Page 37 of The Sebastian Guarantee
All for you.
He was talking about the clothes, but did she want him to be talking about himself? Did she want all of him? Goose bumps rose on her skin. She blinked, snapping out of it. Holy don’t-think-of-your-best-friend-like-that. Could she still be drunk? Pushing aside the crazy thought, she turned on her heel. There had to be a catch.
She pegged Sebastian with her gaze. “Boutique owners don’t show up and gift people an entire wardrobe.”
His crooked half-grin returned. “This is part of the Sebastian Guarantee. I believe you called itupgraded skin.”
“I don’t owe them a kidney, do I? They didn’t already take it, did they?” She started to undo the knot on the trench’s belt to see if a jagged line of Frankenstein monster stitches adorned her abdomen, but Sebastian stopped her. He rested his hands on hers, and she inhaled sharply.
What did those martinis do to her?
Sebastian took a step back and broke their connection. “You don’t owe them anything. I agreed to give them some publicity on my socials, and in return, they comped the clothes. That’s how you ended up with the trench coat, and,” Sebastian glanced away, “what’s beneath it.” He pulled at the collar of his button-up. “Janelle gave me her card last night and said to reach out if you needed anything else.”
“I hadn’t put it together.” Phoebe took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes as she recalled bolting out of the boutique without paying a cent.
“This morning, I went online to check the itinerary for LETIS. It was somewhat vague, probably by design, but they did reveal that there’s a cocktail event tonight, then some outdoor activities, and a fancy dinner. I called Janelle and asked if she could hook you up with some outfits for a retreat at a posh Colorado lodge. I told them I’d be happy to tag them in more posts in exchange.”
Every muscle in her body tensed. “LETIS! I can’t believe I forgot about it. It starts this evening. I RSVP’d, but I haven’t even checked my email to get more info on location and lodging.”
Sebastian dusted off his shoulders.
This man.
“I took care of that, too. It’s being held at the Glenn Pines Lodge a few hours northwest of Denver,” he replied as his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket.
“What happened to your phone?” she asked, taking in the cracked screen. Then she read the caller info.Ivy Elliot’s Super-Secret Spy Phone.“Why is Ivy calling you with . . .”
“The burner phone you bought her?” Sebastian supplied.
“I wouldn’t buy eight-year-olds burner phones. Tula and Ivy wanted to ride their kick scooters to school. Your parents and Mitch and Charlotte wanted the girls to have phones with them and asked me to help the kids pick them out. I suggested they let the girls play secret spies like we used to before they let on that they knew about the new phones.”
“The girls think it’s their little secret.”
She sighed. “Our whole foot tap language was our secret. It inspires creativity and closeness. I love that my aunt Penny taught me the tap trick, and then I taught it to you, Oscar, and Aria. It’s harmless.”
Sebastian narrowed his gaze. “You’re okay with secrets?”
“I guess, if you’re focused on semantics, you could call the phones safe non-secrets,” she countered, then chewed her lip.
“What is it?”
“You better answer the call. The girls might need something. I thought Mitch, Charlotte, and Ivy were leaving this morning to join your family in Rickety Rock for the rest of their break-break, back-to-nature week.”
Sebastian’s cocksure demeanor waned. “I have an idea why Ivy and Tula might be breaking the rules to call.”
She watched the man. “Why?”
“They saw something online—something terrible that . . .”
“That what?” she pressed.
He bowed his head, and his shoulders curled in around his chest. “Something terrible that I’m at fault for. And it’s bad, Phoebe. It’s really bad.”
Chapter8
PHOEBE
Phoebe pegged her best friend with her gaze as a prickling sensation took over. “Sebastian, what happened? What could you have done that’s so terrible?”
