Page 44 of The Sebastian Guarantee
Her pulse quickened. “If you can’t tell me why you did a complete one-eighty with your life, can you tell me what brought you back? Is that complicated, too?”
His features softened as warmth returned to his expression. “My mum and . . .”
“Your mom?” she repeated, not meaning to cut him off, but she wasn’t expecting that to be the reason.
“I had a dream about her. She spoke to me, and when I woke up and looked at my phone to see what time it was, I noticed the date. It was the day after her birthday. Between the partying, drinking, and the revolving door of women, I’d forgotten it.”
She squeezed his hand but remained quiet, giving him space to continue.
“I should have realized something was up. My dad called several times that day. I blew him off. I didn’t even listen to his messages. I figured it was more of him telling me to stop ‘faffing around like a right git,’” he said, reciting the last part in his father’s accent. A sad smile graced his lips. “My dad and I would always go out for fish and chips, my mum’s favorite, on her birthday. It was a sacred date. When I was away at school or for work, we’d do a video chat and eat together. My dad always accommodated my schedule. Sometimes, he’d be eating fish and chips for breakfast or in the middle of the night. And we’d talk. We’d always begin by talking about something we remembered about Mum, but then the conversation would shift.” He sighed, the puff of air a mix of hope and longing. “Those were some of our best conversations. It was where I started talking to my dad about leaving the business and branching out on my own. My dad was so supportive, and I got the strangest feeling my mum was with us, too—quietly there, encouraging me.”
“I remember your fish and chips dates with your dad,” she said, allowing herself to drift back in time. “He used to take you out of school for lunch if her birthday fell during the week.” She glanced away. “I always envied you.”
Her hand still clasped in his, he stroked the sensitive skin on the back of her wrist. “Why is that?”
She focused on his eyes—blue-green like the open sea. “Because you’d come back bright-eyed and beaming, telling me, Oscar, and Aria some sweet story about your mom or some project you and your dad had decided to do together.”
“Why’d you envy that?”
She glanced at the photo next to the coffee beans, then traced an invisible line on the table with her index finger. “I was so young when my parents died. All I have of them is flashes. I’ve had to rely on the stories people have told me about them. Those have become my memories. When you’d talk about your mom, your descriptions were so vivid. I could see her in my mind. While I listened to you talk, I used to picture myself in those moments—like I’d been an honorary Cress, munching away on fish and chips.”
Sebastian shifted the chair so they could be face-to-face. With her knees between his powerful legs, he took both her hands in his. “Phoebe, I’m so sorry I haven’t been a good friend these last six months. I’ve been selfish and distant.” He exhaled a pained breath. “I read that text, and in that instant, nothing made sense. I lost my way.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What text? Was it from your dad?”
He swallowed hard. “What matters is that I’m back, and I can make up for being a royal plonker by helping you become Phoebe 2.0. I’ll be by your side at LETIS, coaching you through every encounter.”
That hopeful love seed in her chest soaked in his words like a flower opening to the sun. She was grateful to have him back, but she couldn’t monopolize his time. “What about your business, Seb? You said that you met with a potential investor yesterday. But a potential investor is far from a done deal. Don’t you need to be prepared to pitch to investors if that opportunity falls through?”
“You’re my priority, Phoebe. Don’t worry about me. I know what I’m doing.”
He sounded like he cared, but she could have sworn she detected a thread of trepidation. It could be nerves, though. Both of their emotions had been running high for the last twenty-four hours.
She pushed aside her worries. “You are the bestfrienda girl could ask for.” She meant it, but something about the statement didn’t ring true.
“All right,” he said, releasing her hands and rubbing his together like a mad scientist. “Let’s get started. There’s no time like the present. What are your goals for LETIS?”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shouldn’t I shower first? Thanks to the martinis, I probably smell like day-old olives. And then I need to pack. We should probably get a move-on if we want to make it to the resort. I’ll need time to get ready for the cocktail party tonight.”
“You can shower after we talk. This is important. We need to set the foundation for your transformation. It won’t take long.” He glanced at his cell. “Do you mind if I record this conversation? Once I transfer the information to my notes, I’ll delete the recording.”
She stared at his phone. “Okay.”
He tapped his cell’s screen a few times, then returned to her. “I want you to focus, Phoebe. I’ll ask you a couple of questions, and I’d like you to say the first thing that comes to mind.”
She nodded.
“What’s your goal for LETIS?”
“To secure funding for Go Girl.” She chewed her lip. “I’d be coming in stronger if I had an organization already pledging to be a part of the community, but I can’t let that stop me.”
“Optimism is good,” he agreed. “Focus on what you can deliver, not on what you’re lacking. Now, pick a word. This is the word that you’ll whisper to yourself before you go into a business or professional setting.”
She gave him a wry twist of a grin. “Capable—like my lips.”
He countered with a twitch of a half-smile. “Capable, it is. Now pick a centering word for your personal life.”
She cocked her head to the side. “My personal life?”
