Page 59 of The Sebastian Guarantee
“Okay, laugh,” she said under her breath.
He chuckled, then took a sip of champagne. “Phoebe, your razor-sharp wit is hilarious.”
Jeremy slowed his pace, then looked Phoebe up and down like he couldn’t believe his eyes.Lap it up, buttercup. Phoebe Gale was a stone-cold fox, and she was his . . . his friend. He grimaced. How many damned times would he have to remind himself of that? Christ, twice in less than sixty seconds, obviously. But there was no time to concern himself with his struggle with the termfriendwhile a befuddled Jeremy stood before them.
“Phoebe, I hardly recognized you. You look different—terrific, gorgeous even,” the jackass blabbered, talking like he’d just figured out how his mouth worked.
Phoebe slapped a shit-eating grin on her lips. “Thanks, Jeremy. You look . . . the same.”
Boom! Hello, Glenn Pines Lodge. Phoebe, the American Man-eater, was in the house.
Jeremy glanced at him. “And Sebastian Cress,” the man stammered like he was still getting the hang of the English language. “We haven’t met, but I’ve heard a lot about you. Phoebe talks about you all the time. I feel like I know you, and of course, you’re internet famous. I’d leave those kids in the rain, too. Dog-eat-dog world, right? Anyway, I’m Jeremy Drewler. I’m not sure if Phoebe mentioned me to you.”
They’d knocked the butthole douche nozzle off-balance. The guy sounded like he belonged in a padded cell. Another good sign. Then again, there was something slightly contrived in his nervous demeanor. Was he pretending to be nervous?
Sebastian held the man’s gaze for a long beat, taking a page from his dad’s boxing ring playbook. Looking at a guy a second longer than what was socially accepted was a strategic way to assert dominance. Just when he thought Jeremy was about to shit his pants, he flicked his attention to the lapping lake. “I know who you are, Jeremy.”
“Right, because Phoebe and I are . . .” Jeremy shifted his stance and took a step toward Phoebe.
“Are what?” Phoebe mused and raised her hand, signaling the man to stay back. “And by the way, how’s your friend Tina doing?”
Sebastian didn’t know who Tina was, but it didn’t take a degree in rocket science to infer that Jeremy had a chick on the side. He should chuck the guy into the water for Phoebe, this random Tina, and probably every other woman who’d endured dating this tool.
“She’s just somebody I know,” Jeremy answered, then glanced over his shoulder toward a trio of man-bun hipsters. They must have been Jeremy’s tech bros because they sure as hell weren’t surveillance specialists. The men were doing their best—and failing miserably—to appear as if they weren’t glued to this interaction.
Phoebe took a sip of champagne. “Like I was justsomebodyyou knew?”
“Could I speak with you, Pheebs, privately?” Jeremy asked, lowering his voice.
Phoebe reared back. “You’ve never called mePheebsbefore.”
“Really? I thought I had,” the man answered, then flicked his gaze toward the tech bros.
“Pheebsis what the people who love me call me.” Phoebe took another sip of champagne. “And anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Sebastian, my best and closest friend.”
Sebastian puffed up. “That’s right, Drewler. I’m her best friend. And we don’t have all night to stand here lollygagging. Speak your piece, Strawberry Man Bun.”
Strawberry Man Bun?That sounded like the annoying hipster stepbrother of Strawberry Shortcake, and it was one gem of a response. Phoebe appeared to like it as well. She pressed her lips into a tight line. He knew that face. She was trying her hardest not to laugh her ass off.
Jeremy flashed heartsick puppy-dog eyes at her. “My behavior was atrocious. I didn’t mean what I said.”
Phoebe tapped her chin and frowned. “I’m confused, Jeremy. You said quite a bit. Let me get this straight. You didn’t mean that you were only dating me to get in with my uncle and aunt. Or you didn’t mean that I wasn’t the kind of woman a man would want by their side. Or perhaps, it was the statement about me only getting invited to LETIS because I have two X chromosomes.”
Phoebe Gale wasn’t taking any prisoners tonight.
Jeremy toyed with his strawberry blond man bun. “All of the above. I was stressing about LETIS. Like you, I want to succeed so badly. I let that cloud my judgment. I said some terrible things. I’m so sorry—so very sorry.”
Sebastian waited for Phoebe to let loose another verbal jab. A few seconds passed, but she didn’t make a peep. He glanced down and could barely believe that her expression had softened.
She mustered a weak grin. “The things you said were cruel and hurtful, but I appreciate your apology.”
“What?” Sebastian yipped like a flabbergasted Chihuahua. He couldn’t help it. How could she fall for Jeremy’s fake act of contrition?
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you, Pheebs,” the man continued, laying the blubbering on thickly.
And who did he think he was, calling her Pheebs? He didn’t have the right to call her that.
A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. He glanced at Jeremy’s man bun squad. The trio didn’t even try to disguise their interest. This was bullshit. Jeremy was playing her. The man bun audience proved that the douche had something up his sleeve. But what?
