Page 61 of The Sebastian Guarantee
The Marieuse Group?
Sebastian’s heart leaped into his throat. He swallowed hard, doing his best to appear unfazed by the colossal bomb the drooler had dropped. And if that wasn’t enough, the woman in white, the Marieuse Group assistant herself, walked past them with her cell pressed to her ear. The woman caught his eye. He nodded to her, but Jeremy didn’t react.
“Do you recognize her?” he asked, trying to discern how much Drewler knew about the Marieuse organization.
Jeremy gave the woman a once-over. “She’s got a nice ass. I’d like to know her. Is she your type? Will the lady in white be your next conquest?”
A knot twisted in Sebastian’s stomach. “No, forget it. I’m not interested in her like that,” he muttered, so damned angry he’d spent the last six months posting his exploits online like a vapid playboy. That, coupled with the news that the Marieuse Group had contacted Jeremy Drewler, had thrown one hell of a wrench into the situation.
“Listen,” Jeremy said, leaning in, “I messed up with Phoebe. But you get it, right?”
What was Strawberry Man Bun talking about? On what planet wouldgetting itmean he was okay with this loser breaking his best friend’s heart? He sized up the man. “No, I don’t get it.”
Jeremy adjusted his bullshit hipster glasses as a slimy grin leaked across his lips. “I think you do. I started following you on social media the day I met Phoebe. You’re with a different woman every day of the week. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not judging. Who wouldn’t want that life? But seeing Phoebe without that stupid beret and not covered in hot dog condiments would make any man take a second look.”
“Is that so?” Sebastian shot back, wishing they were near the edge of the lake.
“Sure, who could have thought that ugly duckling of a tech nerd could turn into a smokin’ hot swan?”
Disgusted, Sebastian glared at the man.
“As her friend,” Jeremy continued, undeterred, “I’m sure you want her to be happy.”
“As herbest friend,” Sebastian countered, “I don’t want her to be jerked around by some guy who’s only out to use her.”
Jeremy Drewler didn’t care about Phoebe—not in the way she deserved to be cared for. Sebastian tightened his hand into a fist. Did he want to employ a few well-placed jabs straight to Jeremy’s kidneys and maybe a sharp pop to his left cheek? Hell yes. The man’s smug expression was begging to be pummeled clean off his face. But he couldn’t make a scene. And he didn’t want to upset Phoebe.
The slimy grin returned to Jeremy’s face. “I get it. We both want what’s best for Phoebe. And with that thinking, would you mind doing me a favor?”
Sebastian scoffed. “You want me to do you a favor?”
“Yeah, keep the news of the Marieuse Group between us. I don’t want Phoebe or anyone else catching wind that I’m on the cusp of partnering with another investment firm. I wouldn’t want her wanting me for my money, you know what I mean? If things go my way, I’ll get the girl and have investors clamoring to pay me buckets of cash.”
“You’re trying to get her back?” Sebastian blasted.
“Look at her. What man wouldn’t want her? Besides you, since you’re her bestfriend,” the man replied, placing an oily emphasis on the last word.
Sebastian schooled his features. “Do you think I’d allow that?”
“It’s not up to you, bro,” Jeremy replied, puffing up like an overstuffed strawberry blond turkey.
This douche nozzle was walking a fine line.
“I’m not your bro, and Phoebe would never take you back.”
Jeremy offered up an aloof shrug. “I don’t know about that. You saw her face when I apologized. That sappy stuff turns her into a tenderhearted pile of mush. And then there’s our love match.”
A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. He knew what was coming.
“We met in line at a food truck, thanks to the Munch Match app,” Jeremy answered coolly. “And Phoebe told me about how a matchmaker said her match had already been made. Why couldn’t it be me? It certainly couldn’t be you, right?”
Sebastian tightened his fist and ground his teeth together. If he wasn’t careful, he’d bust a molar. But he couldn’t help himself. It was as if he’d been thrust back in time to that damned day. His phone had pinged an incoming text, and the message had gutted him to the very core. But he couldn’t let this wanker know he’d hit a nerve. He schooled his features—but he must not have done a very good job of hiding his reaction.
Jeremy’s slimy smile oozed wider. “Or do you believe you’re her love match? Do you want her for yourself now that she’s a knockout? I wonder how that would make her feel?”
Jeremy Drewler was one slippery snake.
Sebastian hardened his gaze. “What I want is none of your business,boyo.”
