The Protege
Page 6
“Charmed,” Mrs. Brookes said at the introduction, though her facial expression was anything but charmed. Clearly, she echoed her daughter’s sentiment.
Seated immediately to Serena’s left was Michael who leaned his knee into hers while Mr. and Mrs. Faris, introduced as close and dear friends of the family, rounded out the rest of the table.
Dinner was served amidst financial conversation that Serena found tedious and old. Michael did try to strike up a conversation that veered away from finances, but it always come back to the table. It seemed every topic came back to money. It sometimes began with art, but turned to the value of a Picasso. It sometimes began with a family vacation, but ultimately turned into an evaluation of this hotel, that cruise line or that exclusive boutique.
No matter how or where the conversation began, someone found a way to bring it back to money. How to make more. How to spend more. How to have more. Some didn’t even bother disguising the discussion beneath anything else. They just came straight out and talked dollars and cents. While some lightly discussed wasting hundreds of thousands on some convoluted venture, others took to heart the thousands of dollars they’d put down on their dress, or their car, or their home.
“Are you enjoying your meal?” Sebastian said when he was finally able to tear away from his mother and pay some attention to Serena. He draped his arm on the back of her chair and leaned in close.
“Absolutely.” She’d tried to ignore the sprinkling of words she’d picked up between him and his mother, but some of the words she’d overheard hurt her more than she cared to admit. Far from talking about money, Marika seemed obsessed with Sebastian’s future, namely his future with her. On more than one occasion she was referred to as, ‘that girl,’ and she thought she’d heard the term ‘commoner’ used to describe her.
Soothing those hurt feelings, however, was Sebastian’s touch. The heat of his fingers as they drew a line across her bare shoulder was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze. For a brief instance, the room around them disappeared and she was alone with him. The heat became suffocating as his gaze intensified.
A waiter came around them and offered more wine, breaking the private and all too brief interlude.
“My mother insists on having the best chefs in her kitchen,” he said after clearing his throat.
“It’s understandable. With the crowd here, you don’t want to just serve them something average and mundane.”
“Taking my mother’s defense. How admirable.” He grinned.
“Is it just me, or do I sense a bit of tension between you and your mother?”
“If you look closely, you’ll probably see there’s a lot of tension between my mother and just about everyone in this room.”
“That’s a little harsh.”
“That’s the truth. As loving and kind as she can sometimes be, the demands of the role she has chosen to play among the obscenely rich sometimes takes its toll. I think much of it has whittled away the warm, compassionate woman she once was and has left a cold and calculating one in its place.”
“Ouch,” was all Serena could say. Saddened by his assessment of his own mother, she looked at him and wondered how he’d managed to come out unscathed by it all.
“Are you close to your parents?” he asked.
The workings of her fork on her plate suddenly took all her attention. She pushed the food around her plate a moment and swallowed the ball of emotion. She was more than willing to talk about him and his family, but was reluctant to open up about her own life.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a voice that was soft and comforting. “Have I touched a chord?”
“My father left when I was eight.” Her eyes remained on her plate as she made her declaration. “Other than his raging fits of anger and the back of his hand I don’t remember much about him. My mother tried to raise me alone, but her bottle was more important than I was. Before I turned nine, she drove herself off a pier.”
Sebastian’s warm hand enveloped her shoulder and pulled her closer. He said nothing, but she could feel his compassion for the childhood she’d had.
“It wasn’t all that bad,” she said after a long moment of relishing his comforting touch. “My Nana raised me; my mom’s mother. She wasn’t really prepared to take on a little, and rather hotheaded girl, but… well, she did what she had to do.”
“Looking at you today, I’d say she did a pretty good job.”
Pressing her lips tightly together as she remembered her grandmother, Serena looked at Sebastian. “That’s far from what you said when I entered your office.”
“I had my professional professor’s hat on then. Now I’m your date. It’s not the same thing.”
“Bash,” his mother’s voice called over their quiet and private conversation. “Need I remind you there are other people at the table?”
He pulled away and sat back. “Yes, mother. Forgive me for being so attentive to my intriguing and fascinating date. I just can’t pull away from her.”
Marika sneered and shot him a killer glare. “Your father was just talking about the position he offered you at KSI.”
“Was he?”
“It seems like it would be a wonderful opportunity for you. With Theodore Fiennes going into retirement, the timing couldn’t be more perfect.”
“From your vantage point, perhaps, Mother, not from mine. Need I remind you that I’ve students who depend on me, not to mention a musical score to finish?”
“Oh, honey. I haven’t forgotten about this hobby of yours. What your father is offering, however, is a true career. He’s offering not only financial stability, but the opportunity to become a financial force in your own right.” Marika clucked her tongue and glanced briefly at Serena before leaning in to speak to Sebastian again. “You're standing in the community could be at risk if you insist on pursuing this musical nonsense much longer. The Brookes have been patient. I’ve been patient.”
Her icy glare came to rest on Serena. “You can’t spend the rest of your life surrounded by small minded musicians and…”
“That’s enough, Mother. I won’t have you insulting my date… my guest. I neither want nor need your advice; not about my career, not about my love life… not about my life in general.”
Marika reached out to give his hand a patronizing tap. “Of course you don’t dear. You’ve always been such a hothead.”
“Don’t worry about it, Bash,” Willow called from across the table. “I think your hothead is your most endearing feature, but your mother is right.”
“That’s right, Bash,” Mrs. Brooke threw in. “Music can only bring you so far in life. It’s an amusing pastime, but hardly something you want to spend your life doing.”
“And just think,” Willow went on, “with you at KSI and me heading up my father’s company, we’d be a true force to be reckoned with.”
Michael leaned in close to Serena. “Really, I have to ask again. What is the draw of this man? I can understand the whole boy band ideology where tweens and teens are concerned. I can even understand the appeal of a real man like Elvis; I mean millions of women can’t be wrong, right?”
Serena smiled and tried to be amused, but the frustration level was beyond manageable. The whole table had ganged up on Sebastian causing a fire to burn in her gut.
“I’ll need your answer before next Friday, son,” Kaiser said, his hands solemnly clasped before him. “I have to find a replacement for Theodore before he actually leaves us. You’d get that great corner office.”
Sebastian cocked a cynical brow at his father. “Corner office? You think that’ll do it for me? A corner office?”
“Bash, honey,” Marika said. “Mind your manners. Your father is only trying to do what’s best for you. Why can’t you see that?”
Grinding his teeth, Sebastian dropped his gaze to his plate.
“I’m sorry.” Mortified, Serena could not stay silent a moment longer. “Have any of you ever heard Sebastian’s music? Have any of you ever b
othered to sit back and truly listen to the melodies, the harmonies, the lyrical musicality of every single note he writes?”
For a long and uncomfortable moment, everyone at the table was silent. Though Michael seemed genuinely embarrassed for Sebastian, and Mr. and Mrs. Faris fidgeted in discomfort, everyone else seemed ready to pounce on Serena.
“You're his date for the night, darling,” Marika snarled. “That hardly gives you the right to speak about the direction he should take in his life. I’m his mother. I raised him and I have a lifetime invested in him. I will not sit idly by and watch my son throw away his life, whether it be on a professional level or a personal one.”
“Are you aware, Mrs. Sorensen, that your son has thrown away his life on a Tony and a few Oscars? Are you aware just how the world of music loves him, reveres him, admires him? He is not just a flash in the pan. He’s the real deal. Every student at Irvine loves him, and while it might be easy to assume that it’s just because he’s sexy and good looking, I assure you they love him for what he brings to his music and what he can bring to their music.”
“The man is well into his twenties and he still hasn’t settled down,” Marika argued with an indignant cluck of her tongue. “Does he really think a woman like Willow will just sit around and wait endlessly for him?”
Serena put her hand out and counted off on her fingers: “The Flight. Sands of Time. Insane Love. I bet you don’t even know what all that is. Those are songs his students can only dream of writing. They’re musical masterpieces that will far outlive everyone here.”
Sebastian reached out to quiet her down with the gentle touch of his hand, but she was too impassioned to stop. “I cannot believe that you would try to silence such a musical genius.”
“Serena, dear,” Kaiser quietly said. “I appreciate your desire to defend Sebastian, but you are out of line. As Marika has stated, we have a lifetime invested in Bash. You have what? An invitation to a fundraiser?”
“No. Apparently I’ve been invited to a session of intimidation. How hypocritical of you. It’s clear the only reason you invited Sebastian here is so that he could draw in loads of rich people. You want to profit from his celebrity all the while criticizing the very talent that made him so. You people disgust me.” She threw her pretty linen napkin into her plate and stood. “I think I’ve seen quite enough for one night. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to return to the world of the sane.”
Six incredulous set of eyes stared back at her, but it was the amused smirk on Michael’s face that caught her attention. She suddenly questioned her actions and wondered if she’d gone too far.
Somber faced and silent, Sebastian stood, took hold of her elbow and led her away.
Chapter 7
They walked to Sebastian’s Roadster in silence. When Sebastian opened the passenger door for her, he barely looked at her. She sat and stared straight ahead as he got in and started the car. As he backed out of the parking space and headed to the street, she noticed the tight hold he had on the steering wheel as well as the hard and harsh manner in which he maneuvered the car.
“I’m sorry,” Serena said after another few minutes of excruciating silence. Staring down at the pretty shoes Laura had loaned her, she cursed her hot temper. She’d put so much effort into looking as elegant and classy as she could, only to let her mouth show just how little class she actually had. “I’m so sorry I caused a scene, Sebastian… um, Professor Sorensen. I know this isn’t…”
He continued to stare straight ahead as if she weren’t there at all. Tears stung her eyes as she realized the fool she’d made of herself. She’d ruined everything. There was no way he’d consider being her advisor now. How stupid could she be?
Sebastian pulled the Roaster into a parking lot that overlooked the ocean. At any other times, this could have been romantic and dramatic. Now the ocean appeared dull and gray; unappealing in every way. When he killed the engine, Serena bit her lip in anticipation. Surely he would let her have it. Surely he would give her hell for meddling where she had no business meddling.
“No one has ever stood up for me like that before,” he said in a quiet, almost crumbling voice.
“I know it was none of my business…”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ve long passed the day when I need someone to speak for me, but… I have to admit, I enjoyed that. You came to my defense in a way I never could.”
While she remained calm and serene on the outside, inside she trembled from the electric shock that shot through her. His touch was like fire, burning through her skin while his words reached deep down inside her.
“So you're not mad?” she managed to say.
“Far from it. If anything I’m even more fascinated by you than I already was.” He sat back and leaned into the headrest. Closing his eyes he let out a long and exasperated breath. “My family,” he grunted. “They take some getting used to.”
His last words were slightly slurred and his fingers slipped slowly away from hers and went to his belly. She wondered if he’d not had too much to drink. Wine had flowed freely at the fundraiser, but she had only seen him take two or three glasses throughout dinner. Had he taken more and she simply hadn’t noticed?
“You know, you’ve had a big night,” Serena said. “Why don’t you let me do the driving?”
Without opening his eyes, he said, “No, I’m fine. I’ll get you home.”
“Why? Don’t you trust me to drive this thing?” She added a teasing tone to her voice hoping to avoid a drunken argument.
Still leaning into the headrest, he turned to look lazily at her, a crooked smile on his lips. “You want to try driving it?”
“Sure. Could be fun.” Without waiting for him to change his mind, she got out of the car and ran around to open his door.
Though he struggled to get to shaky feet, he tried to laugh it off. Walking the palms of his hands along the side of his car to keep his balance, he made his way to the passenger seat and got in.
“Aren’t you going to buckle up?” Serena said as she got in and started the car, but he was already out. She reached passed his limp body and pulled the seatbelt across him. “Let’s get you home, music man.”
She eased the car onto the road and though she lacked his skill with the smooth curves, she managed to make it to her place in one piece. The moment she pulled into the parking space beside her own car, she realized she’d not really solved the problem; she’d only brought it home.
Now that they were at her place, what was she going to do with him?
“Sebastian, can you hear me?”
“Baby, baby, baby. I hear you loud and clear. Are you having trouble with my Roadster?”
Amused by his uncharacteristic silly antics, Serena helped get him out of the car.
“You know,” he said as she guided him up the stairs, “I don’t think I really feel so good.”
“No.” She shook her head as they reached her floor and she propped him up against the wall beside her door. “You really don’t.”
Once she’d unlocked the door, she kicked it open and led Sebastian inside. The moment he stepped inside, he vomited all over her freshly cleaned hardwood floor.
“Okay,” she said with surprising calm. “You really don’t feel good.” Gripping his shoulders, she led him to the sofa and let him fall back. “I’ll go clean up your little mess and be right back.”
“Wow, I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so…” He gagged, but quickly brought it under control.
Serena quickly picked up his mess, but between his gagging and the awful smell of partially digested meal, she found herself rushing to the bathroom to throw cool water on her face.
“You okay?” Sebastian called out.
“Yeah.”
Before he could be sick again, she hurried to the cabinet under the kitchen sink and pulled out a bucket. “Here,” she said as she came up and shoved it beside him. “Use this if you still feel nauseated.”
/> He sat up as he chocked and gagged and retched, but nothing came out and he reclined once again. “Get me out of this,” he muttered as he tugged on his tie.
As she pulled the knot of his tie apart and unbuttoned the first button of his shirt, she noticed how hot his skin was. It wasn’t the smoldering and sexy heat she’d felt early, but an unhealthy hotness that left his skin ashy and clammy.
Suddenly sensing the urgency of his situation, she worked to free him of his jacket, shirt and pants and quickly snuggled him up in a large and soft fleece gray sweatshirt and university sports shorts.
“Come on,” she said as she tried to sit him up. “Let’s get you into bed.”
He swayed and sank back into the cushions.
“Sebastian, I can’t get you to your feet if you don’t help me.”
When she tried again, he groaned and she knew this was more than just a little too much to drink.
“Okay, let’s forget getting you into bed. We’ve got to get you to the hospital.”
Chapter 8
“I initially thought he’d had too much to drink,” Serena said to the triage nurse. “It’s only when I noticed how feverish he’d become that I realized something was wrong.”
When the nurse frowned and didn’t say anything, Serena felt uneasy. She glanced at the woman’s name tag. “Um, Nurse Miller, do you think it could perhaps be something serious.”
Nurse Miller nodded as she efficiently pulled up the sweatshirt and gently prodded Sebastian’s hard abdomen. Serena watched her, mesmerized by the movements of the woman’s fingers over his skin, efficient, but almost sensual. Even as sick as he was, Sebastian managed to have that effect on women. From the admiring look in Nurse Miller’s eyes, no doubt she was attracted to Sebastian. Serena couldn’t help but feel a tug of envy.
Sebastian was pale, but he fought to remain upright. His knuckles were white as they gripped the edge of the examination table.