Page 21 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Bernadette held out her hand, and the woman in white slipped her the cell phone. “Our associate, Angelique, is on the phone with a member of our investment group who chooses to remain anonymous.” She pressed the cell to her ear. “Oui?” She nodded as whoever was on the other end of the call spoke. The conversation was brief. Barely ten seconds had passed before she returned the phone to the ivory-clad associate.
Bernadette folded her hands on the table and shared a curious look with Claudette, who mirrored the position.
“You have a week, Sebastian Cress,” Bernadette announced.
“A week to . . .” He trailed off. He had no idea what she was talking about and sure as hell didn’t want to sound like an idiot or say something that would make him—again—sound like a male escort.
“A week to produce data or a case study. A before-and-after transformation, thanks to your life-coaching expertise,” Bernadette explained.
“That should not be a problem since your testing is in progress,oui?” Claudette quipped.
With the investors in black staring him down, he pictured his mother. This was his shot. She’d come to him in his sleep and had led him here. She’d want him to take this opportunity. She’d want him to be the man he was supposed to be. A week ago, he’d gotten her message loud and clear.
His heart pounded, but he maintained his composure. “It won’t be a problem at all.”
“Excellent!” Bernadette remarked with a wave of her hand. “My sister and I have a busy schedule over the next several days. We can meet when we return and evaluate your data.”
As if on cue, the Frenchman who’d led him to the meeting room opened the door.
“We’ll be in touch. Giles will see you out,” Claudette directed.
Holy shit!And there it was—the break he so desperately needed.
Sebastian nodded to Giles, then returned his attention to the sisters. “Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
The twins shared another curious look.
“Don’t thank us yet, Sebastian Cress,” Claudette answered with a twist to her lips.
She was right. Everything hinged on his ability to produce results. How the hell was he going to do that in a week?
“Right, I’ll have that case study polished up and ready for you to review.” With his thoughts swirling and his heart pounding, he left the room and followed Giles down the hallway.
The man glanced over his shoulder. “Your friend is here, Monsieur Cress.”
A friend?
The cyclone of questions and possible solutions ricocheting through Sebastian’s brain came to a crashing halt. “I’m not sure I understand. I’m not expecting anyone.”
Giles walked around his glass desk and took a seat. “Someone quite agitated, who calls themself your friend, entered the building looking for you. I told them you’d be out shortly.”
Who could it be?
Sebastian thanked the man, then opened the door and got his answer.
Oscar Elliott paced in front of the building. Sebastian had pinged him the address, but he hadn’t expected the guy to rush over. This, however, wasn’t a casual how-are-you-doing visit. With a cigarette hanging from Oscar’s lips, that meant one thing. Shit had hit the fan, and his best friend was stressed to the max.
“That’s a terrible habit,” Sebastian called, descending the trio of steps and trying to get a read on the guy.
Oscar exhaled a stream of smoke, then held up the cigarette. “I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d answer your damned phone.”
“I was in a meeting. And by the way, hello! It’s great to see you, old pal. It’s been a while,” Sebastian deadpanned. And then it hit. Oscar had to be there because of the negative press. “If you’re here because you read about me stealing a cab from a bunch of little tech-loving girls, rest assured it was a huge misunderstanding. I’d never—”
Oscar waved his hand and cut off his explanation. “I’m not here about that. We don’t have time to discuss that clusterfuck of a video.” His friend pointed to the scooter. “That’s Tula’s, right?”
Sebastian eyed the tiny mode of transportation. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
Oscar touched the sparkly handlebars. “Ivy has the same one. What are you doing with it?”
