Page 182 of The Billionaire's Wedding

He knew he was being pathetic, and he sighed. “Just a few pleasantries. ‘Hi. Good to see you. Lily’s upstairs, second door on the right.’ That sort of thing.”

“He seems a little sad,” I mused as I watched Javier talk to Abby.

“You think?” Sebastian asked, some hope drifting into his voice.

“He certainly was while he was doing my hair.”

“Really?” Sebastian said, the hope coming into full bloom.

“Ohhh yeah. Real mopey. Tried to put on a brave front, but I could tell.”

“Huh…”

“You should go over and talk to him.”

“No… I don’t… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sebastian whined, wringing his hands.

“You know… a very wise man told me something once.”

Sebastian gave me one of his epic eye rolls. “What.”

“‘Go and claim your man.’”

Sebastian looked surprised, and then the tiniest hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Well… whoever told you that, he was rather wise, I’ll give him that.”

“I think that wise man ought to follow his own advice.”

Now there was fear in Sebastian’s eyes. “Oh – no – I don’t think that’s such a – ”

“Do you want him?”

Sebastian looked back at Javier, and I could see the wistful longing in his eyes. “…yes.”

“Then go on up and say, ‘I’m yours, you’re mine, let’s cut the crap.’”

Sebastian gave me a sideways look. “When I told you that, it was supposed to be more about the attitude than anything literal.”

“Do it however you want to. Just go do it, that’s all.”

He went back to whiny. “I don’t – ”

So I hauled off and slapped him on the butt. HARD.

“OW!” he yelped, and took a few steps forward just to get away from me.

“GO,” I ordered him. “Go and claim your man.”

Sebastian looked over his shoulder. Javier and Abby were looking at him, their attention drawn by the butt-slap and the yelp.

“Oh God,” Sebastian whispered.

“Too late to back out now,” I said gaily.

He glared back at me as he started walking towards Javier. “I will get you for this,” he hissed.

“You can thank me later,” I laughed. “You can even call me your Fairy Godmother.”

“You’re certainly dressed for it,” he muttered, then cleared the distance across the lawn.

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