Page 21 of Mr. Aster
“What’s that look for?” I questioned, trying to follow her.
“I think this is some strange power exchange between averyattractive young man and my gorgeous, spirited daughter. I believe you’re attracted to him as well.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Oh, no, Mom. You’re going to have to stop with that,” I informed her. “The man might be devastatingly handsome, but he’s got the personality of a boar’s asshole. He and I are worlds apart in our views abouteverything,and I mean every damn thing, down to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You know me, and you imagining that I would dare to attract someone like that into my life is absolutely nuts.”
“You’re spirited,” she said with a smile, “but with a wild heart that cannot be tamed.”
“And you believe I would entertain a man like that, a man who has successfully broken my parents’ wild spirits with his incessant critiques? A man who, if I were foolish enough to be attracted to only looks and money,would succeed in breaking your daughter’s lively spirit as well?”
Unexpectedly, she smiled, “I see you’ve already given much thought about what it would be like to?—”
“No, I haven’t given itanythought at all. The only time I’m forced to think about anything like this with that wretched asshole is when you approach me like I’m an eighteen-year-old girl who is lusting after the wrong man. I’m almost thirty, and I’ve been through enough failed relationships to know a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Love happens when you least expect it, my darling,” she said, blasting me with her hippie vibes.
“Let’s stop talking about this,” I said, smiling but getting creeped out that my mom saw some love story potential between Sebastian and me.
“I’m only saying that I see a spark in both of you when you get going. It’s like you both love to hate each other,” she chuckled. “It’s kind of cute.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “I don’t actuallyhatethe man. I just find him completely off-putting. He’s attractive, and I wouldbe lying if I said otherwise, but like I said before, we are from two different worlds. We don’t see eye-to-eye, and we never will. I honestly don’t see myself unexpectedly falling in love with him, and I can guarantee you that it’s the furthest thing from his mind with me. So, get your hopes of that nonsense out of the clouds, and just be excited that I finished my assignment for Maxwell Barbison.”
“If that name is never mentioned in my presence again, it will be too soon,” Sebastian’s thunderous voice announced as he casually walked into the kitchen where Mom and I were.
He made his way over to the twelve-thousand-dollar espresso machine he had delivered last week. (Not a joke. Twelve thousand damn dollars for an espresso machine that, in my humble opinion, does the same thing a thirty-dollar one could do).
This was the first morning we’d had a run-in in over a week. I knew his morning routine and had learned how to avoid him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t walking in here at six-thirty in the morning, as usual, when I took my morning runs. Instead, he was here at seven-thirty, half an hour after his diabolical presence typically left the house and went to the tasting rooms to make the people still willing to work here miserable.
The fun fact that he hated the billionaire I’d just written an article about was no surprise to me. Sebastian didn’t seem the type to view anyone as a peer, let alone an equal. I could only imagine the petty jealousies that ran wild within those groups of one-percenters.
“May I ask how you know the man?” Sebastian asked after I remained quiet.
“No,” I answered him. “Perhaps I should ask you how you know him since you seem to have a harsh opinion.”
“My family has grown to loathe him in our circles in New York. He’s a flashy upstart who flaunts his money like he’s beengiven charge of the generational wealth he could never be so fortunate to inherit.”
“Well, shit,” I said with wide eyes, ignoring the fact that my mother was most likely doing some hippy bullshit in her head about how cute this love-to-hate exchange was going down. “Those really are some harsh opinions. Is that how people withold moneyview people with visions who become extremely successful after pursuing their dreams?”
“Anyone foolish and flashy with their money is someone I judge harshly. Mark my words: the man’s wealth and days of being an arrogant tycoon are numbered.”
“Oh? You are certain of that?”
He took a sip of espresso, his dark eyes matching mine in yet another stare down, “I am. I’ve seen men like him rise and fall more times than I can count. They have no idea what they’re doing, and it shows by how they flash their wealth. Money changes people into utter fools who spend beyond their means, thinking it will always be there. Once they lose their vision, blinded by their newfound fortune, it is only a matter of time before they are swallowed up in a life they could not have prepared for.”
“And how exactly are they swallowed up?” I questioned. Honestly, I agreed with what he said about the money running the show and people losing their way in life because of it.
“It usually starts with addictions of various kinds, substance abuse being the most prevalent. Although, if they have a penchant for gambling, you can all but guarantee that will be the root of their demise. They wind up in rehab centers, divorced, and in the end, all they’re left with is a failing business that is slipping away as quickly as it manifested.”
“He’s not married,” I said, challenging him.
“Not yet,” Sebastian arched a sexy eyebrow at me while taking another sip of his espresso. “He will be, though, and Iwould venture to guess he goes through five wives before he looks for a coping mechanism, all while his business falls and people like me come in and bail it out.”
“If I had to guess,” I said, knowing that Maxwell was an attractive young thirty-year-old man, “I’d say you are enemies with him because of an ex-girlfriend from…Cambridge?”
To my surprise, he grinned, “I attended Oxford; however, I am surprised that you know Mr. Barbison attended Cambridge.”
Shit. I did not need this man to know that I wrote the Billionaire Gossip column, not because I was still on the fence about doing an article on his bastard ass, but because I was smartly aware that he would be even more of a horrible dick to me for writing it. I was in no mood to be insulted by him, and the man seemed to survive these days by insulting everyone. I would not be the source of what gave him life in his dark world.
“Everyone knows that,” I said dismissively. “Google the guy, and you’ll get all the dirty details you want.” I sipped my now cold coffee, “But you didn’t answer my question. I think you dislike him because of an ex-girlfriend.”
