Chapter 19
SEBASTIAN
The early afternoon sun was brutal. Everyone was congratulating me on a good session.
I had every intention of stepping in front of the camera for a few shots only, but a few turned into a whole damn session.
But I wasn’t going to deny Elizabeth, and after I checked the monitors, I agreed with her. The shots were really good.
The next location was already being set up. My guys knew what to do, but of course, Little Miss Safety was right up in their business. Not in a bad way and no one seemed all that bothered. She was just doing what she did.
I watched her for approximately three seconds, checking out her ass when she bent over and stared at her exposed neck while imagining my tongue on it before I made an executive decision.
I needed a break.
From her.
I couldn’t be in her vicinity. I was still sporting a semi and it would not be okay if that semi became the real deal. The shorts weren’t loose enough to hide that situation.
I left the area and walked toward the craft services tent. I needed a minute to cool the libido. And my body because shit, it was hot. I felt like I was coated in a layer of sweat.
The tent was blessedly cool, shaded from the relentless sun. Cookie was there, and so was Elizabeth, who was sitting at one of the small tables watching Cookie work at the portable grill.
“Grilled cheese and pickles,” Cookie was saying, flipping the sandwich in a way that said she done the same move a million times. “Coming right up.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Elizabeth said, then looked up and saw me. “Hey! Thank you so much for the shots. I hope I didn’t put you on the spot.”
I waved a hand. “It’s fine. It’s fun when I’m not technically working.”
“The pictures are going to look good. I think we got several good ones that will be perfect for the billboards.”
I smiled because she was right but I also hoped the marketing team didn’t put the ones of me on the billboard. I wanted to pull back from that side of things. Not completely, but not billboards, at least.
“Is it time for second lunch already?” Cookie asked.
“Just taking a break while they set up,” I said.
Elizabeth laughed. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“What?”
“Are you going to tell me you’re not avoiding a certain insurance robot?”
Cookie’s head snapped up. “Say what now?”
“Annika told me what you’ve been getting up to.”
I groaned and dropped into a chair. “You all gossip worse than children. Worse than the models. Worse than old ladies that share a fence line.”
“He was tongue wrestling with Bernadette,” Elizabeth announced to Cookie.
Cookie’s expression shifted from surprise to something almost protective. “I knew I shouldn’t have given her water. That girl is trouble.”
“Cookie, please don’t starve her or withhold water,” I said. “She’s not trouble. She’s just doing her job.”
“I thought she was uptight? A giant pain in your ass, right?”
“She’s nice,” I said defensively. “Once you get past the… everything.”
“She’ll get the leftovers,” Cookie muttered. “I’m not making anything for her.”
“I doubt her personality will get any better when she’s hungry and dehydrated,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully. “We don’t want Buzzkill Bernadette coming back.”
“Please don’t call her that,” I said immediately.
Cookie flipped Elizabeth’s sandwich onto a plate. “Everyone’s been calling her that, you know. Buzzkill Bernadette. Since that first day.”
“Fuck.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I need to tell everyone to cut it out.”
“That’ll just have the opposite effect,” Elizabeth said, picking up her sandwich. “Tell people not to use a nickname and they’ll use it more. It’s like the Streisand effect. Just say nothing. Don’t get involved. She’s a grown woman. She can handle it.”
“Fine,” I muttered, grabbing a cookie from the table Cookie kept stocked. I shoved half of it in my mouth, chewing aggressively. I wasn’t usually a cookie guy, but I needed sugar.
“You’ve got it bad,” Elizabeth observed.
“I don’t have anything.”
“Mm-hmm.” She took a bite of her sandwich, somehow making grilled cheese look elegant. “Just so you know, avoiding each other isn’t going to make this less weird.”
“I’m not avoiding her. She’s avoiding me.”
“You’re both avoiding each other. It’s actually impressive how synchronized you are. Although I saw the way she watched you doing your thing in front of the camera.”
“Don’t tell Adrian you were looking at me,” I teased.
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t looking at you. I was looking at her look at you. That’s the way I look at my man.”
I finished the cookie and grabbed another one. Stress eating. Again. At this rate, I would need to extend my morning runs.
“What am I supposed to say to her?” I asked. “Hey, sorry I kissed you and then bolted into the rain like a coward. Want to pretend it never happened?”
“Do you want to pretend it never happened?” Elizabeth asked.
I thought about Bernadette pressed against the porch railing. “No.”
“Then tell her that.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It really is.”
Cookie nodded her agreement.
“When did everyone become relationship experts?” I muttered.
“When you started acting like a lovesick teenager,” Elizabeth said sweetly. “Now go finish your shoot, and tonight, talk to her. Really talk to her.”
I reached for a third cookie, but Cookie swatted my hand away.
“No more cookies for you,” she said firmly. “You’re going to break out and then blame me when you look puffy in the photos.”
“I don’t get puffy.”
“Everyone gets puffy when they stress-eat sugar.” She was already pulling out ingredients. “I’m making you another wrap. Lettuce, turkey, and nothing fun.”
“You’re cruel.”
“I’m keeping you employed.” She started assembling the wrap. “Your face is your fortune, pretty boy. Don’t forget it.”
I slumped in my chair, watching her work. Elizabeth was still eating her grilled cheese, looking far too amused by my misery.
“You know what I’m excited about?” she said, clearly changing the subject to give me a break.
“When this campaign finally hits the market. I’ve been working on this collection forever.
Granted, most of it was nothing but images in my head, but still seeing it come to life like this—it’s everything I dreamed of. ”
“It’s going to be huge,” I said, grateful for the distraction. “The designs are incredible.”
“I want to see them in stores. On billboards. On real women who aren’t just models.
” Her eyes lit up the way they always did when she talked about her work.
“I want to walk down the street and see someone wearing one of my dresses and feel like I made something that matters. Something that makes people feel beautiful.”
“You already do that,” I said. “Your last collection was a hit.”
“Thanks, Sebastian.” She smiled at me. I realized I really liked having a sister. “This whole shoot and everything you’re doing—it means the world to me. I know it’s been stressful, but you’re making my vision real. You’re giving these clothes the showcase they deserve.”
Cookie slid a plate in front of me with the world’s most boring lettuce wrap. No sauce. No cheese. Just lettuce, turkey, and disappointment.
“Eat,” she commanded.
I picked it up and took a bite. It tasted like sadness wrapped in leaves. I felt like I should have floppy ears and giant front teeth like the rabbit Cookie thought I was. Elizabeth was still talking about the campaign and her plans for the next collection.
And despite the terrible wrap and my complicated feelings about Bernadette and the pressure of not screwing everything up, I felt something settle in my chest.
Pride.
It was working. We were making something good. Something Elizabeth had poured her heart into and I was going to be the guy that made it pop. If I could impress Adrian’s wife, that had to win me some brownie points with my grumpy brother.
I just needed to stop running from the redhead who made my pulse race and my brain short-circuit.
Tonight. I’d talk to her tonight.
Assuming I didn’t lose my nerve and hide in my bungalow.
By the time evening rolled around, I’d worked myself into a state of controlled anxiety. I needed those taro chips from the resort lobby. Not because I was stress eating—definitely not that—but because they were delicious and I’d earned a snack after a long day of very professional work.
I left my bungalow and headed toward the main building. I still needed to talk to Bernadette, but I couldn’t quite find the right words. I knew I should say something casual. An acknowledgment of what happened without making it weird.
I was so lost in my mental script that I almost walked directly into her.
She was coming out of the lobby just as I was approaching. We both stopped short. For a second, we just stared at each other.
“Sorry,” I grunted, moving right to walk around her.
She moved right too.
I shifted left. So did she.
We did an awkward dance for a few seconds, and something in me snapped. This was ridiculous. We were adults. We’d kissed. Now we needed to deal with it instead of playing bumper cars in front of the resort lobby.
I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to stay put. I looked directly into her eyes.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “Can we just talk like adults?”
Her eyes widened slightly. I could feel the tension in her shoulders under my hands. For a moment, I thought she might pull away. She was going to be the one to flee, and honestly, that would be great. It would save me an awkward conversation and we would be even on the running-away thing.
Then she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. My bungalow?”
“Okay.”
That was not what I expected, but I was relieved. Kind of. I was also freaking out a little. Was it safe to be alone with her?
Definitely not.