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Blackest Red Page 3
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Page 3
I don’t know if it’s Sebastian’s domineering bearing or the way he carries his six-four height, but I’ve noticed people glancing his way and whispering. They wonder who the striking man is. Their gazes are drawn to him, the women’s raking over him with devouring eyes, and the men’s with covetous scowls. He commands attention even when he’s trying to blend into the background. I barely resist rolling my eyes when yet another woman approaches him. It would be almost comical to watch if it didn’t make me grind my teeth. This time I look away.
My gaze settles on Cass who’s standing very close to Clive across the room. She sees me looking at her and gives me a cheesy grin and a thumbs up while he’s signing a woman’s book. Once he’s done, Cass says something, and when he touches my roomie’s lower back as he bends close to hear what she’s saying, I smile. No introduction necessary.
“Congratulations, Talia.” A familiar voice to my right draws my attention.
Nathan tucks his hands in his pants’ pockets. This suit looks far more expensive than the ones I remember. Apparently he’s upgraded. “Thank you, Nathan. I appreciate you coming to support me.”
He nods. “Though I’ll admit to be glad it’s almost over. Now that you’re finished with the Sly Fox club piece, you should be back to normal working hours. I’ve missed working together.”
“What’s this about the Sly Fox club?” Jared turns his attention to Nathan as his assistant draws the gaggle of newspaper and magazine people away. “I’m Jared Mackens. And you are?”
Nathan puts out his hand. “Nathan Brentford. Talia and I work together at the Tribune.” Rocking on his heels, Nathan nods. “She didn’t tell you about her stint as a stripper…”
When he stops there and leaves the rest hanging, Jared raises an eyebrow and looks at me with a new light in his eyes. “Really? A stripper, Natalia?”
“Yeah, she went by Simone,” Nathan says, grinning.
I put my hands up before Nathan can dangle the juicy tidbit any longer. “Enough, Nathan. Tell him the rest.”
Chuckling, Nathan continues, pride reflected in his brown eyes. “While she wrote two books for your publishing house, Talia also worked undercover at a strip joint where she helped shut down a human trafficking ring.”
“Wow, that’s pretty gutsy,” Jared says, though his enthusiasm doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad you were successful, but I’m equally glad I didn’t know.”
I smirk and translate for Nathan. “Jared’s all about protecting Midtown Central’s investment. Getting caught might’ve put a wrench in my tight deadlines.”
Nathan frowns at my joke, then cuts his gaze to Jared. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
Pulling his brows together, Jared clasps my hand. “I meant that I would’ve been worried for your safety.”
My phone buzzes in my clutch purse, saving me from responding. I look up to see Cass standing by the doorway. When my gaze locks with hers, she mouths, “Bathroom.”
I nod and quickly excuse myself from the guys, then weave my way through the crowd and dodge past a waiter carrying a platter of mini éclairs, then almost run into a blonde waitress holding a tray filled with glasses of complimentary wine.
“Excuse me,” I mumble to the wide-eyed girl in the process of righting her tray.
I exhale a sigh of relief once I exit through the doors into the quiet hall.
Cass is applying a new coat of lipstick when I walk into the bathroom. “You looked like you needed rescuing,” she addresses my reflection in the long vanity mirror, before smacking her lips together.
I sigh and lean against the counter, thankful for the reprieve. The last thing I want to talk about is how awkward it felt standing between my ex-boyfriend, who still thinks we’ll get back together, and the other guy who hopes I’ll finally say “yes” to his dinner requests. “The air felt thick around me, that’s for sure. How are things going with Clive?” I tease.
“Very well!” Cass finger combs her hair, teasing it at the scalp to give it some lift. “That’s one of the reasons I called you in here. I’m going to the bar for drinks with him after the event, so it’ll be late when I get back to the room.”
“Don’t forget you have an eight am flight tomorrow.”
“I won’t forget. Why do you think I brought my cameras with me? It’ll save me time in the morning.” Pausing, she faces me. “Then again, set your alarm for five-thirty just to make sure I get up.”
“Five-thirty? You don’t need to get up that early.”
“Oh, yes, I do. That way I’ll have time to grill you about why you didn’t tell me who your bodyguard was.”
When I open my mouth to argue, she holds up her hand. “As much as I want to give you hell about it, I can’t right now. Clive is waiting for me. He wants to introduce me to some of the other authors.”
I grin, folding my arms. “Looks like you found a perfect source to help feed your fangirl needs.”
“Don’t you know it!” Laughing, she steps close, her expression turning serious. “Are you okay with this man having your back? I got the feeling he had really hurt you or something.”
I shake my head. “It’s more the ‘or something’ part. He’s a good man, bluntly honest to a fault and protective of people he’s close to. I guess the simplest way to put it is that we want different things in a relationship.”
Cass touches the pearl on my chest, then meets my gaze. “Sometimes the heart doesn’t know how to say what it really wants, Talia. That’s when actions really do speak louder than words.”
I give a half-smile and hook my finger with hers, lifting it off my chest. “How’d you get so philosophical?”
She squeezes my finger and snickers. “What else am I going to do on all those long plane flights but take quizzes in magazines others have left behind. I can psychoanalyze the shit out of just about anyone now.” When I laugh, she continues. “You’ve got two handsome men out there, one vying for your attention and the other who seems to hold it. There’s nothing that says you have to decide right away. Right now the odds are in your favor, and personally, I like having options.”
“Spoken from a girl who has one guy sneaking out her window while the other one is knocking at the door.”
“To be fair, that only happened once,” she says on a pout. Cass hugs me, then wags her finger as she starts to walk away. “Now remember to set your alarm.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ll make sure you get up in time. Have fun with Clive.”
After I use the facilities, I’m drying my hands on a paper towel when I hear my phone go off with another text.
Curious why Cass would be texting me already, I pull up the message as I walk out of the bathroom.
PainInMyAss: Never leave the room again without telling me.
I stop walking when I see Sebastian leaning against the wall outside the bathroom, his arms crossed, a deep scowl on his face.
“Sorry, I’m not used to having to report my whereabouts,” I say, dropping my phone into my purse before snapping it shut. “I just had to use the ladies’ room.”
Sebastian pushes off the wall and steps into my personal space, scowling. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about the break-in at your apartment?”
I take a step back and frown. “The police have already taken care of it. It’s done.”
“Done?” An incredulous look crosses his face. “That break-in just made the threat on you personal. How can you not see that?”
I stiffen my spine. “It’s probably not even related to the letters Midtown Central received—”
“That’s for me to rule out,” he cuts me off. “What was the officer’s name you spoke to?”
I blink at him. “How do you even know about the break-in?”
“Cass just told me. It’s good you’re staying at the hotel this week. I would’ve insisted on it anyway. His name, Natalia.”
Natalia? It ticks me off that he’s now calling me by my formal name and putting emphasis on it. Is he mocking J
ared? “That’s Miss Lone to you, Mr. Black” I reply, then walk back toward the ballroom.
“His name,” Sebastian demands in a low tone a couple steps behind me.
“Officer James Hogan,” I say over my shoulder and keep on walking.
When I get back, I mingle on my own for a good half hour, then Jared walks me around, introducing me to so many authors and editors from Midtown Central that I lose track of their names. Then we move on to the highlight of my evening; a receiving line of sorts, where I get to meet the reviewers who have already read Blindside and want me to sign their copies.
As each person approaches, Jared introduces them, telling me which industry magazine, newspaper or bookstore they work for. While signing each book, I take the time to chat with the person, thanking him or her for their review. Once I sign the last reviewer’s book and she wanders off to talk with another author, Jared looks at me.
“Would you like a drink now? I sure could use one.”
I stare into his green eyes. He has seemed a bit off. I can’t really put my finger on when his demeanor shifted, but I sense it. “Is everything okay?” When his mouth twitches in a subtle tightening, I frown. “What’s wrong?”
He slides his hands into his pants’ pockets and rolls his head from one shoulder to the other. He appears to be stretching his neck, but I know what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to voice what’s bothering him.
“Jared, if we’re going to work together, you need to say what’s on your mind.”
He glances my way, clearly needing to get the hundred pound gorilla off his chest.
“What is it?” I keep my voice calm even though I want to shake the answer out of him.
He releases a slow breath. “The whole stripper thing was interesting in an edgy, dangerous sort of way, but to find out you used to deal drugs when you were younger does make me wonder if you did them too. Did you, Natalia?”
The blood drains from my face, then heat instantly shoots up my cheeks, tingling all the way to my scalp. It takes major effort to keep my expression perfectly composed. “Are you asking me as the man who asked me on a date just yesterday, or as the assistant editor of Midtown Central?”
His eyes widen slightly. Apparently my question throws him. “I’m not judging you. There’s just so much I don’t know about you…and I’d like to.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you were completely judging me.”
“That’s not it, Natalia, I—”
“Actually—” I hold my hand up to stop him. “I will take that drink now. A glass of Chablis.”
Jared opens his mouth, then closes it. “I’ll be right back.”
The second he walks away, my hands shake while I quickly send a text message to Sebastian.
Me: Hallway. Now.
Across the room, I see him pull his cell out of his pants’ pocket.
PainInMyAss: Is that code for another bathroom break?
Me: You’re fired.
As soon as I hit send, he jerks his dark head up and narrows his gaze.
Sebastian meets me in the hall, but doesn’t stop. Instead, he grips my elbow and escorts me across the hall into another ballroom.
Once the door closes behind us, shrouding us in the dim glow of the low lights above, I jerk my arm from his grasp and step back from his imposing height.
Sebastian moves in front of the door and crosses his arms. “Tell me, Miss Lone, what exactly am I being fired for?”
I hold his suspicious gaze with a determined one. “I don’t want someone watching my back that I can’t trust.”
He lowers his arms, his expression changing from annoyed to full-out pissed. “What the hell are you talking about? How have I betrayed your trust?”
“You are the only one who knows about my past. The only person I’ve told that I got pulled into the drug dealing business when I was a teen. Jared just asked me about it. I swear the guy stopped short of asking if I’m a recovering addict.”
His tone shifts to icy sarcasm. “Are you worried your lover’s sensibilities might be offended at the possibility?”
My back goes ramrod straight even as my heart sinks. “That’s none of your business. Why did you tell him? What were you hoping to accomplish?”
Sebastian slices his hand toward the ground, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “I haven’t said anything to that pompous prick. And the fact that you’d think I would betray your confidence is fucking insulting as hell. You should know me better than that.”
I did. Or at least I thought I did. The moment Jared asked me about it, I was more upset at the idea Sebastian would divulge something I’d told him in confidence than what Jared thought of me. Just when I start to apologize, Sebastian continues in a less forceful tone, “I might be the only one you told, but I’m obviously not the only one who knows.”
As my mind tries to wrap around who else could possibly know, my phone buzzes in my purse.
Sebastian crosses his arms once more and leans against the door. “Now that you’re no longer out for my blood, why don’t you share what prompted you to tell your boyfriend about our past tonight? Was your goal to discredit me?”
“Stop calling Jared my boyfriend,” I snap while trying to ignore the realization Jared now knows about Sebastian and me. Ugh. Even though I didn’t write about any romance between the pilot, Aaron White, and my main character, Sophia, in my book, every reviewer who read Blindside commented on their great chemistry tonight. No wonder Jared acted so out-of-sorts. “I’m not the one who told Jared you’re the pilot in Blindside. Obviously someone else did.”
His brow furrows. “No one else knows but us.”
We stare at each other in thought for a couple seconds, and just as my phone buzzes again, realization hits.
“Nathan!” We both spit his name like a curse.
While I set my jaw at my ex-boyfriend’s attempt to put a wedge in my working relationship with Jared—Nathan must’ve seen Sebastian follow me out of the ballroom earlier—Sebastian’s gaze slices into me with determined precision.
“For the record, you can’t fire me. My contract is with Midtown Central Publishing, not you. I will fulfill it, even with your boyfriend’s bullshit addendum.”
I ignore the boyfriend comment this time, knowing he’s saying it to rile me. “What addendum?”
Sebastian pulls out his phone and turns it for me to read a new document with today’s date and his company signature at the bottom: BLACK Security.
Addendum A: In the best interest of the client’s safety and well-being, the contracted bodyguard is prohibited from any form of fraternization or BLACK Security’s services will be immediately terminated.
I meet Sebastian’s gaze, completely conflicted in my amusement and annoyance. “I can’t freaking believe he did that. He totally cock—”
“Don’t say it—” Sebastian cuts me off, his features darkening.
“—blocked you,” I finish with a snicker.
“You’re enjoying this too fucking much,” he grates out, clearly irritated.
“I doubt you’ve remained celibate these past six months. Maybe some non-fraternization time will help sharpen your ‘personal security’ skills.”
His gaze slits. “My skills are always on point, Miss Lone. Rest assured.”
My phone buzzes yet again, and this time I retrieve it from my purse. Great. Three texts in a row from Jared.
Jared: Where are you?
Jared: I’m getting worried.
Jared: I’m going to fire that overgrown bodyguard.
Glancing up at Sebastian, I say, “I don’t appreciate Jared meddling, but Midtown Central is footing the bill. Plus, isn’t a fraternization policy a standard clause in most personal security contracts?”
“Only when guarding government officials.”
As soon as he finishes speaking, Sebastian’s gaze holds mine for several seconds, then slowly lowers to my chest. As the tension grows thick between us, I work to keep my breathing even. I know
he’s looking at the necklace, thinking about our time together.
When his gaze snags mine, hot lust smolders in the blue depths. I can read it in his eyes; he’s mentally tracing his tongue along the necklace, kissing his way to the pearl and my cleavage beyond. I can’t let him draw me in again. I want more than he’s ever going to give. Flushing with heat from my own imaginative thoughts, I adopt a lighthearted tone to diffuse the palpable chemistry sparking between us. “Thank you for the gift. You give good rainbow, Mr Black.”
“I give the fucking best rainbow, Miss Lone,” he says in a low, taut tone.
My comment had been my way of acknowledging the deeper meaning behind the pearl, but the rough rumble in his voice and aroused intensity in his stare tells me he meant something else entirely.
He takes a step closer and my stomach turns upside down. I don’t move, but my fingers cinch around the phone so tight I can feel my pulse throbbing along my fingertips against the cool metal.
Another step and the tips of his shoes almost touch mine. Just as I look up at him, the phone buzzes again, instantly jarring me back to reality.
I exhale a shaky breath and turn the text screen toward Sebastian, holding it between us like a protective shield. “We need to get back so he doesn’t fire your overgrown ass.”
After I get back to the ballroom, Jared never says a word about Sebastian. As a matter of fact, once I murmur that I was in the restroom, sheer relief scrolls across his face. Like he’s genuinely worried for me. Clasping my hand, he leads me over to meet his dark-haired assistant who had helped him out with scheduling earlier.
“Natalia, I’d like you to meet Kayla. We’ve assigned her as your handler. She will attend all of the functions with you this week. Her job is to assist you in any way she can, from getting you coffee, water, food, to making sure that your signing table is set up the way it should be. She’ll open books to the right page, take the pictures of you with fans and make sure readers abide by the one book per customer parameters we’ve set. Trust me, your hand will be glad we instituted that rule. That way everything will run smoothly.”