comfort in the familiar act of petting the American Quarter Horse. Sebastian follows close behind. He leans against the stall door, his shoulder nearly brushing mine.
“Rosalia, about earlier...” His voice is low and earnest. “I am sorry for assuming the worst. It’s just, in my world, people always seem to have ulterior motives.”
His words sting because they’re too close to the truth.
Given my arrangement with his brother, I have no right to stay angry about Sebastian’s assumptions.
I should put distance between us, but instead I’m drawn to the vulnerability in his voice.
Despite the lies, the deal with Thorne, the mess with my lease, this pull between us is stronger than my guilt.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, stepping closer.
The crunch of footsteps has us jumping apart like two teenagers about to be caught by adults. A guy enters the barn. “Bastian, are you in here?” he calls, his gaze sweeping the space before landing on us. His eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, I thought you were alone. ”
The man is around our age, with hair a shade lighter than Sebastian’s, and he wears the same expensive look. He carries a leather folder and has an air of confidence that suggests he is used to being in charge.
Sebastian’s shoulders stiffen and a frown tugs at his lips. “Daniel. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Clearly.” His gaze darts between us. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Sebastian doesn’t confirm or deny, and an awkward silence descends. He shakes his head. “I really need to change the code on the gate.”
Daniel grins, revealing white teeth with a slightly crooked canine. “You can’t keep me out. And you’d miss me.”
Sebastian snorts. “Rosalia, this is Daniel, an old friend from college. Daniel, this is Rosalia, my…” He hesitates, as if searching for the right word.
I offer my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Shifting the leather folder, he shakes my hand, “I’m Daniel Poncelet.”
His last name smacks me like a physical blow. “You’re the lawyer.”
His brows furrow and his gaze jumps between Sebastian and me. “I am a lawyer.”
“Who works for Blackstone. Who works for you.” I say, glaring at Sebastian. He found out about my building issue a few days ago, my ass. What else is he lying about?
“I thought you said you didn’t have control over the leasing side of things.” I point at Daniel. “But if he’s your friend and the lawyer in charge...”
Sebastian glances away momentarily. His expression turns guarded. “Like I said earlier, it’s complicated.”
Daniel clears his throat. “I should let you two talk privately. Sebastian, I’ll head inside.” He offers me an apologetic smile before ducking out of the barn.
In the tense silence that follows, I study Sebastian’s face.
It seems he isn’t a hapless, innocent bystander who knows nothing of my mess brought on by his company.
But does it matter? I’m the one who’s made the devil’s bargain with Thorne, sacrificing my integrity to save my store and literacy programs .
I need to get out of here and clear my head. “I should go,” I murmur, moving toward the door.
“Let me drive you home instead of Tom,” Sebastian offers.
“You know how to drive?” My joke is feeble, but he snorts. “Stay and visit with your friend. The Blackstone lawyer,” I can’t help but tack on.
The rain has turned into a drizzle, and I’ll get wet, but I need to get away. It’s time to leave and be alone with my thoughts. However, I don’t make it far before he catches up with me. “I’ll tell Tom to pick you up here so you don’t get wet.” He pulls out his cell and makes the call.
After hanging up, he waits with me. The silence is oppressive.
He breaks it. “Daniel is a friend from college. That’s why he’s here. Blackstone has a lot of lawyers, and they don’t all report to me.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to demand to know if Daniel does, but again, I’m not innocent, so why demand Sebastian’s truths? Instead, I ask, “He’s a close friend?”
The Bentley pulls to the barn’s imposing carriage doors and Tom starts to get out, but Sebastian holds up a hand and opens the car door for me. “I don’t have close friends.”
“Why not?”
“They are a liability.”
Wow . I’m not sure if his answer makes me feel better or worse. He might not know about the bet, but that was the answer of either a heartless or very lonely man.
Which is Sebastian Blackstone?