“Thanks for the hot chocolate,” I said. I raised my cup to him. “Technically, I’m here to wait on you hand and foot, aren’t I?”
Sebastian’s only response was to glower and jerk his hand for me to follow. I sighed and followed him inside.
Reggie and Astaire were having some sort of writing nerd debate about semi-colons by the sink when we came in.
“...okay, sure,” Astaire said. “If you want to show how pretentious and stuffy you are, put one on every page for all I care. I’m just saying they’re snooty.”
“It’s punctuation,” Reggie said, sounding disgusted. “There’s a proper place to use a semicolon; I’m going to show I know exactly when that is in my writing.”
Astaire shrugged. “Because you’re snooty.”
He sputtered. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“If you want people to need to wear a tuxedo when they read your books, go ahead. Make it fancy.”
I grinned but followed Sebastian down the wood-paneled hall that led downstairs from the main level. It wasn’t a true basement, because more than half of the walls were open windows overlooking the valley view. There was even a private patio.
“I’m not sure why everybody passed on this room,” I said.
Sebastian gestured to the bed. “That’s yours. I’ll take the couch.”
I dipped my chin. “How gentlemanly of you.”
“We’ll be up at five. Writing by six.”
I chuckled. “Wait. I’m supposed to write on your schedule?”
“I’m not going up there to deal with those idiots any more than I have to,” he said. “And I didn’t bring you along so you could waste this opportunity, either. We’ll be writing by six,” he repeated.
“So which is it? Am I here to be your butler, or did you actually bring me so I could write? Because if it’s the second one, I’m about to accuse you of using that heart you claim to have set aside.”
“When I need you to do something, you’ll know it. But you’re working for me. That means you’ll write if I ask you to.”
I quirked an eyebrow. I would usually take issue with how bossy he was being, but I was more concerned with not screwing up my chance. I had two weeks to write, and from the sounds of it, he wasn’t even going to make me run errands. It had been a messy, backwards road to this moment, but I was here. So I shrugged and smiled. “Sounds like a plan. I just need to call Trinity and give her an update.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows lowered. “What do you see in that one?”
“Trinity? She’s my best friend.”
“She’s loud-mouthed, stubborn, and rude.”
“Yeah, did you realize people are like mirrors? If you go around being a raging asshole, you’re going to meet a lot of people who seem angry and cranky. Tell me, Sebastian,” I said, mockingly putting my fist under my chin in thought. “Do you meet a lot of angry people?”
His nostrils flared, but he relaxed his features, once again ignoring me. “Don’t take too long. I’m going to sleep now and I don’t need you keeping me up.”
Apparently he took his beauty sleep very seriously. I was on my way to the patio when I saw him stripping off his shirt from the corner of my eye. It took just about every ounce of self-control I had not to turn and stare, but through a superhuman effort, I kept my eyes forward. Except I could see his reflection in the glass. I stopped with my hand on the handle, acting like I was about to say something.
With the bright light in the room and the dark sky outside, the glass was practically a mirror. I could see every carved line of muscle on his body. I could even see that his eyes were on me while he stood, shirt still bunched up in his hand. I watched his eyes trail down from the back of my head to my ass. A little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You should know I snore,” I said after a few seconds had gone by.
“Seriously?” he asked.
“I have allergies, okay?” I said. I stole one last look at his disgustingly perfect body in the glass before I pushed the door open and went outside.
I called Trinity and waited. It was several hours later in North Carolina, so I knew I might catch her at work. They had to wake up at the crack of dawn to prep in most professional kitchens.
“Hey,” I said once she picked up.
“All I got was a text?” she demanded with no pleasantries. “Oh, hey, it’s your best friend. I’m flying across the country with the mad pickler. No big deal! Call you when I get there!” Trinity made some sputtering noises. I heard pots and pans clanging in the background, along with a heavily accented voice demanding she come back. Trinity snapped at the man, then a door closed and the background noise faded.