The Love Campaign (Romantic Revelations Series Book 1)

by Laura Marquez Diamond

  She wished she could go back to sleep but now felt the need to go to the bathroom. Great. She should start the process immediately since the crutches slowed her down so much.

  Jaya gently swung her legs over the side of the bed, her left ankle in a soft splint, and remembered Sebastian’s warning.

  “You’re going to be tempted to hobble around without crutches tomorrow,” he predicted. “Don’t. The first three days are important to keep your weight off. Got it?”

  “You’re just repeating what the doctor said,” she uttered.

  “Yeah, you weren’t listening then, either,” was his response, while shaking his head.

  She snorted at the memory of their exchange because he was right. The doctor gave instructions, but she was too busy thinking about how much the injury would be an inconvenience. Right after the fundraising kick-off was exactly the worst time to slow down.

  For a Saturday night, it was quiet at the urgent care. She appreciated the fact that Sebastian didn’t have to stay with her the whole time, but did anyway. And he wasn’t joking about his knowledge of ankle injuries, ably interrogating the doctor about her symptoms and home care. Even with the relatively quick medical attention, it was past one in the morning when she thanked Sebastian and closed her front door. But by then, he had extracted a handful of promises that she would use the damn crutches.

  Her head filled with the memory of Sebastian leaning on her doorway, looking tired and ruffled and worried and—she could admit this before the clarity delivered by caffeine took hold—hot as the devil. With the top buttons of his shirt undone, the hard planes of Sebastian’s chest peeked out. She looked away only to find herself staring at his pink mouth that he had absentmindedly licked. How dare he?

  She knew she was being ridiculous. Just because his lips were glistening and his heavily lashed eyes were hooded, it didn’t mean anything beyond worry. Which was sweet, actually. His expression, so uncharacteristically intense it felt like a secret between them, warmed her in ways she didn’t expect.

  Jaya rubbed her sleepy eyes. Her alarm clock read 11:14 a.m., but she felt no urgency to start the day. She wouldn’t be able to go to the gym anyway, so Jaya took the rare opportunity to crawl back into bed and read. She grabbed her phone just as she started to lie down, thinking to open some of those Kindle books she had saved.

  That’s when she saw them. Notifications. Texts. And more notifications for views. For comments. Missed calls. Lots of missed calls.

  And from everyone! From friends old and new, people from work, her brother, her mom, and aunties. Jaya’s screen looked like a patchwork of every part of her life. It didn’t make sense.

  She started to scroll through the notifications. There were different hashtags, but the ones with the most views and comments were #hotbeau, #cinciromance, and #hockeygent. They all referenced a series of pictures from last night.

  Pictures. Of her and Sebastian. A picture of them on the bench laughing. Another picture of her body leaning back as he held her legs over his thighs. But most of the likes and comments and retweets were in response to those of Jaya cradled in his arms.

  Whatever foul magic made an innocent gesture of assistance look so…so incriminating…she could not fathom. Because if she had to admit it to herself, there were at least two of Sebastian carrying her that looked like they were making out. Her arms were around his neck and their faces seemed to be touching. She knew for a fact they didn’t kiss, but even she had to look twice!

  From one angle, you could tell they weren’t kissing, but the picture was no less suggestive. Her hair had loosened from its pins and draped over his arm, partially obscuring Jaya’s face. But Sebastian’s profile was bathed in soft lighting, holding an expression solemn and intense. His jaw was sharp like carved stone, his nose slightly flared, and those half-mast eyes focused on her face. His lips were parted, as if he was gasping mid-breath. He was looking down at her like she was dinner, and he was a very, very hungry man.

  Seventeen thousand views and climbing by the second.

  Jaya was contemplating the likelihood of death by embarrassment when two more notifications for missed calls were added to the pile. Her mom and Shirley.

  Shirley was less likely to scold her and might help process this craziness, so she tapped the call button. It didn’t even ring before Shirley’s voice piped into her ear. “You have so much explaining to do!” she declared with a tone of reprimand and glee.

  “I, um, I honestly don’t even know what to say. I woke up and…” something roiled in Jaya’s stomach. “Wait, you knew it was me right away? I wasn’t tagged or anything. At least I don’t think I was. Was I?” Jaya spluttered her disordered thoughts. She figured that her family and friends would probably recognize her in those pictures, even from a distance and in a dark profile, but not right away. Not if she didn’t point it out.

  But the calls from her family made clear that the recognition was instant. How did her inner circle get wind of this thread so quickly? How was she even linked to it when she hardly knew more than a few dozen people in the whole city?

  Shirley must have read her thoughts. “The post tagged the Freedom Community Center. We went from under a thousand followers to ten times that as of this morning. Whoever took those pictures knew it was Sebastian and knew he was there for the fundraiser.”

  “OK, so they have no interest in me, right? I mean no one knows who I am. This is about Sebastian.” She sighed in relief.

  Shirley was quiet on the other end, but only for a beat. “Did you, um, read the comments?”

  Jaya’s only answer was a groan.

  “No, no, it isn’t anything bad!” Shirley continued. “It’s adorable actually. You’re trending as a couple,” she burst out.

  “A what?”

  “You know. Like, dating. Didn’t you see the #cinciromance thread?”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Jaya snorted out. “They could easily find pictures of Sebastian with his tongue down a woman’s throat every night. You could probably search for one of those pictures from last Friday. There’s nothing about this that’s like dating or romancing or whatever.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ,” Shirley retorted. “First of all, he’s carrying you. How unbelievably romantic is that? With the fountains in the background and your gorgeous outfit, it looks like a wedding picture, for goodness’ sakes.”

  Jaya’s phone notified her of an incoming call. It was her brother. OK, she could use her brother’s calm energy right now.

  “Shirley, can I call you back, please? I have to get this.”

  “Is it Sebastian?” Shirley asked giddily.

  “No! He doesn’t even have my number! It’s my brother. I’ll call you right back.”

  “But…”

  Jaya cut Shirley off.

  “Hey, Rajiv,” she answered.

  “Wow, she’s taking my call. What did I do to deserve such special treatment?” he retorted. He was teasing but there was no denying the annoyance in his voice.

  Her brother was on speaker, so Jaya saw the next text scroll through her screen.

  Shirley: You didn’t let me finish. That look he gave you. Lady, that doesn’t happen in most lifetimes so I don’t think that happened last Friday.

  Ugh. This was fine. Everything is fine, Jaya repeated to herself. Fine, fine, fine…

  “Have you talked to Mom?”

  Not fine. “No,” she answered. “Have you?”

  “She’s been trying to reach you. But since you don’t answer your phone, guess who she decided to bother at nine in the morning. On a Sunday.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what’s going on. I thought my phone was broken and just looked at it a few minutes ago,” she could hear more notifications. “Fuck, my phone is blowing up.”

  “Yeah, something’s definitely blowing up, genius,” Rajiv said. “And you didn’t even tell me about him. Sebastian Beaumont?! Seriously? The Thrashers centerman that annoyed you every time he dropped off equipme
nt. So, when did this happen?”

  “There’s no this!”

  “What do you mean there’s no this?” His tone was incredulous. More gently, he added, “You don’t need to explain anything to me, little sis, but you better find a way of explaining this to Mom. Because she’ll be asking you way harder questions. Was it just one-time, or what?”

  “There’s not even a one time. I sprained my ankle and he helped me get to urgent care. That’s it!”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What do you mean, hmmm?” She was rather trite now. Her older brother was usually a calming influence on her irate temperament, but not today. Nope. Today, even non-words set her on edge.

  Rajiv wasn’t just her brother, he also happened to be one of her best friends. He still lived in Detroit not far from where they grew up. He was their parents’ dream child—handsome, athletic, well-mannered, and brilliant. Even though his perfections only emphasized her imperfections, she adored him.

  Barely thirty, he finished his degree in record time, specialized in pharmacy, and fell in love. His college sweetheart for the last six years was a beautiful woman who also happened to be from their Gujarati community. Lakshmi was kind, brilliant, and responsible. They were an ideal couple and would be getting married that upcoming August. Only her brother’s unequivocal awesomeness kept her from cursing his perfect life.

  Unlike Jaya’s life, which was far from perfect, according to her parents’ standards. They supported her through college but let her know that they didn’t fully approve of her career choices, which her father called “precarious” and that her mother considered “depressing.” Their hesitation about social work baffled Jaya. Her family always believed in giving back to the community as volunteers. Which is how Jaya found her calling to begin with. But as a career, this was not their first choice for her.

  Their disappointment was part of why she left Detroit and took the job in Cincinnati. She could work with underprivileged kids anywhere. But she decided to do it from somewhere other than from under the glare of her parents’ judgment.

  She chose Cincinnati because her friend from undergrad, Molly Eastwood, came back to live in the area after they graduated from the University of Michigan. Molly’s degree in film studies landed her a good position as a graphic designer and publicist for a consulting company. She convinced Jaya that the city would be a great place to start over.

  Molly! “Holy shit,” Jaya declared.

  “Yup,” her brother said.

  “No…I mean, ugh. Shit, I need to go,” she stuttered.

  “Call Mom. Or she won’t stop calling me.”

  “I will but I need to call someone else first. If Mom reaches you, can you just tell her about my ankle, please? Then she won’t worry, and this will blow over eventually.”

  “Yeah, OK. How bad is it, anyway? Your ankle,” her brother inquired.

  “Honestly? Less painful than the call I’m about to make,” she declared.

  But she had to call. Though perhaps Molly hadn’t heard about this, so there was no need to bring it up? Maybe? Nah, that was wishful thinking. No way this wouldn’t end up on her radar. Molly followed Sebastian’s social media pages, the Thrashers hockey team links, and pretty much anything trending in Cincinnati.

  Might as well get the call out of the way. She could easily explain the circumstances to people who knew her. She scrolled her unread texts and, sure enough, one was from Molly. Call me was her message. Jaya gulped and made the plunge.

  Again, not even a ring. What was up with that?

  “Well?” Molly’s voice was ice.

  “Hi, Molly,” Jaya said. “I guess you saw the pictures.”

  “Yes, I saw the pictures,” Molly said but then sighed. “I’m…I’m not mad or anything. I just wish you told me that this was happening.”

  Jaya groaned at the undeniable hurt in Molly’s voice.

  “It is not at all what it looks like. Nothing happened! We were at the fundraiser, you know the one I told you about. For the Freedom Community Center. Anyway, I hurt my ankle and he insisted on picking me up so it wouldn’t get worse. That’s it. Nothing else happened.”

  A humorless chuckle came from the line. “That’s it, huh.” Molly’s voice didn’t hide her cynicism. “I know a little something about Sebastian Beaumont picking up and I’m pretty sure something always happens.”

  Eww, Jaya thought, but kept the yucky reaction to herself. Before Jaya could contest her point again, Molly declared, “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m seeing Rob now and it’s going well. What do I care if you and Sebastian are hooking up?”

  “Once again…”

  “But I have to warn you, Jaya,” she interrupted. “He’s bad news. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Because it felt easier to agree instead of repeating her pointless corrections, and because she was relieved that Molly wasn’t furious at her, Jaya muttered, “I hear you.”

  “Look, I’m not mad or anything but I just wish I didn’t find out through Twitter and Instagram, you know? I thought we were friends.”

  “We are! Like I said…”

  “I’ll let you go.”

  “Molly,” Jaya pleaded.

  “Just, let’s talk in a few days, OK? I wanna, you know, focus on my own thing right now. With Rob.” Not waiting for Jaya to comment, Molly hung up.

  She knew she wasn’t done explaining herself for the day. There were her parents to contend with. How it even got in front of their screens, she couldn’t figure. Wait. Shirley said something about the community center getting tagged. That must be it. Her whole family was plugged into her workplace campaign. Damnit.

  This fiasco was definitely an inconvenience for her, but more importantly, it could be a terrible distraction from the serious work they were trying to accomplish. The kids. What would they think about all this? How would it affect them? Her greatest worry was that the integrity of the campaign could be in jeopardy. She couldn’t live with herself if this stupidity derailed the creation of a safe and enjoyable place for the kids to grow, to thrive.

  Before she could figure out how the misunderstanding affected the community center and the campaign, she first had to wrap her mind around exactly what the hell happened.

  Taking a deep breath, Jaya plunged into the chaotic waters and wrenching tides that were social media to figure out what people were seeing and saying. The messages to Freedom Community Center DMs were more in one morning than she had seen all of last year, but she didn’t open them. Instead, Jaya started from the first tweet and worked her way through the threads and comments. An hour later, she still hadn’t come up for air.

  In fact, she might have languished in Twittersphere, ignoring every call and text and message that pinged her phone, had it not been for the knock on her door.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sebastian Beaumont knocked on Jaya’s door, where he dropped her off approximately twelve hours prior.

  She didn’t answer right away, but he knew for a fact she was in there. He just knew. Not in the calculated sense of knowing she had crutches and didn’t own a car and normally walked to work and all that. He knew because from the mother-in-law suite she was renting at the walk-up of this old Victorian home in the middle of Cincinnati, he could almost feel the hostility emanating in waves. Like a force field.

  “What do you want?” a voice demanded from behind the force field.

  “Jaya, can I come in?” he asked. “Please.” Nothing in response. He tried again. “I’m guessing you saw it.”

  “Oh, I saw it,” she retorted.

  “We should talk.”

  Did he hear or did he imagine the snort through the thick door? It hardly mattered. “Look, if you don’t want to talk, I’ll leave,” he announced. “I just wanted to see if you were OK. Also, I brought you a quiche.”

  Sebastian heard thudding sounds like she was hopping. Closer to the door, her voice piped, “A what?”

  “Quiche. Vegetarian. You’re not allergic to anything, a
re you?”

  Instead of an answer, Sebastian heard the satisfying sound of the lock turning. Jaya opened the door, and it took a moment for him to register what he was seeing.

  Jaya was standing on her right, uninjured leg. She must have just gotten out of bed. A long braid snaked over a shoulder but barely held in place the thick black halo that framed her scrubbed face. Her brows were arched and thick, eyes enormous like Bambi’s, and lips as pink and full as ever.

  Without make-up and work clothes, she was striking in an entirely different way. Her round face was youthful and fresh, but with a rack like that. Shit. She had a long-sleeved shirt and fuzzy pajama pants, but no bra. The way her substantial chest moved with every breath, he momentarily forgot why he was there. The stark pebbles of her nipples pressed against her shirt.

  “You’re not wearing any…crutches,” he managed to grumble.

  After what seemed like a paranoid glance behind him, Jaya tilted her head to indicate that he should come in. He located the crutches by the sofa. By the time she closed the door behind him, he had put the quiche on a counter and delivered crutches to her. “You’re supposed to be using these,” he griped again.

  She sighed and positioned them under her arms. Sebastian looked up at the ceiling because the way the crutches hitched against her shirt made the roundness of her breasts impossible to miss. This woman’s body was kryptonite.

  It would take superhuman powers for him to get through the next hour, which was about as long as he figured he would need to get her to listen to his proposal. There was business to take care of, arguments to be made, concessions to consider, yada, yada.

  Focus, Sebastian said to himself. “Can I sit down?” he asked.

  She gestured at the sofa and then plopped herself down on a ratty old club chair across.

  “Well?” she started with a sigh.

  “So,” he responded cautiously, “what did you see?”

  Jaya seemed to rev her engine towards angry town. It was hard to miss the flash of fire behind those eyes. He braced himself for her wrath. But then the light faded. What happened, instead, was worse.