“Did Bailey fill you in about Juliette?” Daniel asks.
“No,” Sebastian sounds puzzled. “What’s Juliette have to do with this?”
Daniel quickly explains our discussion and Sebastian whistles. “You think Juliette planted that camera?” he asks. “I can’t see her doing something like that.”
“You guys. Listen to me,” I interrupt both of them. “She’s already warned me away from Sebastian once.” I tell them about the bathroom incident. “She’s obsessed with Sebastian’s career. And Daniel,” my voice rises with excitement as I remember something else. “She was talking to Cyrus at your party for the longest time.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t notice?”
“No,” he says. “They don’t really know each other.”
“Well,” I insist, my voice stubborn, “they appeared to be as thick as thieves. I know what I saw.”
“I’m not doubting you,” he says at once. “Not even in the slightest. I know how eager Juliette is to get this deal done.” His voice is grim. “I just didn’t think she’d stoop to this level.”
To be honest, neither did I. Yeah, Juliette’s ambitious and intense, but I didn’t think she’d resort to leaking photos of us to the tabloids. For starters, the plan makes no sense. Sebastian isn’t going to be more cooperative if this photo is front page news.
“I’m going to sort this out,” Sebastian promises. He hasn’t said anything for a while. “Bailey, if Juliette did do this…” His voice trails off. “I’m so sorry.”
“Will you stop?” Exasperation tints my voice. “God, you are just as bad as Daniel. Stop blaming yourselves for things that Cyrus and Juliette did. I’m not annoyed at the two of you. I’m saving my anger for the people that caused this situation.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line for a long time. Finally, Sebastian speaks, his voice very quiet. “We don’t deserve you, Bailey,” he says. I hear a phone ring in the background, and Sebastian picks it up. “Helen? What’s going on?” he asks. “Bailey, I have to take this call. Talk to you later?”
“Bye,” I tell him. “Daniel, you still there?”
“I am,” he confirms.
“You said you loved me earlier.” My heart is in my throat as I speak, but I have to know. “Was that a slip of the tongue?”
“Of course I love you, silly.” His voice softens. “Though it’s a rotten time to tell you that.”
A smile breaks out on my face. He loves me. One down, one to go. Now, I just have to confirm that Sebastian feels the same way. Because there’s three of us in my version of happily-ever-after, and I’m not going to settle for anything less than both of them.
“I love you too, billionaire boy,” I reply. “Now, go fix this. And if it turns out Juliette planted the camera, I will punch her.”
“Stop calling me billionaire boy,” he grumbles, though there’s a smile in his voice. “I hate that nickname.”
39
It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.
M.F.K. Fisher, The Art of Eating
Sebastian:
Helen’s voice is pitched high and her words tumble out. “Chef, thank god. You have to get down here.”
Helen manages the pass at Seb New York with complete calm. I’ve seen her deal with missing line cooks, burnt meat, overcooked fish, and she’s unflappable. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been a fire at the restaurant.” Her voice is strained. “The kitchen’s destroyed.”
“A fire?” Every muscle in my body is suddenly rigid. There’s a tingling in my fingers and a tightening in my chest. It’s difficult to breathe. “Where? How? What happened?” I’m putting on my coat as we speak, and Daniel eyes me with concern as I pace toward the door.
“At Seb New York,” she confirms my deepest fear. My restaurant. My precious, precious restaurant. “The firemen are here now, and they think some spilled oil caused it. Ben was in the kitchen, and they’ve rushed him to ER.” Her voice catches. “They don’t think he’s going to make it.”
I clutch at the phone, my knuckles white. This is my fault. This is all my fault. Ben has shown up drunk to work, and I’ve failed to send him home, even though the kitchen is a dangerous place for someone who is inebriated. I should have fired him so he couldn’t have hurt himself. I was going to fire him after my conversation with Katya on Thursday. Now, it’s too late.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell her. What have I done?
* * *
“What’s the matter?” Daniel asks when I hang up. He’s put on his jacket on as well. “I heard the word fire.”
“In the kitchen at Seb New York,” I say. I notice he’s following me. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” he asks me with a frown. “I’m coming with you.”
“Daniel, there’s a wall of reporters outside the door, and you said that Sally told you to keep a low profile.”
“You came here,” he says. “You braved the wall of reporters.” He gives me a half-smile. “It’s time to return the favor. Sebastian, I’ve listened to Cyrus all these years, and to what end? Cyrus doesn’t care about me. He just cares about becoming the CEO of Hartman.” He shakes his head. “What’s really important is this. Us. You, me and Bailey.”
“What about the reporters? The Kansas City deal? The meeting with the board of directors? Or are you going to give in to Cyrus and resign?”
“I don’t know.” His smile is strangely carefree. “Right now, I don’t have any of the answers. Let’s go deal with the fire. Once that’s done, I need to call the president of NYU and tell him that I’m not going to stand by and watch them fire Bailey in order to sweep their little plagiarism problem under the table. Then, we talk to Juliette. The other stuff - Cyrus, the board of directors, the Kansas City deal - all of that can wait.” He looks me in the eye. “People matter more than a job, Sebastian. I think it’s time I proved that.”
I slant him a look. “You sure about this? I don’t want you to regret it.”
“I’m positive.” He sounds completely confident. “Hartman and Company is not my life. I don’t think I could look myself in the mirror if I didn’t help you.”
This is the Daniel Hartman who extended his hand to help a nineteen year old runaway from Mississippi. On impulse, I hug my best friend. “I’m glad you are coming,” I tell him. “It would be good to have a friend at my side. Thank you.”
As we brave the horde of reporters, shouting questions at us, asking us if we have a statement for the press, I wish one thing. Though I know that it’s right to protect Bailey from all of this ugliness, part of me is selfish.
The three of us are a team. We belong together. As I head to face the destruction of the restaurant that I’ve worked so hard to build, an essential piece of me is missing. I wish Bailey could be with us.
* * *
Daniel:
It doesn’t take us long to get into my car and head to Seb New York. The street outside is crowded with fire trucks, ambulances and police cars. We open the door and hurry out, Sebastian making straight for Helen. When she sees him, she throws her arms around him and breaks down.
Sebastian’s face is white with shock as he pats her back, and I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. In order to be somewhat useful, I head to the person who seems to be in charge, a big fireman who looks to be in his fifties. “I’m Daniel Hartman,” I introduce myself. “Sebastian’s a little occupied at the moment.” I wave in Sebastian’s direction. “Can you fill me in?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Hartman,” the guys says. “My name is Neil Williams. Our crew was the first to respond to the call.”<
br />
“Who called it in?”
“The florist next door,” he says. “The call came in shortly after eleven.”
“Seb New York isn’t open for lunch.” I frown. “In fact, they aren’t even open Mondays.”
“They aren’t,” he confirms. “The woman who is the emergency contact said the same thing. Katya something?”
“Katya Marinova,” I tell him. “She’s the restaurant manager. So, what happened?”
“As best as I can tell, the fire was caused by an oil spill. In restaurants, it’s usually deep fryers.”
“And Ben? I heard he’s injured.”
“He’s badly burned,” Neil Williams confirms, his face sober. “More than that, he inhaled a lot of smoke. An ambulance took him away. The cops could probably tell you which hospital he’s in.”
No matter how many times I’ve urged Sebastian to fire Ben, he doesn’t deserve this. No one does. The poor guy. “And the damage to the premises? Is it safe enough to enter?”
“Absolutely not.” His voice is stern. “A crew will have to come in and verify that there’s no structural damage. Until they’ve given the green light, no one should enter the place.”
“Fair enough.” I’ve no desire to risk anyone’s life. Enough damage has been done today. I shake his hand. “Thank you for your help.”
“No worries,” he says. He hesitates, about to say something else. “You’re the billionaire on the Post this morning, right? My wife reads that rag.”
Damn Cyrus and Juliette. “I am.” My voice is curt.
He raises his hands. “I just want to tell you how wrong I think it is.” He frowns. “They have no right to be in your business that way.”
“Thanks.” I’m about to add something else, when I see a person I very much want to talk to. Juliette. “Mr. Williams,” I look at the fire chief, “will you excuse me? I need to catch up with someone.”
I’m having the morning from hell. We all are. At the university, Bailey’s worried about being fired. Sebastian is comforting his staff, most of whom are in tears. Juliette didn’t cause either of these two things, but if she was responsible for our picture in the tabloids?
I’m not in the mood to be kind.
Approaching her, I take hold of her elbow. “Juliette,” I tell her, my voice simmering with barely-contained anger. “Can we talk?”
40
All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.
Charles M. Schultz
Bailey:
I go through my day on autopilot. At three, I give up on the grading and head back home. Piper’s sitting on the couch, smothered under a pile of blankets, and Jasper’s fulfilling his role as paperweight, sitting on her stomach, looking smug. “You’re back early,” she says. “How come?”
“I might be getting fired.” I sit on the other end of the couch and draw the blankets over me.
“What? Why?”
I tell her the whole sorry mess. Her eyes get wider and wider as I relate all the events of the crazy day - the plagiarism accusation, the photo in the tabloid, Daniel’s phone call, the ‘I love you’ declaration.
“Wow,” she says when I’m done. “That’s a pretty eventful day. All I had to do was listen to Wyatt Lawless and Owen Lamb tell me that my menu was disorganized and scattered.”
“Ouch,” I say sympathetically. “I hope you told them where to stick it.”
She dismisses her partners with a wave. “Forget them,” she says. “I’m certainly planning to. So, your guys said ‘I love you.’ What happens now?”
“Only Daniel said it,” I clarify. “I still don’t know what Sebastian is thinking.”
She snorts inelegantly. “Sebastian Ardalan is a chef, Bailey. He’s been cooking meals for you? Packing your lunch? Making breakfast? The man loves you.” Her eyes soften. “We cooks tend to show our love with food.”
I think I’m going to cry. If that’s true, that’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. “You think?” Jasper stretches and lurches toward me, deciding that my lap resembles his next bed. I scratch him behind his ears.
“I do,” she says. “Are you stressed about your job?”
“Yeah,” I confess. “I love them, Piper. I really do. And I think that Daniel should fight back.” I sigh. “Still, I’m not looking forward to having my naked pictures all over the Internet.”
Piper gets up. “Where are you going?” I ask her.
“To put the kettle on,” she tells me. “Unless you want hot chocolate instead?”
That sounds amazing. Not as good as being snuggled between Daniel and Sebastian, but it’s a pretty close second. Jasper’s warm body in my lap helps as well. I feel slightly better. “Yes please,” I tell her.
We start spiking our hot chocolate with tequila and peppermint schnapps when Gabby comes over. She’s the only one of our gang who can make it tonight. Wendy’s working and Miki’s been scarce lately. I think her marriage is falling apart, but she won’t talk about it.
The three of us are a sad bunch. I keep glancing at my phone to see if I’ve heard from Sebastian or Daniel. Gabby’s distracted by something as well, though she insists she’s fine. And Piper’s still steaming about the criticism of her menu.
Then, Piper flips on the local news, and we discover that a fire has destroyed most of Sebastian’s restaurant. When I see that, I’ve had enough. I don’t care about the tabloids. I don’t care about Cyrus’ threats or Juliette’s conspiracies. All I care about is being with the men I love.
I rise to my feet, displacing Jasper, who jumps to the ground with an indignant yowl. “Fuck this shit,” I announce. “I’m tired of being miserable here. I’m going to find them.”
I text Daniel and Sebastian. ‘I’m coming over. Don’t try to stop me.’
Daniel replies back within seconds with instructions, because that’s the kind of thing he does. ‘The Plaza, room 221. Want me to send a car?’
‘Subway’s quicker,’ I type, a smile breaking out on my face. ‘See you soon.’
“You have to go see about a boy, Bailey?” Piper giggles, wildly misquoting Good Will Hunting.
I wink at Gabby and Piper. Now that I know I’m going to be seeing Daniel and Sebastian soon, I feel so much better. “Not one boy, ladies. I have to go see about two of them.”
41
The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War
Sebastian:
“I’m so sorry,” she says as soon as I open the hotel room door. “I just saw the news about your restaurant on TV.”
I draw her into my arms and hold her, taking comfort in the feel of her softness, the smell of her hair, the sweet and trusting way her head rests on my shoulder. “I missed you,” I whisper. “What a fucking day.”
We stand there for what feels like hours. Finally, I disentangle us gently, and lead her in. “You hungry?” I ask her automatically.
She smiles at that and she hugs me again. “What’s that for?” I ask, surprised. “Not that that wasn’t very nice, because it was.”
She shakes her head. “Piper said something to me,” she says mysteriously, taking off her coat and tossing it on the back of a couch. She looks around the spacious living room, takes in the three doors leading off it. “Two bedrooms and a bathroom?” she guesses. “You guys don’t know how to do low-key, do you?” Where’s our resident billionaire?”
Her voice is fond, not mocking. “He’s on the phone with Stone Bradley,” I answer. “He’s the investigator.”
She sits on the couch, and pulls me down with her, resting her head on my shoulder again. “Are you okay?” she asks softly. “I know how much that place meant to you.”
“Yeah…” I hold her hand and it feels like home, sitting next to her, talking about our day. “We were lucky. No one except Ben was around.”
“Ben, your problem sous-chef?”
I nod. “I don’t know what he was doing there,” I say. �
�When I was starting out, I would go in on the days I didn’t have to work and try to teach myself new techniques. Maybe he was experimenting with a new recipe…” I swallow, thinking of Ben’s frail body in the hospital. “He’s been badly burned,” I tell her. “He was in a forced coma when we visited, but the doctors think he’s going to make it.” I close my eyes and tighten my grip on her hand. “Had it been any other day of the week…”
Her hand, the one that isn’t tight in mine, strokes my back. “You’re a good person, Sebastian,” she says softly. “What about the restaurant itself?”
“Closed for a minimum of six weeks.” I exhale. “We’ll work through it. We always do.” I bring her hand up to my mouth and touch the soft skin with my lips. “I love you.”
Her eyes twinkle. “I know. Piper told me.”
I’m confused by her words, but not interested enough to sort it out. It’s enough that she knows how I feel. “Clever woman, Piper. I hear she’s driving Lawless and Lamb crazy.”
“Is she? She won’t give me any of the good gossip.” She strokes my cheek. “I love you too, you know.”
The tightness eases in my chest. “That’s good,” I tell her. “That’s really good.”
* * *
There are days when the sex between the three of us is heated and explosive and raw. Today’s not that day. The sex is sweet and sensual, slow and tender. When I part her thighs and taste her, her breath catches. “Sebastian,” she whimpers. “Oh god yes.”
Daniel lowers his mouth over her lush breasts. I see a flash of his teeth as he nibbles at that erect nub, and her reaction makes my dick ache. She pushes her hips against me. “More…” she begs. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not planning on it,” Daniel replies.
Me, I’m enjoying the taste of her too much to break away. She tastes sweet and salty and right. Her body quivers when I peel back her hood and trace a tiny circle over her clitoris. “I’m going to come,” she gasps as I repeat that stroke, over and over. I can feel her tense, her muscles tightening as she nears her climax. Her hands grip tightly at my hair, and she pushes my mouth deeper into her pussy.
Betting on Bailey (Menage MfM Romance Novel) (Playing For Love Book 1) Page 21
