by Dara Girard
“My God, you look awful,” his mother said, coming into the room, her cane clicking against the cream tile floor. She’d been staying with him after recovering from hip surgery. She’d improved, but made no move to leave and he didn’t want to push her. She’d been lonely since the death of his father five years ago. Although it was past midnight she looked as if she were ready for guests, draped in a silver colored silk robe and her head wrapped in a matching scarf, her mascara and lipstick still in place. But nobody had ever seen Josephine Scott without them.
Sebastian opened the fridge and grabbed an apple. “I met Dr. Naomi Mensah tonight.”
“I thought you were going to a wedding.”
He washed the apple and then took a bite. “I actually spoke to her and I’m going to be her assistant.”
Josephine waved her cane at him. “You smell even worse than you look. At least consider the housekeeper and how much she’ll have to clean up after you. You need to get changed right now.”
Sebastian rested against the counter and sighed, staring up at the recess lighting that cast a soft light over the marble countertop, amazed by his good fortune. “I can’t believe it.”
“I’d hoped you would have met someone nice and you come back looking like a toad out of a swamp.”
He took another bite of his apple and chewed thoughtfully. “She’s better looking in person than her pictures give her credit for. Not that it matters. Hey!” he cried when his mother snatched the apple from him.
“Sebastian!”
He blinked. “What?” He took the apple back from her and frowned. “I’m standing right here, there’s no need to shout.”
“Did you hear a word I said?”
Nope. He glanced at his watch. “What are you doing up?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” She stared at his clothes. “What happened to you?”
“I just told you I met Dr. Naomi Mensah.”
“Who?”
“Only one of the most brilliant minds in microbiology.”
She motioned to his ruined suit with her cane. “You met her looking like that?”
“No, this happened after.”
“After what?”
“I got her necklace out of the sewer.”
“What was her necklace doing in the sewer?”
“It fell off her neck and I offered to help her and got a job in the process.”
“You don’t need a job.”
That was true, but that was only part of his plan. “It’s just the beginning. This will change things for me.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“No, this is important. This is amazing. She is amazing. Better in person than I thought.”
“Is she pretty?”
“I’m not sure, I didn’t pay attention.”
“You just said she looked better in person than in pictures.”
“I was talking about her appearance in general. I wasn’t making a specific classification.”
Josephine curled her lip in disdain. “I hate when you start to talk like that. Knowing whether a woman is pretty or not does not take a detailed analysis.”
“But pretty is relative. Whether I find her pretty or not is irrelevant if you don’t think so, therefore I can’t give you a factual assessment on a personal preference.”
Josephine briefly shut her eyes. “Give me patience.” She opened her eyes and spoke slowly. “Do you find her pretty?”
“I think so, but—”
“There is no ‘but’. Stay away from her, you always get in trouble with pretty women.”
“No, I don’t. Besides, I plan to work with her not date her. She’s published a number of articles.” He paused. “Although, with two of them, I do question the veracity on the calculations used. She may have based her premise on a shaky foundation. However, her article on the—”
Josephine covered her ears and closed her eyes. “Sebastian!”
He took another bite of his apple. “You’re shouting again.”
She glared at him. “Because you’re purposely avoiding the subject.”
He frowned. “I am not. I thought the subject was Naomi Mensah.”
“It is.”
“And I was just telling you about—”
Josephine shook her head and slumped into a seat. “I don’t care because I’m not interested. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I won’t.”
Josephine held up her hand and began counting her fingers. “Molly Robb, Kristine Lyle, Barbara Dean—”
He winced. “It’s not like that.”
His mother didn’t need to remind him that he had terrible luck with women. It had started in middle school. That’s when he’d first gotten his heart broken by Molly Robb who’d humiliated him in the school courtyard.
He’d been born with extreme clubbed feet that had taken multiple surgeries to fix. He’d spent most of his first eleven years in and out of hospitals so he’d been home schooled, but was thrilled to attend regular school. In middle school, he was in a wheelchair and chubby from lack of exercise and a love of food. He’d eaten to deal with the pain and the isolation, but was happy to be out of the hospital and with other kids.
Molly had been his first crush and she’d acted as if she liked him too with her cupid bow lips and shy smiles, so when she asked to meet him after school, so he could help her with her homework, he’d eagerly agreed.
He should have known when he saw her with her two girlfriends it was a set up. But he realized his mistake too late. They charged him, tipped over his wheelchair and laughed at him as he struggled to get upright. They recorded the event, eventually posting it on an online message board. For the first time in his life he wanted to crawl into the ground and hide, but he didn’t. Instead he made it back into his chair and wheeled away determined not to cry.
He didn’t know how his parents found out, if his brother had seen the video and told them or someone else, but soon after the incident his father came into his room.
Sebastian remembered not being able to look his father in the eye. He sat at his desk; wearing headphones blasting rap music with foul lyrics that made him feel empowered, pretending to do an equation he’d already figured out.
His father came up beside him, turned off the music and rested a large hand on his shoulder. “I heard about what happened in the courtyard.”
Sebastian scribbled some numbers down, wishing he’d go away.
“I’m proud of you. You became a man that day.”
Sebastian took off his headphone and stared up at him startled. “What?” He didn’t feel like a man. He’d cried like a baby once he was alone in his room and didn’t want to have to go to school again. For the past two days he’d stayed home saying he had a cold. He even considered asking his parents to home school him again.
His father squeezed his shoulder. “You made me proud,” he said, the island lilt of his words filled with emotion.
Sebastian gritted his teeth. “No, I didn’t.”
“You didn’t get back in that wheelchair and roll away?” his father asked surprised.
“Yes, but—”
“There’s no ‘but’. That’s all life is. It’s about getting knocked down and getting back up even when they laugh at you. Even when they hold your hand under their feet.” He nodded at Sebastian’s surprised expression. “Yes, I saw that too.” He motioned to Sebastian’s swollen hand where one of Molly’s friend, the one with braces and straight black hair, had stood on it. “But you still got up. And you’re going to keep getting up by being a success, by using that day as a ladder. As a weapon if you have to.”
“A weapon?”
“Yes, a tool that will fuel you past all of them. Keep up your studies and you keep making me proud and you’ll own the world. You’re going to be taking over my business one day so get used to this.”
Sebastian turned away and looked back at his math homework. He didn’t look forward to taking over his father’s real estate busin
ess.
“Do well this semester,” his father continued, “and we’ll visit your uncle this summer. Think you can do that?”
Sebastian twirled his pencil. He liked his Uncle and would love to visit his home in Trinidad, but he wasn’t sure he could face his classmates again.
“You can’t have a cold forever. Go to school and shame them with your knowledge.”
Sebastian set his pencil down hard, wanting to snap it in two. He hated that advice. He hated his father always talking about the importance of being smart. He loved his father, but could also see how clueless he was. How clueless most adults were. Smart kids weren’t liked and didn’t make friends. But a summer away would be nice.
He rolled his pencil under his finger, pensive. A summer away with food and sun and beach seemed like a good trade. “Okay,” he said and his father’s promise galvanized him and helped him ignore the taunts and teasing he endured while he aced every subject.
That summer, the family visited his uncle and Sebastian and his brother, Gregg, got to spend two months in a palm shaded house only yards away from the ocean. His Uncle taught him how to fish and swim, which changed his life.
In the water he was free and powerful. Nothing could stop him and he also became engrossed by what he found in the water. The wildlife drew him in and that’s when he knew what his life work would be.
But he still got in trouble with women. Kristine Lyle had been his college mistake. He was the only one who didn’t know she was seeing two other guys at the same time and only needed him to help her pass her exams. Barbara had been more serious, he’d nearly married her. Until he found out she also wasn’t what she seemed.
He had learned his lesson. His mother didn’t need to worry about him. He knew that nothing would happen between him and Naomi. He needed the job to put his plan into action; she was a bridge to something bigger.
After five years, he had a chance at redemption. To reclaim the life he’d once loved. A chance to stand before his father’s grave with pride.
Chapter 5
Someone was at the door.
Naomi glanced at the clock and scowled, she wasn’t expecting anyone. She never accepted visitors before noon and she was only home because of a slight cold that she didn’t want to pass to others in the lab. She’d been lazing on the couch wearing a pair of worn jeans and a white long sleeved shirt, reading one of her industry journals when she heard the doorbell.
The time on the clock said noon on the dot.
The two other men seeking an afternoon quickie had come around noon time. She really needed to move.
The bell rang again.
“Are you going to get that?” her father called from her bedroom that she now only used as place to park her computer and extra research materials. He’d come by to make sure that Naomi was safe. Her mother had already hired a crew to clean her place from top to bottom—whispering to her that cucumber seeds could be everywhere!—and didn’t want Naomi left home alone with a cold since she was determined not to stay at her parents’ place.
Her father had graciously agreed to look over some data with her and discuss another project she was interested in.
“Yes,” she said, then shuffled over to the door. Her scowl increased when she looked through the peephole. Just as she expected. A man. Probably on his lunch break wanting Naomi to put a smile on his face.
She swung the door open and glared up at the large shaggy looking man in his mid-thirties who wore a suit that looked like it had never seen an iron. He had skin the color of roasted peanuts with maroon, square glasses, and nice brown eyes. He needed a haircut and a shave or at least a trim and some semblance of being groomed.
If she were to label him a bacteria it would be the the lactococcus lactis, a spherical-shaped bacterium mostly known for use in the production of buttermilk and cheese, but which had most impressed her because it was the first genetically modified organism to be used alive for the treatment of human diseases.
He looked like the kind of man who could both spoil something or improve it, depending on his use. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t have a delivery package, or a clipboard for her to sign, just a cumbersome looking black bag, possibly filled with sex toys. She couldn’t imagine what kind of fantasy he was in the mood for, but she could guess that he’d come to her front door to spoil her day.
He cleared his throat. “Hello, I—”
His voice didn’t suit him. His tone was distant but polite, a well modulated baritone as if he were ready to give a presentation, not spend a half hour with a prostitute. Naomi rested her hip on the door and shook her head, interrupting him. “I’m not here to judge you, but you’ve come to the wrong place. Maya is no longer offering her lunch or afternoon special. So if you could tell the others the same, I’d really appreciate it. Have a nice day.” She closed the door and wiped her hands, pleased with herself. When the first two men had arrived, she hadn’t been half as nonchalant. She’d shouted at the first one and the second guy—who’d given her a once over and said “You’re a bit skinny for my taste with no boobs, but I’ll stay if you give a discount”—she’d cursed out, using language she’d invented. So this new guy was lucky.
The doorbell rang again.
Or stupid.
It rang a third time. A fourth time.
Boy, the bastard was insistent. She opened the door.
He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “There must be a mistake.”
“There’s no mistake. You’re not the first to be confused, but you’re wasting your time and mine. Now get out of my sight before I call the police.” She slammed the door.
Her father poked his head out of the bedroom. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Who was that?”
“No one.” She was not going to explain the situation and have him calling her mother. Her mother would try to convince her to move within the next two hours. She didn’t want to stay at their house. She loved them to bits, but her mother could nag. Every hour of the day she would be in her space. “Is that all you’re going to eat for breakfast?” “Have you washed your hair?” “Are you really going to wear that again?” Naomi shivered at the thought. No, she’d deal with the men until she could find somewhere else to live.
The man rang again and knocked on the door.
“Please, there’s been a mistake,” he said in a rush when she opened the door. He pulled out his wallet. “I just—”
Naomi’s temper snapped, remembering the other man waving cash in her face. “Do you want to go to jail? Do you want me to tell you what I think about men who go out with women behind their wives’…” She glanced at his hand and didn’t see a ring… “or girlfriends’ backs?”
He sighed and looked pained. “Dr. Mensah.”
She froze. He knew her name? And why did his voice suddenly sound familiar?
“I’m here about the job,” he continued.
Naomi held up her hand. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Please listen closely.” She leaned towards him and slowed her words, making sure to emphasize every syllable. “I don’t do blow jobs or hand jobs or lube jobs. I’m trying to tell you that you’ve come to the wrong place.”
She grabbed the door, but this time he stopped her before she could close it. A shiver of fear coursed through her as she met his hard, dark gaze. His glasses didn’t soften his features. He looked large and strong and dangerous. Like a virus invading a cell with the ability to replicate until the cell was destroyed. He could overpower her swiftly and without effort.
She could scream, but she didn’t want to put her father’s life in danger. This man could easily overtake him. She licked her lips, her mouth dry. She’d make him calm down and then she’d find a weapon. She couldn’t show fear.
But something must have registered on her face, because his grip loosened on the door and his expression softened. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He held up his wallet to show her his driver’s license
. “I wanted to show my identification. I’m Sebastian Scott. I’m here to work for you.”
She paused. “Me?” Had her mother hired a bodyguard and not told her? He didn’t look the part, but his presence would certainly help.
He looked a little rueful. “I guess you forgot.”
“Forgot about what?”
“To call me. It’s been nearly a week. I’m your new personal assistant.”
Naomi furrowed her brows. “I don’t need an assistant.”
“But you have one now, you promised me the night I retrieved your necklace.”
Oh God…the necklace! The man! The sewer! It all came flooding back. Naomi had pushed the memory away as part of an awful dream. He’d even given her his card; it was probably buried deep in her glove compartment where she’d tossed it.
But he was here now and he really wanted to work for her. But he was all wrong. Pete gets a top assistant like Monica and she gets some guy who likes climbing into sewers. Her luck was truly terrible.
“Don’t worry,” Sebastian said, making his way inside, walking with a distinct stride she’d never seen before. “I’ll make your life easy and won’t be a bother. You won’t regret this.” He closed the door behind him, making it clear he didn’t plan to leave. “I went to your lab first, and heard you were sick with a cold, so I brought some soup.” He patted the black bag beside him. The one she’d imagined carried whips and chains.
“I have a very busy day today,” she lied. “Could I call you back, um…?”
“Sebastian,” he said patiently. “Sebastian Scott. And I’m ready to get started right now. Where’s your kitchen? I’ll heat the soup. Have you eaten?”
“No, but—”
Her father came into the room. “Naomi?” he said, his look and tone unsure, giving her a silent question of whether he should call the police.
“Dad…um this is…”
“Sebastian,” the newcomer said, holding out his hand, his face spreading into a warm smile. “And it’s an honor to meet you, sir. I attended your lecture in London.”
“Thank you. I haven’t been doing as much travelling in a while so that must have been quite some time ago.”
