Mr Garcia

I hate that the world doesn’t get to see the real him, but I know that this is how he is.

Guarded.

I smile softly, hoping that he can feel my affection for him. He has the worst week coming up, and nobody can help him through it. He and he alone will face the press. It is his voice that everyone will turn to for guidance in such uncertain times.

The doors are opened, and the cabin crew and pilot shake Sebastian’s hand as they stand by the door.

“Thank you.” He nods.

I smile and follow him down the stairs, hanging back a little, unsure where I am supposed to be. Sebastian stops and turns back. He holds his hand out to me.

I frown at him. He wants to be seen together? He’s usually so private.

“Are you coming?” he asks, hand outstretched.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

I take his hand, and my heart begins to hammer. This is it. The announcement of our relationship.

The doorman opens the door, and we walk into the airport.

Cameras flash. People run.

“Mr. Garcia, is it true that the Prime Minister is dead?” someone calls.

Sebastian exhales and pulls me along quickly.

“Is this your new wife, Mr. Garcia? Have you been on a honeymoon?”

Sebastian rolls his lips, unimpressed as we march along.

“What is your name, Miss?” Someone yells. “What does your ex-wife think of your new girlfriend?”

What?

Sebastian stops and turns back to the man who called it out. He glares at him. The man takes a step back, unsure of the consequences. Sebastian’s chest rises and falls, and I know it’s taking all his strength not to smack the man in the mouth. I give Sebastian’s hand a subtle tug, and he turns back to me. We start walking toward the exit to where our car is waiting.

“When are you having a press conference?” someone calls.

We walk out through the front doors, cameras still flashing. We arrive at the waiting black car.

God, this really is horrendous.

I drag my hand through my hair. What must I look like?

Sebastian opens the back door of the SUV, and I slide in. He closes the door behind me.

What?

I peer out of the tinted windows to see that he is doing, speaking with the photographers. His face is angry, and whatever he is saying, they are all taking notes.

He turns and gets into the car beside me. He slams the door.

“Drive!” he orders.

“Yes, sir.”

The car pulls out into the street.

I turn and look out the rear window to see the camera flashes disappearing into the distance.

I turn back to the face forward, my heart still hammering in my chest.

I glance over to see Sebastian’s elbow resting on the car door, his hand on his temple. He’s staring out at the passing traffic, miles away.

Poor Theodore.

Good morning babe.

Wishing you luck for today xoxo

A text bounce’s back from him.

Missed you this morning.

I didn’t want to wake you.

Call you later.

Love you

xo

I smile. Love you. Two little words that mean so much. I get up and shower, make my way downstairs, and I turn on the television.

I make myself some coffee and toast, and then I hear the headline on the news.

“A press conference has been called by Sebastian Garcia and is scheduled for today at 11:00 a.m. Mr. Garcia, who flew in from the Maldives last night with his partner April Bennet, is in damage control amidst allegations that the Prime Minister has passed away.”

I stare at the television. There’s footage of us walking hand in hand out of the airport last night, and people firing questions at Sebastian.

I drop to the couch. Shit.

My phone beeps with a text. It’s Jeremy.

Oh my God, we need to have lunch today.

I have so much to tell you.

My God, we do. I have so much to tell him. I spoke to him only briefly last week. He was still waiting for the blood tests to see if Bart had been drugged or not. I wonder what the hell is going on with those two. I reply:

Sounds great.

I smile and wave when I arrive at the restaurant.

Jeremy is sitting at the back with two cups of coffee already on the table.

“Hello, gorgeous.” He smiles broadly.

I kiss his cheek. “Hello. It’s so good to see you.” I sit down. “Is this my coffee?”

“Yes.” He winks. “Just as you like it, although I would have preferred wine. I took the liberty of ordering us lunch. I knew you would have to get back.”

I reach over and takes his hand in mine. “Oh my God, what’s happening? Every time I call you, Bart is there and you can’t speak?”

Jeremy rolls his eyes in an over exaggerated way. “That fucking bitch drugged him and set him up with those hookers.”

“Who?” I screw up my face.

“His wife.”

“Why, though?”

“To break us up. She’s had her suspicions about us for a while now. He hasn’t been sleeping with her so she’s presuming that he’s sleeping with me.”