Here I was having lunch with Sebastian at a fancy sushi restaurant in Beverly Hills. Who'd have thought this was going to be my life? Sure, it was a working lunch and not exactly a romantic lunch date I'd fantasized about for so many years, but it was nice and it would do.
Besides, he looked stunning, as always, sitting across from me. So much so, I caught myself staring far too long into his dreamy eyes at times, and had to remind myself to look away. I also caught myself looking around and noticing the glares of envy on the faces of some of the other women in the restaurant. I had to restrain myself from smirking and taunting them.
“So, about Bali,” I said, bringing up the trip we'd barely discussed since my interview, “How long do you think we'll be gone?”
“Five days, I expect,” he said, taking a long sip of his sake.
He'd ordered some for both of us, but mine sat untouched and I sipped from my glass of water. I still wasn't sure I should be drinking on a work lunch, especially when it was with Sebastian. My mouth could get me in trouble even when I was sober. I couldn't imagine the things I'd say with alcohol in my system.
“But we could always stay a few extra days to look around or enjoy the beach. If you want,” he added.
Of course, I wanted to, but the idea of taking a real vacation with Sebastian felt strange. It felt a little too personal. Besides, I knew it was never good to mix business with pleasure. That led to things getting complicated very quickly.
“Whatever you want, boss,” I said. “I'm just thankful for the opportunity to go at all.”
And I was. Oh God, I was. I'd always wanted to visit Bali, but never had a chance and honestly, never thought I would. And not only would we be visiting, we'd be flying via private jet. It just sounded so luxurious, I could hardly believe this was my life. It all felt so surreal.
“I'll make sure you enjoy it,” he said with a wink.
“I'm sure you will, Sebastian,” I said.
The silence between us was more than a little awkward, as if yet again, I'd managed to turn something innocent into something flirtatious. Not that I'd intended to – well, not really. I was so confused over my intentions. But deep down, I knew there was no way I could actually be with Sebastian. Even if he was a dreamboat and I admired the hell out of him, he was off-limits. Or rather, I was very much off-limits to him.
“So umm – this is one of your favorite places?” I asked, looking around the restaurant.
It was a high-end restaurant, the type of place you'd except celebs to frequent. And that's when my eyes fell on a familiar face. I nearly choked on my drink as soon as our eyes met.
“What is it?” Sebastian asked, but he didn't have to wait for my answer because Jessica marched over to us, her face red as she started yelling at us from across the room.
“How fucking dare you, Sebastian? Bringing another girl to our sushi place?” she screamed, scowling at me.
I took her outburst to mean she didn't recognize me. We'd met before, but she seemed like the type who wouldn't remember someone she considered beneath her unless it somehow benefited her, anyway.
Sebastian stood up, hands in the air in a surrender pose. “Listen, Jess, it's not like that. She's my assistant. ”
“Assistant? You never had a fucking assistant before,” Jessica said, standing across from Sebastian with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
Her black dress clung to her every curve, her cleavage was showing, almost too much so, and her blonde hair was in a high ponytail that flowed down her back. She towered over me at the table in her stilettos and I couldn't have felt more awkward if I'd tried.
Seriously, I could not understand what Sebastian had ever seen in her; not at all. But I guess he was a typical man, going for the hot blonde in the high heels and tight clothes. I looked down at my hands, trying to avoid the stares from other diners in the restaurant.
“Seriously, Sebastian? Our place? Our restaurant?” she fumed. “And you bring this little tramp.”
“Hey!” I said. “That's the pot calling the kettle black, Jessica.”
“How do you know my name?” she asked, staring down at me, her face a mask of rage.
“Because we've met before,” I said. “I'm Chuck Maddox's daughter.”
She looked momentarily stunned, but then picked up right where she'd left off. “Going after your buddies' daughters now? Like 'em young, do you?”
“Jess, if you'd just shut up long enough for us to explain, you'll see how ridiculous, and embarrassing, you're being. Not that I owe you an explanation or anything.”
“No, I guess you don't, asshole,” she said. She picked up a glass of water from the table and threw it in Sebastian's face. “And to think, I stopped by to reminisce about you and the good times we had. And I find you here with your jailbait little tramp in our place. What a fucking jerk.”
She started to turn and leave, tears in her eyes. And of course, everyone in the restaurant watched the show unfold. Surely, they thought the worst of us because it looked bad. Really bad. Sebastian sat back down, but my blood was boiling. No one had ever accused me of being a tramp before, and of all people to throw around such accusations, Jessica had no right.
“Jessica,” I called out, standing up and facing her.