25. Sebastian
TWENTY-FIVE
SEBASTIAN
I walked out to my car, gearing up for my morning trip to Magnolia Café. That freshly brewed coffee was the highlight of my Monday morning.
“Morning!” Charlie said, wearing jeans, a low V-neck top, and a gorgeous smile as she approached her hooptie for her morning commute.
“Well, good morning.” My gaze rolled over her denim-clad curves. “Where are you off to?”
“The Monticello. I want to see how the new tile’s coming along.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I signaled her to wait a moment. I didn’t want her rushing off so quickly. “Hello,” I answered.
“Sebastian, it’s George at Pentagon Lights. I’ve got some bad news about your order,” my lighting guy said. Oh, great. Charlie and I were finally on better terms and now I’d have to deliver more bad news. “The manufacturer won’t be able to deliver your order in time for us to get it to you next week in New Elberry, or whatever.”
“George, you know I don’t like problems,” I said, and there was a flicker of concern in Charlie’s eyes.
“Yeah, I know, but your only option to get those bulbs in time is to pick them up from the manufacturer yourself.” A major inconvenience, to say the least. On the other hand, a day trip to DC? It was a good excuse to get back to the city for a bit.
“How soon can I get them?” I asked.
“They said they’ll be ready today.”
“Thanks, George. Send me the address and let them know I’ll be there today. I also expect a big price break for this.” I wrapped up the call and turned my attention back to Charlie, who had been patiently waiting. “That was my lighting guy. They won’t be able to deliver the marquee bulbs in time for the festival.”
Charlie frowned. “What? I can’t sell advertising space without those bulbs.”
“Hang on—we can still get them if we pick them up in DC today.”
“DC, huh? Does that mean you’re going to make something easy for once and go get them yourself?”
There was an ease between us that hadn’t been there before. We’d spent Saturday together, going over ideas for the boutique hotel, and she’d stopped by my place on Sunday for breakfast. We’d kissed some more, and I was quickly becoming addicted to the taste of her.
So when she lobbed that teasing little challenge of a question toward me, I didn’t want to disappoint her. I’d go to DC if that’s what she wanted. The way I felt, standing outside that old house that morning, I’d go to the moon if she asked me. But I wasn’t interested in going alone.
“Sure, I’ll drive up. But you’re coming with me.” I walked around to the passenger side of my Maserati and opened the door for her. She was going to love cruising down the highway with the windows down in this baby. And I was going to love watching her auburn locks go wild in the wind. “Hop in.”
She folded her arms and pursed her pink lips. The sun made her skin glow, a gust of wind flinging her hair over her shoulder. I wanted nothing more than to press my lips to hers. “You really think we’re going to bring back five hundred marquee bulbs in that coupe?”
I blinked back thoughts of Charlie’s lips and looked at my vehicle. “Good point.”
“We can take my car,” she offered, and the driver’s side door creaked when she opened it, a patch of rusty paint fluttering to the ground.
“Absolutely not.”
“You got a better idea?”
Twenty minutes later, I was trading keys with my childhood pal. “She’s all gassed up for you,” Rex said, and he patted the shiny blue Silverado like it was a good ole girl. “And don’t worry about your Maserati. I’ll take good care of her.”
“Thanks.” I knew I had to give them up, but I hesitated handing him my keys. “Now remember, this car isn’t a pickup, it’s a fine Italian piece of machinery. You’ve got to treat her like a goddess.”
“Don’t worry. I know how to handle a lady,” he said with a wink, and lowered himself into the driver’s seat, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. “You two drive safe.”
I hoisted myself up into the truck and looked over the wide dash. This beast was gigantic compared to my sports car. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Plus, the view from up here wasn’t bad. Charlie hopped in and soon we were heading up on 29 toward Arlington.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, the air became hot and thick and Charlie turned up the air. “Summer’s going to be brutal. I really need to get my car’s AC fixed. This is nice.”
“See, modern life isn’t so bad, is it?” I said, and she shot me her classic eye roll.
Charlie leaned her face in front of the vent with a satisfied smile, which was slightly reminiscent of the one I’d inspired in the theater over the weekend. I’d have done just about anything to get her to smile. She caught me staring at her, and her cheeks flushed. “Hey, eyes on the road, Anderson.”
It was easier said than done. Why did she have to look so damn cute all the time? She’d been beautiful from the start, but when she was around I couldn’t take my eyes off her. There was just something about her.
“So,” I began, “I was able to run some numbers yesterday, and I think your boutique hotel idea could definitely work.”
Charlie straightened and turned to me, and the look she gave me made lightning shoot down my spine. “Really? That’s incredible. I’ve got a really good feeling about it. It’s the best of both worlds. I’m thinking we call it ‘The Monticello—A Historic Theater Hotel.’ You are planning to keep the name Monticello, aren’t you? It’s practically legendary.”
“Of course.” I wasn’t sure now was the time to tell her that ultimately the hotel wouldn’t belong to me. But in the end, did it really matter? Theo would get his hotel. Charlie would get to be the hero who saved the beloved theater. And I’d be the new owner of The Bach Company. Everybody would win.
The only problem was that I wouldn’t be staying in New Elwood. And that wasn’t a problem; that had been the plan all along. I couldn’t change it now. Not for anything.
Still, when I glanced over and saw the soft smile on Charlie’s face, the light shining in her eyes, a pinch in my heart made me wince.
We spent the rest of the drive discussing our pitch to the councilmembers while Charlie typed out all of our ideas on her laptop. The collaboration felt effortless, and that pain in my heart returned. I was beginning to feel sorry that I wouldn’t actually be able to see it through with her. When we crossed over the county line and passed the “Welcome to Arlington, Virginia” sign, I remembered that New Elwood was my deep past, but my future was here. It had to be.
After a good thirty minutes of stop-and-go NOVA traffic, we drove over the Potomac on the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge into our nation’s capital. Charlie’s nose was practically glued to the passenger window as she caught a glimpse of the Capitol and the Washington Monument in the distance.
“Is this like your historical wet dream come to life or what?” I joked.
She swatted my arm and promptly went back to admiring the view. “I haven’t been here for so long. I forgot how beautiful it is.”
When you lived in the area, you could get a little jaded. All of these ancient structures became the backdrop to your ordinary life. Seeing the look of awe on Charlie’s face reminded me that they were fascinating and worthy of a wide-eyed gaze. People traveled from all over the world to catch a glimpse of American history. Just more proof that Charlie was right. There was so much more to old-ass buildings than what met the eye. Maybe I’d needed the reminder more than I wanted to admit.
After driving around loopy streets in the pickup, we pulled up to the lighting warehouse where the marquee bulbs were being held hostage. But we quickly learned we’d have to wait a little longer to pay the ransom.
“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” the warehouse guy told us. “Your order should be ready around four.”
“That’s three hours from now. What are we going to do until then?” Charlie asked as if she’d forgotten where we were. This was Washington DC, one of the most historical sites in the entire country. I knew exactly where to take her.
“C’mon,” I said. “I know the perfect place.”
Somehow, I not only managed to find street parking but wedged the gas guzzler between two other cars without a scratch.
“Where are we going?” Charlie asked, squinting her eyes in the midday sun, and I watched a few freckles dance on the bridge of her nose when she scrunched it. I liked seeing her like this: loose and happy and free. I’d been attracted to her from the minute she’d fallen through the ceiling and shown me that sharp tongue of hers, but there was something special about this side of her. It made me feel like I was in possession of a precious, fragile jewel. I wanted to cherish it.
“You’ll see.” I smiled and took her hand, pulling her along. She let me squeeze her dainty fingers in mine, and I felt the rush of her sweet skin.
We walked up 10th Street toward this historic landmark, preserved with its white archways and red-brick fa?ade, and flanked by a building constructed within the century. The sign connecting the two structures came into view.
Charlie gasped, clasping her free hand over her mouth. “Ford’s Theater?”
“The one and only.”
She looked at me with her big blue heritage-loving eyes, and I grinned at her anticipation. “Oh, I’m so excited! This is one of the oldest theaters in the country.”
She couldn’t get inside fast enough. I followed her into the museum exhibit. Wandering from plaque to plaque, Charlie read each one, taking in all the Lincoln artifacts. I, on the other hand, found my attention wandering to her face—soft cheekbones, pillowy lips, and the little wrinkle that appeared between her brows when she focused on something.
She caught me staring again. “What?” she asked, a fresh blush on the apples of her cheeks.
“Nothing. You have a little…” I swept my thumb over her chin, and her lips parted. She looked up at me and I felt her breath on my skin as I pulled my hand away.
“Did I really have something on my face?” She brushed her chin after me.
I bit my lip, having flashbacks to the last time we visited a theater. “No.”
The corners of her mouth turned up into a coy smile, and she turned toward the staircase. I was on her heels when we walked out onto the balcony inside the legendary auditorium, but it still wasn’t close enough. She walked along the scarlet-colored carpet to the brass railing and looked out.
“I thought this place might give us some more ideas since it’s been maintained for nearly two hundred years with a modern addition,” I said.
“Pretty smart, Sebastian. I was just thinking how great it would be to have some kind of static exhibit about the history of the Monticello. I know Gladys at the museum has some great photographs and old records of when it was being built. There’s this one picture of Warren Beatty when he visited in the sixties. But I think it was by accident because he meant to go to Jefferson’s Monticello in Charlottesville. Happens all the time, actually. Maybe we should change the name.”
“Yeah, we can call it the Washington Reeves Hotel,” I said with a wink.
“Sounds better than the Anderson Hotel,” she shot back, and I laughed. Charlie turned her head toward the iconic balcony on the right. “So there it is. That’s where Lincoln was assassinated. Like right there!”
Creamy yellow curtains hung from the open archways, and the ledge was draped in American flags. In the center, facing the theater, hung a framed photo of George Washington. I stood for a moment of silence with Charlie and took it all in. Just a hundred and fifty years ago, Lincoln, one of the greatest American presidents to ever live, was here in that exact spot. I tried to imagine if this venue had been destroyed by modern, money-loving yuppies like me. I’d have no way to connect with the past. To learn from it.
Or connect with Charlie and learn from her.
I couldn’t stand that somber look on Charlie’s face, eyes turning pink, so I pointed at the frame and said, “I don’t know who’s in charge around here, but they have the wrong president pictured.”
Charlie laughed and nudged me with her shoulder, and I felt instant relief. “No, they don’t. That’s how it was decorated the night Lincoln was shot. They wanted it to look presidential.”
“Ah, and who’s more presidential than George Washington.”
“Exactly. Can we go see the Lincoln Memorial now?”
“Sure. We can walk there.”
I took her hand again as we trekked toward the National Mall. Being here with Charlie felt right. It made sense. If I were being honest with myself, being anywhere with her felt right—even in New Elwood. Walking the streets of DC, I began to notice the hybridized fusion of time-honored properties and contemporary architecture. How the architects and planners blended the two styles so seamlessly, giving the district its own unique vibe.
I thought coming here with Charlie would be a nice day trip for her. I hadn’t expected to look around and be forced to examine all the ways that I’d been wrong since I inherited those properties from my grandmother. But with Charlie’s fingers braided in mine, it felt like the gentle click of puzzle pieces falling into place. She’d been right, and I’d been right. We were better when we worked together. For a moment, I let myself imagine that the rest of my life would be just like this. I could hold her hand and enjoy the floral-scented air of spring. I could make plans and get her input. I’d get to see that brightness in her eyes that made me feel like I’d just won a million-dollar lottery.
“I have to say I’m really glad the bulbs weren’t ready. We’d be halfway home now, and I wouldn’t get to experience this. With you,” she said, an echo of my own thoughts. My chest warmed, and I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
The sun had begun to fall behind the Lincoln Memorial as we walked up the shaded stone steps. The crowd seemed to disperse for us. Lincoln’s larger-than-life statue greeted us at the top. Charlie placed her hand over her heart in a silent honoring.
“Sebastian, please tell me you can’t stand here and not have respect and appreciation for history.”
I studied the light and shadow playing on her skin, the line of her neck, the way her eyes traced the monument like she could see the man and not the marble. “I do,” I told her softly. I appreciated history because I appreciated her.
“Something old, something new,” Charlie said, as if lost in thought. Just like DC. It wasn’t stuck in time. We’d brought the most important pieces of it with us.
We turned back and walked alongside the Reflecting Pool. Charlie was silent as if she were taking it all in. The place carried a certain weight that caused me to join her in reflection. No quips. No banter. Just the two of us. It wasn’t long before we were met with fifty high-flying American flags that encircled the Washington Monument. Charlie and I craned our necks all the way back, and it still never felt like we’d see the top.
“Did you know it took over a hundred years from the time this monument was proposed until it was finished? That’s generations of Americans who built this,” Charlie said.
“Yeah, that sounds like a typical construction schedule to me.”
She giggled. “Now you know why I’m not a fan of reconstruction. Takes too long.”
“Yeah, but when it’s finished, you might end up with something really spectacular.”
Her eyes glinted in the light as a gust of wind swept between us. I’d restrained myself for long enough. I needed her closer. I wanted to curl my arms around her waist and feel her pressed against my chest. So I swept her into me without a second thought and closed the space between us. Much better.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” I said.
“What’s that?” She tilted her chin.
“Your middle name. Are you related to George Washington?”
“No,” she said. “My mother was just really patriotic.”
Well, that answered that. She bit her lip, gaze tracing my face, then lifted her fingers to brush my jaw. I leaned into her touch as my eyes fell closed, and I wondered if I’d ever felt this good with anyone, ever. The air tasted sweet, and Charlie fit perfectly in my arms, and all I wanted was to call her mine.
“I’m seeing a new side of you, Anderson,” she murmured in the shadow of the monument.
“I’m still me,” I told her, even though it felt like a lie. I was so much more than who I’d been when we met. She made me feel like I could do anything. Be anyone. My palm spread over her lower back, and I lifted my other hand to cup her cheek.
“Thank you for bringing me here.” She smiled, her fingers sliding to my nape where the slightest pressure tilted my head down to hers.
I kissed her, and a key turned in my locked heart. As a gentle breeze fluttered around us, I lost myself in the feel of this woman in my arms. In the soft moan that traveled through her throat and the way her fingers tightened on my scalp. I tasted happiness on her lips and wondered if it was mine.
I would’ve kissed her until the sun went down and came up again, but my phone rang. Charlie pulled away, lids heavy, a soft smile on her mouth. “That’ll be the lighting manufacturer,” she said, in a drowsy kind of voice that made my cock feel heavy and my blood run hot.
Reluctantly, I pulled away and checked the phone. She was right, which meant the bulbs were ready. It was time to go.
She stuck her hands in her back pockets and looked around like she was going to miss the place. I wanted to tell her she could visit anytime. And I hoped she would, even though the thought of only seeing her when she made the trek to the city sent a dart of pain piercing through my chest.
Voice thick, I turned us toward the truck and said, “I guess we better head over before they close.”
Back at the manufacturer warehouse, we loaded the boxes into the truck bed, insulated the extra space with the furniture pads Rex stuck in the back for us, and closed the cover. When we were ready to go, I checked the gas gauge.
“We need to fuel up if we want to make it back tonight. NOVA traffic is no joke. It could take a while.” That was another good thing about New Elwood—their rush hour was nonexistent. Saved me a lot of time, which was nice.
“Or, we could grab something to eat and wait for it to clear up. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Charlie gave me that sparkly-eyed grin I loved, and I knew I’d say yes to anything she proposed.
“I know just the place.”
I drove us across the bridge to Freedom Tavern, a historic building-turned-restaurant near my apartment. Inside, we inhaled the smell of fresh pasta and savory meats. Sitting in a corner booth, I slid in next to her and rested my arm around the backrest. Charlie scooted in close to me and leaned her head on my shoulder. She looked up at the haphazardly placed photographs of dead guys on the wall behind us. “You really know how to show a history buff a good time.”
“What can I say? I know what you like,” I whispered in her ear.
She turned to face me, our noses nestled together. “Yes, you do, Mr. Anderson.”
“You seem much more relaxed here. It’s too bad our little DC adventure’s almost over.”
The look she gave me made all the blood in my body rush south. It was dark and hot, and I knew she wasn’t thinking about any history except the one we shared. “Maybe it doesn’t have to be. There is one tour I haven’t been on yet.”
It was hard to keep up when she was looking at me like that. I blinked. “What’s that?”
“Your fancy high rise. I want to see where you call home.”
The food had yet to arrive, but all I could think was, “Check please!”