Chapter 22
Sebastian
The room devolves into squeals of denial and excitement. But I’m not watching the others.
All my attention is focused on Emma.
Her mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again.
I sink into the chair that’s closest to her. The girls left it open, somehow knowing that the space by Emma’s side was mine.
I take her hand, noting how cool and fragile it feels. She attempts to yank it away with a scowl, but I’m not giving it up. I rub my thumb back and forth, and she shivers again, something she did when I first walked into the room. I cover her smooth legs with a blanket and tuck her in.
She makes a huff of annoyance, but I’m pleased that she doesn’t push it away.
I can’t get the sight of her crumpled on the hard ground out of my mind. She was so still; I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing.
My feelings at that moment defied words. Scared would be an understatement. I’d been way past fear. Beyond panic.
It was as if time split. Everything I thought was important before she hit the ground no longer was.
And my jumbled feelings became simple. The confusion that started the night Emma gave her notice.
The frustration over her refusing to change her mind.
The sinking pain of standing in the doorway of her apartment and realizing she didn’t trust me with her worries.
All that was wiped away to leave a blinding clarity, as quiet and calm as the sky after a tornado rolls through.
Before, there was the need for Emma to stay as my assistant.
After, there was only the need for her to be okay. And I vowed that if she was, I would do whatever it took to make sure she was safe, that she was happy—even if her happiness meant I finally had to accept she wanted her freedom.
Even if it meant me letting her go.
But first, I have to fulfill the initial part of my vow and make sure she heals.
Emma shakes her head, which seems to free her tongue. “You’re not my fiancé!”
“That’s not what the nursing staff thinks.
” I grin. “Only family was allowed in the room. So, I let them believe we’re engaged.
It was the only way I could stay. Oddly, my good looks and charm didn’t work on the head nurse.
Even being famous didn’t help. She said she hated actors. Something about an ex-boyfriend.”
“A discerning woman,” Daisy says. “I’d love to meet her.”
Emma yanks her hand out of my tight grip. “Oh my God. Why are you such a menace?” she cries. “I can’t believe you lied! What are we going to do when some chatty Cathy nurse tells the tabloids that we’re engaged?”
“We’ll deal with it when the time comes. I wasn’t thinking about the rumors. I only cared about staying with you,” I admit. “It was the first thing I could think of. I didn’t want you in the hospital without me.”
Emma’s eyes widen. Our gazes connect before she looks away. “You have zero impulse control,” she grumbles, but softer now. Then sighs. “Hopefully, no one will even believe we’re engaged in the first place.”
“Hate to break it to you. But they probably will,” Daisy says.
“Because of the photo of the two of you in front of that club that was all over the tabloids the other week looking quite cozy. And how Sebastian carried you out of the premiere. And then there is the article in Modern Man that just came out.”
“What article?” Emma asks.
“It’s very illuminating.” Daisy grins. She pulls a magazine with my face on the cover out of her bag and slaps it on the bed next to Emma.
I snatch the magazine before Emma can open it.
“Nope. Doctor’s concussion orders. No reading.” I roll it up and set it behind me on the chair.
Emma’s brow furrows. “What’s this all about? What did it say? Matt mentioned the article also, like something in the profile was a problem. Did the reporter trash Sebastian?”
“No. It was surprisingly effusive. However, the journalist spends an entire page of the article detailing your extensive history with your boss, and she said that she thinks you two are secretly an item.” Daisy is clearly enjoying this little tidbit. “This gives legitimacy to the shippers.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, Sebastian was very protective of you during the interview. And your name came up. A lot. She said there was a vibe.”
“A vibe?” Emma asks, looking around the room.
“A vibe,” Olivia confirms. “The magazine was released late yesterday, but excerpts of it are already all over social media and the news, especially the parts about you and Sebastian.”
“Plus, there’s the interview that Allegra Jameson gave, complaining that Sebastian didn’t get it up for her,” Daisy says with a sunny grin.
“She claims they never slept together in all the time they dated. The internet has many theories as to why that may be. One of those theories is that he’s been secretly in love with his assistant. ”
“I can’t believe Allegra was so indiscreet,” Olivia says.
“Well, I can’t believe Sebastian never slept with her, if what she’s saying is true,” Daisy shoots back.
I shrug, not giving a fuck what anyone thinks. All my attention is on Emma.
Her color is high, and she looks as if she wants to ask Daisy more questions about Allegra’s interview currently going viral, but instead, she turns to me. “If news of an engagement gets out and everyone believes it, the tabloids will be relentless.”
Guilt hits me. The last thing I wanted was to drag Emma even further into the chaos.
“I promise, Emma. I will protect you,” I vow.
“Do the doctors know when you’ll be good enough to go home?” Daisy asks.
“I can leave in a day or two if the rest of my tests come back fine.”
“The doctor said you’ll need someone to take care of you,” I point out. “And he said you have to take it easy. That it might take several weeks to fully heal—or longer.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Emma says tartly.
“We can take turns caring for her,” Olivia volunteers. “We’ll set up a schedule.”
“No one has to take care of me. You’re all busy, and I’m not having you change your plans.”
“What about your sister?” Daisy asks. “Since your dad’s out of the country, right?”
Emma nods. “He’s working in Africa. I haven’t told Sadie about being in the hospital.
She just started her new job in New York.
She’d insist on coming back, but I don’t need a babysitter.
I’ll be fine. Yes, I got a little careless.
Maybe I didn’t sleep as much as I could have.
Maybe I skipped a few meals. Maybe I haven’t prioritized my health.
But it’s no big deal. I just got a little unlucky that I passed out and hit my head. ”
“A little unlucky? What if you’d been driving when you went unconscious?” I growl.
“But I didn’t. Okay?”
“Someone needs to make sure you eat. And sleep. And relax. Who’s going to ensure you manage your blood sugar?”
When her doctor gave the litany of her symptoms and said the word diabetes, even with the word “pre” in front of it, I broke out in a cold sweat. Especially when Emma admitted it ran in her family.
My grandmother died of complications from diabetes. She’d always lived in the moment, never turned down a cocktail, and never managed her disease.
“I’ll take care of myself like I always do.”
“Emma, you focus so much on everyone else. But you also need to take care of yourself,” Daisy insists.
“You know the saying that the cobbler’s son has no shoes,” Olivia says.
“Ooh, I love shoe metaphors,” Daisy exclaims.
“The cobbler is always making shoes for everyone else, so she has no time to make them for her kids. That’s you, Emma,” Olivia explains. “You’re so busy taking care of everyone else and organizing their lives, you neglect your own.”
I realize Olivia is right. Guilt pierces my heart. I was part of the problem. It’s my fault Emma overworked herself. She’s basically been doing two full-time jobs ever since she put in her notice. I should have realized and insisted she slow down.
Now it’s too late. Now that she’s no longer in my employ, I can’t make sure she gets the proper rest. And she’ll continue to overwork herself to get her business positioned for success.
I know what I have to do. Emma will never ask anyone for help, not her friends or her family. So if I can’t use her status as my assistant to force her to take it easy, I’m going to use whatever is at my disposal.
“You know we’re right. You have to let us take care of you. So, who will it be?” Daisy asks just as a nurse shuffles into the room.
“It’s obvious. She’s my fiancée,” I say with absolute conviction. “So she’s coming home with me.”