Mr Garcia

I stand and walk down the stairs. Sebastian glances up and sees me, his face falls.

Bart looks up, startled, and he frowns. “April?” I give him an awkward smile, and his eyes flicker to Sebastian in question. His eyes come back to me. “What happened to you?”

“I had an altercation with a kitchen countertop,” I say. “There is something you should know, Bart.”

Bart raises his eyebrow, already knowing what it is and seemingly unimpressed. “Go on…”

“I was here when Helena broke in. She didn’t know who I was, and I pretended to be the cleaner.”

He exhales heavily.

“I chased her, tripped and hit the kitchen counter. I ended up in hospital. The police are coming over this afternoon for questioning.”

He puts his hands in his suit pockets, and his eyes drift to Sebastian for clarification.

I glance over to see Sebastian is glaring at me with a thermonuclear anger.

Huh?

“Do you have something to tell me?” Bart asks, looking between us.

Sebastian twists his lips, and his unimpressed eyes hold mine.

“Yes,” I reply. “I’ve been seeing Sebastian on a personal level for a while. We met years ago and have recently reconnected.” I shrug nervously. “We are… together.”

“You didn’t think to tell me this before you started?” he snaps.

“With due respect, I didn’t realize we would be working with Sebastian.” My eyes flicker between the two of them. “I’m resigning from your team, effective immediately. I’m going back to my normal duties.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenches as he glares at me. “You don’t need to resign.”

“Yes, she does,” Bart interrupts. “You think I need this publicity nightmare? The Deputy Prime Minister is sleeping with his legal counsel. For fuck’s sake, what are you two thinking?” He sighs. “I should have been told.”

“I’m telling you now,” I hit back. “And for the record, we are dating, so you need to get over it and handle Helena.”

“I’m really disappointed, April. I didn’t think you were the type to sleep with a client. This will not look good on your resume.”

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Sebastian barks. “She isn’t sleeping with a client. You heard her. We’re together. And she’s right! You just fucking worry about Helena.”

I bite my lip to hide my smile. Hope runs through me.

“What am I supposed to say when the story breaks about you two?” he retorts.

“There is no story,” I reply sharply. “I don’t work for him now. I’m just a regular lawyer that he’s dating. There is no headline story here anymore, Bart. What you need to work out is what the hell Helena took from this house.”

“Are you really going to give up the opportunity of a lifetime?” Bart asks me.

“I would give up any job on Earth to be with him.” My eyes find Sebastian’s, and his brow furrows.

It’s true, I would.

I have.

“Fine.” Bart rolls his eyes and makes for the door. “I’ll be in touch.” The door slams on his way out.

“Are you serious?” Sebastian growls.

Huh? He's angry?

My face falls.

“How dare you?” He turns and marches into the kitchen. I run after him like a puppy.

“W-what do you mean?” I stammer.

“You didn’t think to discuss this with me before you blurt it out to the fucking world?”

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.

“Is this your master plan?” he yells. “Railroad me into a relationship?”

“What?”

“We have never discussed coming out about us. And you resigned from your fucking job. What the hell was that?” he cries. “Are you deaf, dumb, or just plain stupid?”

My eyes bulge as I put my hands on my hips. “Listen here, you asshole,” I growl. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I will tell my boss the truth. And for the record, we are in a fucking relationship, so you’d better grow the fuck up and appreciate it.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’ll see what fucking happens, that’s what?”

“Do not threaten me, April.”

“I’m sick of your childish bullshit, Sebastian.” I turn and march toward the stairs, and he follows me like a bull.

“What does that mean?”

I turn on him like the devil. “It means that you had better man up. Grow some balls and let yourself love me, or step the fuck back so that someone else can.”

He narrows his eyes. “Another threat?”

“That one’s a promise, asshole.”

“Stop calling me asshole.”

“Then stop acting like one!” I yell back. I take the stairs two at a time.

“You may as well go home!” he cries after me. “I will not be railroaded into anything, April. What next? You demand I marry you?”

My anger explodes.

I get to the top of the stairs and see his runners sitting in the hall. I pick one up and hurl it down at him. He ducks out of the way, deflecting it to the side. It hits the wall with a thud. “I’ll go home when I’m good and ready and not a minute before!” I shout. Nobody makes me angrier than this fucking stupid man.