Page 35 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Heat rose to her cheeks, but she wasn’t blushing because she was embarrassed. She was amped up. Endorphins flooded her system. Oh, how she’d missed this over the last six months—the back and forth, the playfulness, the challenge of going toe to toe with her best friend. And speaking of toes, she peered down at her fuzzy-sock-clad feet and lifted her left foot.
Sebastian zeroed in on the floor action. “If you’re about to tap out what I think you’re about to tap out, I’m making you drink two green smoothies.” Mischief danced in his eyes. It couldn’t be denied—he enjoyed butting heads with her, too.
She looked from her foot to the murky green drink, then lowered her foot.
“That’s what I thought,” he purred with a deliciously arrogant grin in place as he handed her the glass. “Drink up, hot dog fairy princess. Let’s get some food into you that doesn’t have a shelf life of ten thousand years.”
She held up the glass. “What is this, really?”
“It’s a Greek yogurt smoothie with spinach, kale, cucumbers, chia seeds, and a spritz of fresh lemon juice.”
She tilted the glass from side to side and grimaced as the contents oozed around. “Can I have a moss and toad piss smoothie instead?”
“No,” he barked, “and may I remind you that you agreed to follow my instructions precisely.”
“Bossy Brit,” she mumbled as she sniffed the concoction.
“Bloody right about that, lass,” he quipped in his dad’s loose, rollicking accent. “We’re doing this properly, not getting it cocked up on day one, aren’t we?”
What had gotten into this man?
“You’re wired,” she remarked, then noticed a slim pocket notebook with a pen sticking out of the spiral on the ground near the end of the bed. “What’sNew Data?” she asked, reading the words printed on the cover in Sebastian’s handwriting.
“It’s nothing,” he answered like the wind had been knocked out of his sails. “My phone’s a little banged up. It’s easier to jot down notes I’d like to share with the investment group who showed an interest in funding my life-coaching business. Don’t even worry about it. Like I said, it’s just work.” He plucked the pad off the floor and stuffed it into his pack.
Now she was the one sporting a confused expression. “Are you okay?”
He waved her off. “Yeah, of course.”
“How long have you been up?” she asked, switching gears as she rolled her head from side to side, attempting to jumpstart her brain. After last night, it would take a lot more than green glop to wake her up. Maybe she could borrow some of his get-up-and-go energy.
Sebastian’s troubled air disappeared, and the spark returned to his gaze. “I got up early to make some calls, then I borrowed your car. I went to my place to grab a few things. After that, I hit the market to purchase the healthy items for your breakfast smoothie.” He checked his watch. “Which is looking more like a brunch smoothie. And,” he glanced over his shoulder, “while you drink that, I’d like you to say hello to our guest.”
Her heart nearly stopped. “Someone is here?” She’d heard him talking but thought he was on a call.
“Mara’s here.”
Mara?Had he brought a woman back to her place?
He had been cavorting around the world, banging whatever beautiful woman drifted into his orbit. He probably metMaraat the grocery store. She must have batted her eyelashes at him across a crate of cantaloupes. Had the two of them got it on in her apartment?
“Pheebs?”
“Am I supposed to know who this Mara is?” she asked with a distinct edge to her tone, when a movement beyond Sebastian’s shoulder caught her eye.
An impeccably dressed woman with an asymmetrical platinum bob strode down the hallway and stood next to Sebastian in the doorway. “I’m Mara. You met my wife, Janelle, last night.”
Janelle?
Phoebe chewed her lip. “I’m sorry, I can’t place you, and I don’t think I know anyone named Janelle. Yesterday is a bit of a blur for me.”
“Janelle helped you in the dressing room,” Sebastian explained. “She and Mara own the clothing store Denver Diva Day and Night.”
Phoebe exhaled a frantic breath. “Oh, thank God.” She paused and grinned vacantly at the woman. That was all well and good, but why on earth would the wife of a lady who helped her in a dressing room show up at her apartment?
Mara slipped her cell phone from her pocket. “Look at the time. I should be getting back to the store. But first, I need you to approve a few things, Phoebe.”
Phoebe’s gaze ping-ponged between her best friend and Mara. “My approval?”
