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His eyes find mine, and for a flash, I see guilt there. “Just go, clean yourself up,” he tells her. “If you need stitches, I’ll make sure you get to the hospital.”
The maid gives me a quick glance, then rushes out of the room toward the employee wing.
I’m considering going after her when the back kitchen door swings open and a wave of chilly air slams into me. I’m both stunned and concerned when a tall brunette comes walking, her body teetering on sky-high heels and the tightest red dress I’ve ever seen. Who the hell is this person? A man with a shaved head follows her, wheeling several stacked suitcases in.
“I’m home,” she greets in a liquid honey voice, her eyes all for Sebastian.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, marching over, instantly seeing the way Sebastian’s shoulders go rigid.
Seb looks worse than he did when we left him. His usually lovely curls disheveled and shoved out of his face. He’s changed, his dress shirt partially unbuttoned, and the black sweatpants he’s wearing are totally out of character.
“Sebastian? What’s going on?” I whisper, barely sparing the new woman a glance.
“Nothing. Everything is fine,” he grits out.
The woman steps forward and extends her hand like she wants me to kiss it, but I shake it instead. “Don’t be rude, Sebastian. Who is your little friend?”
Sebastian looks like he’s going to blow a blood vessel at any second, so I save him from defeat and answer myself.
“Maybel Jacobs,” I tell her.
“Mmm, nice to meet you. I’m Tanya Arturo.”
For once, I consider using the Arturo name because she looks like she doesn’t give a shit about anyone without money or power. Her makeup is perfect to accent her brown eyes, her hair perfectly straight down to her butt, not a gray in sight even though she has to be in her late thirties. Something in my gut tells me this woman is bad news, but I have no confirmation or reason to believe it other than Sebastian’s silence and desire to look anywhere but at the woman or even me.
It hits me then. Was this the aunt Sebastian mentioned one time before? What is she doing here? Not that I have much say in if she comes or goes, as this isn’t my home, but if this was a planned visit, indeed Seb would’ve told me ahead of time, right?
“Tanya, I told you not to come here. There are a number of hotels to stay at. You could’ve chosen any one of them.”
“And miss seeing you?” She pouts. “I think not. Plus, this is my home. I deserve to be here as much as you do.”
“Whatever,” he sneers. “Make yourself at home.”
“Great,” she beams and turns, giving me a smile. I’m temporarily frozen, unsure what to do. I feel this unruly desire to protect Sebastian, but I have no idea what I’m protecting him against. Certainly not this Tanya woman. “It was nice to meet you, Maybel. Maybe I’ll be seeing you around?”
“Definitely,” I reply and make a note of the flash of anger that flickers in her eyes.
“Excellent. Let’s go, Marcus.”
The woman snaps at the bald man with her luggage and starts walking, her high heels clacking as she disappears from the kitchen.
What the fuck was that?
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” I step toward him, but he shakes his head, waving at the shine of glass still littering the floor like he needs the distraction.
“Nothing. I got careless. As I told the maid, I’ll clean it up.”
“Her name is Elyse, and I’m not just referring to the glass. That woman, who is she, and what happened?” I take a deep breath, realizing I’ve just hit him with a lot all at once. “No one would fault you for losing it after everything that happened today.”
“I don’t give a shit what her name is,” he snaps and then sighs almost as if he’s defeated. “I’m fine, Bel. Don’t worry about me, and don’t worry about Tanya. She’s no one, and she’ll be out of our lives as fast as she entered it if I have anything to say about it.”
I feel like there’s this vast distance between us, and I hate it. I know he’s only being an asshole to push me away, and he can be however he wants to be, but I want to make certain he knows I’m not going anywhere. Against his wishes, I take a step forward and wrap my willowy arms around his middle, hugging him as tightly as I can.
“Sebastian. I’m here. When you’re ready, I’m here. And I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”
At first, it’s like hugging a two-by-four, his entire body tense and unmoving, but then he presses his face to the top of my head, the tension easing from his body. I wish the moment would last longer, but it ends as quickly as it happens.
Taking a step back, he severs the connection.
