Page 26 of The Sebastian Guarantee
“Yes.”
Sebastian glanced inside the bustling bistro. “Who?”
“The person asked to remain anonymous.”
That was weird but welcomed.
“What about a tip?” Sebastian reached for his wallet.
The waiter waved him off. “That was taken care of as well. And . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Your friend—”
“Will be fine,” he assured the waiter. “I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s in good hands. I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”
The waiter glanced past him. “That might be easier said than done.”
“Why?”
“She just ran off toward the kids selling—”
“Cookies, Seb!” Phoebe called over her shoulder, tearing down the sidewalk with her foil-wrapped hot dog in one hand and a martini glass in the other.
Chapter6
SEBASTIAN
Sebastian stood there, gobsmacked, watching Phoebe get farther and farther from the bistro. He wasn’t sure he could believe his eyes. But one salient fact could not be denied. For a woman who had appeared to have nearly consumed her weight in martinis, she was damned quick on her feet.
And that meant he had to be damned faster to catch her.
He leaped over the low iron railing separating the outdoor eating area from the sidewalk and sprinted down the block. “Phoebe, hold up!” She was headed toward a group of girls seated at a table with stacks of boxes—presumably, the cookies. One girl held up a sign that read Tech Tweens Cookie Fundraisers.
Tech Tweens!
Panic tore through him. He’d have to be the last person they’d want to see.
He kicked up his speed. Running like his life depended on it—because it just might—he caught up to Phoebe. He hooked his arm around her waist and hoisted her into the air as the Tech Tweens looked their way.
“Sebastian Cress,” Phoebe squealed, “what are you doing?”
He was saving their asses from a little girl beatdown. That’s what he was doing.
Half a block away, the girls came together like a squad of computer-savvy Navy Seals.
“It’s him,” a blond girl cried.
Trapped, his heart hammered as he scanned the area. He spied a boutique. Surely, the kids wouldn’t follow them inside, would they?
He plastered on a grin. “Hey, Pheebs, let’s check out this shop.”
Tightening his hold on her, he swung open the door, and they crashed into the store. He’d barely recovered when a sharply dressed woman with blond hair sailed toward them.
“Welcome to Denver Diva Day and Night. Are you shopping for day or night apparel?” she pressed, staring down at them like it was normal for shoppers to dive into her store like stuntmen filming an action movie.
“Um . . .” he stammered. He had to play it cool. He needed to buy them some time. He looked back and forth, taking in the unique space. One side of the shop was painted white with an array of stylish women’s clothing, while the other side was jet-black with—holy hell—some damned hot lingerie.
