Chapter 32
BERNADETTE
Icouldn’t sleep.
The alcohol I’d consumed with Annika had seemed like a good idea at the time. It started as a way to numb the hurt from Sebastian’s casual dismissal. And then the drinks I had at the party were all about loosening up, having fun, and fitting in.
Turned out, I wasn’t much of a drinker. I certainly had the mechanics down just fine, but my body did not approve.
And now I was paying a high price for it.
One good thing about being an unpopular nerd—there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for partying.
I could have, but I wasn’t invited out a lot, and the few times I did go out with acquaintances, they were just as geeky as I was.
We never really tore up a dance floor or closed down a club.
I was a novice and paying for it. My stomach churned. My head pounded and everything was spinning even when I closed my eyes. It felt like a rodent had crawled into my mouth and died. It was gross and I had no idea how to fix it.
I couldn’t stop replaying what had happened.
I’d been drinking with the crew. Having fun, for once. Feeling included. I had been one of the cool kids. It was fun. The models talked to me. The people that had been on the shoot praised my work. They told me I was beautiful and all the things a girl wanted to hear.
And yes, I had appreciated the attention from the men.
Not that I had even considered anything more than just talking with them.
I wasn’t even thinking about kissing them.
No thanks. It was just nice to be seen and admired.
I could definitely see why models tended to be just a little arrogant.
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be looked at like that all day by billions of people.
It was definitely a head rush and my ego had been thoroughly stroked.
But then there was the downside to being noticed.
Rico had been annoying. Not going to lie, the dude was icky. Attractive, I supposed, but bad vibes rolled off him. He was constantly standing too close, touching my waist, and making comments about how I should let him photograph me privately.
It wasn’t so bad. I was used to creepy guys.
Years of working in a male-dominated field had taught me how to deflect and laugh off the obnoxious comments.
As a female, I was born with that let-them-down-easy gene.
Never offend. Never make them feel like the assholes they were being.
I knew how to extract myself from uncomfortable situations.
I’d been about to excuse myself. Was literally opening my mouth to say I was tired and heading to bed when Sebastian had appeared like some kind of avenging angel. Or more accurately, like a barbarian. Storming up, grabbing Rico, his face twisted with rage I’d never seen before.
He’d lost control. Completely. Utterly.
My lady heart was stupidly attracted to his touch-her-and-die thing, but the logical side of me? That bitch was pissed. Miss Logic had outlined about twenty different ways it was a disaster in under a minute.
There were police involved. Citations. Potential fines. The very real possibility that the Miratoan government would shut down the entire production. They got the shots, but they wouldn’t get the runway show.
Everything I worked to prevent was over in one heated moment. Everything I’d tried to protect. Gone, because Sebastian Blackwell couldn’t control his temper for five seconds.
I rolled over, pulling the pillow over my head, trying to block out my thoughts. But they kept coming anyway.
The look on his face when he’d seen Rico touching me?
It was like something feral had been unleashed.
Like he’d been ready to kill for me. That was pure man.
Women were hardwired to want alpha. I wasn’t into the clubbing me over the head and dragging me back to his bungalow typically, but holy shit.
If he would have tried, I couldn’t say I would have fought all that hard.
It had been hot.
And frustrating.
And it did piss me off a little that he thought he had to save me. That was the inner feminist making her opinion known.
No one had ever fought for me before. Protected me like that. And some twisted part of me had liked it, even as the rational part screamed that this was a disaster.
I finally drifted off sometime after four when the world stopped spinning and my brain quieted. Unfortunately, my dreams were a hot mess. I bounced from my father walking in on me riding Sebastian like a lady going for eight seconds on a bull to Sebastian being dragged away in an orange jumpsuit.
Knocking woke me. Loud and insistent and just way more than was necessary.
I dragged myself out of bed, my head pounding, my mouth tasting like regret. I threw on a robe and stumbled to the door.
Briggs Blackwell stood there, looking impeccable despite the early hour. Suit, tie, briefcase. Full attorney mode.
“Ms. Simmons,” he said. “I’m sorry to disturb you so early. May I come in?”
“What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty.”
I stepped aside, letting him in. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
I could not even begin to imagine what I looked like.
Less Venus, more Medusa, I suspected. I didn’t bother washing off the makeup from the photoshoot last night when I fell into bed.
I could feel my hair standing up. The amount of product that had been sprayed, squirted, and squeezed into my hair to keep it looking perfectly natural and wavy was insane.
I was pretty sure I was going to need to go through the equivalent of a carwash to remove the remnants of the glam.
But my hangover told me I didn’t care what I looked like. I wasn’t trying to impress Briggs. I didn’t have the energy to want to look put together. I was a mess and I was ready to own it.
I made coffee, extra strong. I handed Briggs a cup and sat across from him at the small table.
I sipped my coffee and stared at him. I knew I should make small talk or some stupid shit, but I didn’t want to.
I waited for him to explain why he was trying to take my door down far too early in the morning.
“I wanted to check in with you,” he said, his tone gentle. “After last night. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Do you need anything? Feel unsafe in any way?”
I understood what he was really asking. And it irritated me. If Sebastian wanted to treat me like a damsel in distress, that was fine. He’d seen me naked and I would allow it. Briggs hadn’t and I didn’t like being seen as weak or a victim.
“Sebastian hasn’t been inappropriate with me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Has he?” Briggs’s eyes locked on mine. I could just imagine him in a courtroom. He could definitely be intimidating.
“Has he what?” I snapped.
“Been inappropriate?”
I thought about Sebastian’s hands on my skin. His mouth on mine. The way he feasted on my body.
“No,” I said firmly. “He’s been nothing but respectful.”
Briggs sipped his coffee, watching me. “What happened last night, from your perspective?”
I told him about Rico. The unwanted attention, the pushy behavior, and how Sebastian rode in on his white horse and rescued me. Or something close to that.
“Sebastian was defending you,” Briggs said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Rico was being aggressive. Making me uncomfortable. Sebastian saw that and stepped in.”
“By assaulting him.”
“By protecting me.” I met his eyes. “If anyone was inappropriate last night, it was Rico. Not Sebastian. Some guys are obtuse. They purposely ignore the signals. Sometimes, it takes someone quite literally punching them in the face to get the message. If Sebastian hadn’t punched him, I would have put my knee in his balls. ”
Briggs paled.
But I was on a roll. It was my turn to save Sebastian.
I could do it with words. “I live in Manhattan. I like to take the subway from time to time. I work late and walk alone. I’ve taken self-defense classes.
I know how to take a man to his knees and blind him before throat-punching him.
If Sebastian wasn’t there, I would have made sure Rico never used his little mister again. ”
I had no idea what came over me. Maybe I was still drunk. Definitely a little drunk. The liquid courage was mingling with the caffeine in the coffee and I was afraid it had created a monster.
Briggs looked like he was choking. He reached for his tie and tugged. “I see.”
I forced a smile.
Briggs made notes on his phone. “The police are interviewing everyone this morning. I’ve already spoken with several crew members who corroborate your account. Rico has a history of this kind of behavior on other productions.”
“So what happens now?”
“I’m working with the Miratoan authorities to resolve this.
Hopefully, we can frame it as a misunderstanding.
Rico will likely be sent home. Sebastian will probably face a fine.
But the production should continue.” He set down his coffee.
“I’m sorry this happened. My brother… he wasn’t ready for this level of responsibility. ”
The criticism of Sebastian sparked something defensive in me. If Briggs wasn’t careful, he was going to need to protect his family jewels as well. I was feeling a little feisty.
I slapped my hand on the table. Briggs looked up from his phone with surprise.
“Nope. Nuh-uh. You don’t get to say that. That’s not fair. He’s been amazing this past week. The campaign is incredible. Everyone’s been praising his work. He had one bad moment last night, but that shouldn’t overshadow everything he’s accomplished.”
Briggs sat back, studying me with those sharp lawyer eyes. “Is there something going on between you and Sebastian?”
My heart stopped. “What?”
“I think you heard me.”
“Are you asking as his lawyer or as his brother?”
He pursed his lips in thought. “Brother. For now.”
I took a breath. Considered lying. But what was the point? “He’s a surprisingly sweet man. But yes, it was a huge mistake.”
Briggs’s expression didn’t change, but I saw understanding flicker in his eyes. “That seems like the kind of conflict of interest that would get an insurance rep fired.”
“Yes.” I wrapped my hands around my coffee cup. “Like I said, a mistake.”
He nodded slowly. “I see.”
I didn’t know what he thought he saw but asking seemed like the wrong thing to do, so I stayed quiet.
“The campaign will be fine. I’ll make sure of it.” He stood. “If you need anything—anything at all—please let me know. And Ms. Simmons? Thank you for being honest.”
After he left, I sat at the table, staring into my coffee, feeling hollowed out.
Annika emerged from her room, already dressed. “Was that Briggs?”
“Yeah. Doing damage control.”
“I heard about the situation last night.”
I didn’t ask how she heard or what she thought. I just nodded and sipped my coffee, hoping it would keep clearing out the cobwebs the hangover had left in my head.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face, belatedly realizing I probably just smeared more makeup. “No, I’m really not okay.”
“I don’t know what you did to that man, but he’s completely lost his mind over you.”
“He hasn’t lost his mind. He just lost his temper.”
“Bernadette, I’ve known Sebastian for years. I’ve dressed him for hundreds of shoots. I’ve seen models fight over him—literal catfights, fake nails and hair extensions everywhere.” She squeezed my shoulder. “But I’ve never seen him fight over a girl. Never. He’s scary when he’s in love.”
“He’s not in love,” I said automatically.
“He’s in something.”
“Trouble, probably.” Guilt crashed over me. “This is my fault. I should have handled Rico myself. I should have left earlier. I definitely shouldn’t have been drinking with the crew at all.”
“Stop. This is not your fault. Rico was being a creep. Sebastian reacted badly, but his intentions were good.”
“Good intentions don’t matter when the police are involved.”
“No, they don’t.” She stood, moving to make more coffee. “But they matter in other ways. The man was willing to risk everything—the campaign, his reputation, his family’s trust—to defend you. That means something.”
It meant he was impulsive and reckless. It meant he didn’t think about consequences. It meant exactly what everyone had worried about—that he wasn’t ready for this responsibility.
But it also meant he cared.
“He’s everything I’m not,” I said. “He has zero cares. I have all the cares.”
She laughed softly. “I believe they say opposites attract.”
“I think that applies to magnets only.”
“And people.”
I pushed myself up, my head spinning for a moment. “I’m going to shower. How do I remove the glue from my hair and the spackle from my face?”
She laughed. “Soap and water. You’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that. Nothing about my fantasy tropical getaway was fine. It had gone from amazing to an absolute dumpster fire in a matter of hours.