Chapter 5
SEBASTIAN
Iwalked into Annika’s workshop ready to go over transportation logistics for all the clothing for the Miratoa shoot, along with any last-minute issues for the trip. I was all about the work. I was focused.
Until I saw her.
A sexy little model emerged from the changing area, turning this way and that in a pretty sundress. The dress hugged her in all the right places before flowing out in a way that made me think of summer and sunshine and things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about in a professional setting.
Focus.
“Hey, Annika,” I called out, walking further into the workshop. “Did that stuffy nerd ever come in? You know, the insurance lady? Because a tropical island is not a good place for those pantsuits. She’s just begging for swamp bush.”
Annika’s eyes went wide.
The model in the sundress put her hands on her hips and turned to face me. It took my brain a second to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.
“What did you just say?” she asked, her voice dropping to a dangerous register.
Oh. Oh shit.
“Oh, Bernadette,” I said. “Now I recognize you. I think the smile threw me for a loop.” I gestured vaguely at her face. “I recognize that death glare, though. There’s the woman I know. How are you?”
She scowled at me. “I don’t have swamp bush.”
“And thanks to us, that will continue to be true,” I said, nodding at her.
I kept my expression neutral, but internally, I was shocked at how well Bernadette cleaned up. Because damn, the lady looked good when she wasn’t dressed like an eighty-year-old librarian. The dress showed off legs I hadn’t even known she had. Toned calves, a flash of thigh when she moved.
The neckline wasn’t low, but it hinted at curves that the pantsuits had completely hidden. Her hair was down, auburn waves falling around her shoulders and catching the light and showing off the red highlights. There was even a blush creeping up her cheeks, although that was probably from anger.
Still, she was a vision. No binders. No severe bun. Just Bernadette. The woman.
I forced myself to look away, turning my attention to Annika. Bernadette stomped back into the dressing room, disappearing behind the drawn curtain.
“So, Annika,” I said. “Final prep. How are we looking with the wardrobe department? Everything ready to fly halfway across the globe?”
Annika gave me a warm look. The woman had known me since I was basically a child, more like a fun aunt than an employee at this point.
“Yes, we’re all set for your big shoot. Every piece is catalogued, packed, and ready for transport.
Mary Jo has her makeup supplies organized and secured.
The accessories are inventoried. We even have backup options in case something gets damaged in transit or we change our minds on how to stage a shot. ”
“Perfect. And the garment bags can handle the humidity?”
“Sebastian, I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive. The garment bags will be fine.”
“Right. Of course. I just want to make sure this goes off without a hitch,” I said. “If one thing goes wrong, my brothers will never let me hear the end of it.”
She smiled. “If only one thing goes wrong, that would be a miracle. But if it will put your mind at ease, let me walk you through the checklists.” Annika led me to a bunch of plastic tubs lined up in a row along the wall.
She pulled up the list she’d made and showed me where each item had been packed. Seeing how thorough she was, I felt some of the tension drain out of me. Part of being in charge was learning to trust my team. I needed to remember these people were also professionals who knew what they were doing.
Bernadette came back out of the dressing room and I lost my train of thought.
She was in a white sleeveless blouse tucked into a pair of linen pants in a soft beige.
The outfit showed off her alluring figure.
The clothes made her look both professional and relaxed.
She caught me looking and raised an eyebrow.
I shot her a thumbs-up and she rolled her eyes at me. I turned back to Annika, ignoring the heat I was feeling. “What about the backups?”
“We have backups and we’re bringing all the sewing machines and supplies we might need to handle any last-minute adjustments.” Annika pointed at different containers as she spoke, pointing out where the stuff was.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bernadette turning left and right in front of the mirror. She was just a blurry shape in my peripheral vision, but I couldn’t think of anything else. Luckily for me, she disappeared back into the dressing room and released me from the spell she had me under.
Annika was going over some of the details about accessories. Bernadette emerged in a blue cocktail dress with spaghetti straps and a very short hemline. Fuck me.
“Sebastian.” Annika put a hand on my arm. “Everything is handled. Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worried. I’m being thorough. There’s a difference.”
Thoroughly distracted.
“Mm-hmm.” She patted my arm and went to help Bernadette with a zipper or button or something on the next outfit.
I tried to focus on my mental checklist. Flights confirmed. Accommodations booked. Equipment manifests reviewed. Permits filed. Everything was coming together. This was going to work. I was going to prove to everyone that I could handle this level of responsibility.
But my eyes kept drifting back to Bernadette as she argued with Annika with her hands on her hips. Bernadette didn’t seem to like the blue cocktail dress as much as I did.
Stop it, I told myself. Stop thinking with your dick. That’s exactly what your brothers expect you to do. Focus on the work.
But there was nothing wrong with some harmless flirting, right? Just to smooth things over and get her on my good side. I could turn on the charm when I needed to. It was a professional skill, really. Relationship management.
Bernadette had changed back into her original pantsuit and was gathering her things while Annika made notes about alterations.
I sidled over, putting on my best smile, the one that had landed me on magazine covers and in VIP sections of clubs across the globe.
I was once told I could tame rabid animals with my smile.
I didn’t think Bernadette was rabid, but she was definitely vicious.
I sauntered over, employing the swagger I knew the ladies loved. “That was quite the fashion show. You clean up nicely, Bernadette.”
She didn’t even blink. “Thank you.”
“I was thinking, since you’re going to be on the island with us, maybe we should get to know each other better. Build some rapport before we’re stuck together for two weeks.”
“We’re not stuck together. I’ll be doing my job, and you’ll be doing yours.”
“Right, but we could grab lunch sometime. Today, even. There’s this great place in—”
“I have a meeting,” she said, not even pretending to check her schedule. “Goodbye, Mr. Blackwell.”
She thanked Annika, who promised to have everything delivered to her apartment, and then she was gone, walking out of the workshop with her shoulders back and her head high, every inch the no-nonsense professional.
I stared after her until Annika appeared at my elbow, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary.
“Pretty girl, huh?” she said.
“I know lots of pretty girls.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “And most of them don’t want to rip my balls off like that one.”
“So you’re not even a little interested?”
“The only thing I’m interested in is making sure this project goes off without any problems.” I turned to face her, trying to project confidence I didn’t entirely feel.
“Annika, this is my chance to prove myself. To show Adrian and Briggs and everyone else that I’m more than just a pretty face.
I’m going to make the most of it. If I can be on good terms with that ball-buster, it would make my life easier.
That woman is determined to ruin our tropical adventure. ”
Annika, a woman who had seen me naked more times than I could count, patted my arm. She was like a second mom. She’d been literally dressing me for almost half my life. “You’re more capable than they give you credit for.”
“Yeah, well, now I just have to prove it.” I thought about Elizabeth and the months she’d spent designing this collection.
She’d been under so much pressure when she first joined the family.
She had struggled to get into the fashion world and I didn’t want to fuck that up for her.
“I don’t want to let Elizabeth down. She went through a lot when she first started designing for Blackwell. She deserves a flawless launch.”
“She does. And she has faith in you.”
“She’s the only one.” The words came out more bitter than I’d intended.
“That’s not true. I have faith in you. Your mother does. Even your brothers, in their own dysfunctional way.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did.
“Besides,” Annika continued, her tone turning teasing again. “Having a pretty insurance agent around for two weeks might not be the worst thing.”
“I’m not interested in Bernadette like that.”
“Of course not.”
“I’m serious. She’s a complication I don’t need. This whole thing is complicated enough without adding drama.”
“Without adding feelings?”
“Without adding anything.” I ran a hand through my hair.
“Look, I have a reputation. I know what people think. Playboy Sebastian, can’t keep it in his pants, distracted by anything in a skirt.
And maybe that’s been true in the past. But not this time.
This time I’m focused. I’m just trying to do that whole honey versus vinegar thing.
I have to be nice to keep her from riding me too hard. ”
Shit. That was a thought I did not need in my head.
“I mean, the only way I know how to make people like me is to flirt. It’s my default.”
Annika looked at me with a soft smile. “You know what I think?”
“That I’m a hopeless case?”
“I think you’re harder on yourself than anyone else is. And I think maybe you use all that partying and those women as a way to avoid thinking too hard about what you actually want.”
“Wow. Are you moonlighting as a therapist now?”
“I’m old. Old ladies are naturally good at cutting through bullshit.” She squeezed my arm. “You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” I muttered.
“Now get out of my workshop. I have actual work to do.”
I left, walking back through the Blackwell building with my mind churning. The campaign. The rules. The insurance. Bernadette in that sundress, looking nothing like the uptight woman who’d slid that binder across the conference table.
No. Focus.
“You ever going to settle down, Sebastian?” It was a ghostly whisper through my mind.
The question had been asked a dozen times before, by my mother, by friends, by former flames who’d wanted more than I was willing to give. My answer was always the same.
Maybe when I’m dead.
Because settling down meant vulnerability. It meant letting someone see past the charm and the smile and the carefully constructed image of the playboy rich guy. It meant risking being hurt. I didn’t like pain. I wasn’t one of those guys.
Better to keep moving. Keep it light. Keep it fun.
Even if, sometimes, I wondered what it might be like to have what Adrian had found with Elizabeth. That easy intimacy. That sense of being known.
It wasn’t in the cards for me, though. I wasn’t that guy.