Chapter 24
Sebastian
We stand at the front door of a house I’ve only been inside of once. I had to make sure they were safe for Lizzy all those years ago, so I inspected every inch, ensuring they were who they said they were. Which they are.
When an elderly woman opens the door, she wears a bright smile. “You must be Sebastian. Come in. We are so excited to meet the man that has our Lizzy in a tizzy.”
Lizzy walks in front of me. I can hear her talking to Tom in the living room, but I stay in the doorway as I present Betty with tulips. “I got these for you. As a thank you for having me over and,” I lower my voice, “for taking care of Lizzy.”
I hand them over to her, and she coos at the flowers. “Thank you, dear. These are absolutely lovely. Follow the voices ahead to get to the living room. I’m going to put these in a vase.”
Doing as I’m told, I seek out Lizzy in the living room. She’s seated across Tom, a game of chess between them. I stand in the doorway, more than a little impressed by their skill. Playing against a stranger is hard, but playing against your partner is even harder because they know you so well.
Tom senses me first and turns. When his eyes narrow, I stand tall. Lizzy may not know this, but Tom is a military man. He notices the small things like posture, mannerisms, and confidence.
Donning an unassuming demeanor, I beeline towards them. Tom ignores the game and stands meeting me halfway. Even at such a late age, he’s only a few inches shorter than I am.
“Thank you for having me over, Tom. I brought this whiskey for you. I appreciate all you’ve done.” My eyes quickly whip to Lizzy in a silent acknowledgement. He understands what I mean and extends a hand. I shake it, my grip firm.
“So, what is it you do, boy?” Tom asks, still skeptical of me. After the last man he met for Lizzy, I understand why. It makes me appreciate him more for watching over her.
“I’m the Chief Technology Operator for Syndicate Enterprise. But I still heavily act as a software engineer. There’s nothing I enjoy more than creating things.” My tone is relaxed, but as Tom scrutinizes me, I wonder if I’ve misspoken.
“Syndicate Enterprise is a powerful company. It has such a reputation. What did you say your last name is?” Tom’s tone is so friendly that Lizzy returns her focus to the board, missing the sharp look in his eyes.
“Sebastian Montclair.” There’s tightness in my chest because Tom knows. I should’ve done more research into his past. He didn’t operate in the underground, I know that much. But now I wonder if he did more research in the city after he retired.
“The Montclairs are a powerful family. I’m surprised to find one living in Lizzy’s neighborhood,” Tom muses.
“It’s a good neighborhood. I enjoy how quiet it is.” My hand itches to take my glasses off, but I refrain. Tom will sniff out any weakness.
“I’d like to see it stay that way.” The threat is evident in his firm tone, so I nod.
“It will. I’ve been there for years. I don’t plan on going anywhere.” I won’t let anything happen to the neighborhood. Nor to her.
“It’s your turn.” Lizzy’s voice pulls us to the presence. As Tom turns to face Lizzy, he somehow transforms back into an unassuming elderly man. I didn’t realize how much fiercer he looked while speaking to me.
Tom keeps an eye on me while he plays against Lizzy. I’d say it’s why he loses, but Lizzy is simply more conniving. I itch to play against her. I now have the advantage after studying her strategy.
“Dinner’s ready. We’re having braised short ribs. I’ve spent all afternoon cooking,” Betty says with a smile. Lizzy perking up tells me that it’s going to be a delicious dinner.
Tom mumbles something under his breath. I make out something about “have to sharing” and “undeserving mobster.”
Betty narrows her eyes and turns on him. “What was that?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. This is one of my favorites. I’m excited.” He kisses his wife on the cheek then goes into the kitchen.
“Come on, kids. Make yourselves a plate and come sit.” As she says it, she goes over and serves herself, Tom standing to the side letting the ladies commence.
It’s a homely sight. Even when young, we always had a chef plate our dinners, and servers deliver them. I’m not used to serving myself in a family environment. The down-to-earth feeling grounds me.
The aroma of the meat and vegetables has my stomach letting out an embarrassing growl. I gingerly serve myself, only for Betty to click her tongue.
“You’re a growing man. You need to eat more than that.” She snatches the tongs from my hand and doubles my portion of meat.
I don’t bother correcting her that I haven’t grown in over a decade. I accept the generous serving and thank her.
“Why don’t I get more?” Tom questions grouchily, glaring at me as though it’s my fault I’ve gained his wife’s favor.
“Because the doctor said you’re fat!” Betty snaps at her husband.
Lizzy makes eye contact with me, and I’m on the verge of laughing as this kind woman snaps at her husband. Lizzy, the naughty fiend, makes a face at me, trying to get me to laugh.
“It’s muscle. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, the son of a bitch,” Tom grumbles, but puts back some of his ribs into the pot.
We sit, and conversation flows easily. Tom occasionally glares at me, but his suspicious nature soothes me. If something happens to me, Tom will protect my angel.
Betty covertly flashes Lizzy grins, but I catch them all. Her questions are kind and curious, simply wanting to learn more about me. When Lizzy tells them about my burgers the other night, Betty gets excited, demanding the recipe. Meanwhile I redden at the memory of what else took place that night.
Tom immediately clocks it and narrows his gaze at me. My main goal for the rest of the evening is to avoid provoking Tom and to show him how much Lizzy means to me.
We end the night in the living room, playing Clue.
Within the first ten minutes, I solve the game, but I keep it to myself.
When we’re twenty minutes into the game, I suspect I’m not the only one who has figured it out.
And by the time twenty-five minutes have passed and Betty finally solves the game, I realize we all were letting her win.
I typically don’t let others beat me at anything, but I figured it wouldn’t help my situation with Tom if I beat him at his game in his house.
The night ends when Lizzy starts yawning. I cross the room and offer her a hand to help her up. We stand and collect our coats. While Betty fusses over Lizzy, Tom approaches me.
“You better treat her right. I won’t tolerate anything differently.” His voice is low, his tone serious.
“Yes, sir. I’ll never hurt her. She’s all I could ever ask for. I will treasure her forever,” I swear to him.
“You love her.” He doesn’t ask it. It isn’t a question, but a statement. He’s telling me he knows.
“More than she knows. More than the stars in the sky. She’s my angel. My reason for it all,” I confide in him in a hushed tone.
“I know. She’s a special girl. And you’ll be a lucky man if she chooses you.” I nod in agreement.
At that moment, Lizzy wraps her arm around mine and grips my bicep. Instinctively, I flex. Her fingers run up and down my muscle, causing an urgent situation below my belt. I rush us to the car, only after Betty demands a hug.
I’m beyond grateful that Lizzy has had those two in her life these past few years. And I’m looking forward to spending more time with them in the future.