Page 14 of Hate To Be Mine

“I’m not interested in Bernadette like that.”

“Of course not.”

“I’m serious. She’s a complication I don’t need. This whole thing is complicated enough without adding drama.”

“Without adding feelings?”

“Without adding anything.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Look, I have a reputation. I know what people think. Playboy Sebastian, can’t keep it in his pants, distracted by anything in a skirt. And maybe that’s been true in the past. But not this time. This time I’m focused. I’m just trying to do that whole honey versus vinegar thing. I have to be nice to keep her from riding me too hard.”

Shit. That was a thought I did not need in my head.

“I mean, the only way I know how to make people like me is to flirt. It’s my default.”

Annika looked at me with a soft smile. “You know what I think?”

“That I’m a hopeless case?”

“I think you’re harder on yourself than anyone else is. And I think maybe you use all that partying and those women as a way to avoid thinking too hard about what you actually want.”

“Wow. Are you moonlighting as a therapist now?”

“I’m old. Old ladies are naturally good at cutting through bullshit.” She squeezed my arm. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” I muttered.

“Now get out of my workshop. I have actual work to do.”

I left, walking back through the Blackwell building with my mind churning. The campaign. The rules. The insurance. Bernadette in that sundress, looking nothing like the uptight woman who’d slid that binder across the conference table.

No. Focus.

“You ever going to settle down, Sebastian?” It was a ghostly whisper through my mind.

The question had been asked a dozen times before, by my mother, by friends, by former flames who’d wanted more than I was willing to give. My answer was always the same.

Maybe when I’m dead.

Because settling down meant vulnerability. It meant letting someone see past the charm and the smile and the carefully constructed image of the playboy rich guy. It meant risking being hurt. I didn’t like pain. I wasn’t one of those guys.

Better to keep moving. Keep it light. Keep it fun.

Even if, sometimes, I wondered what it might be like to have what Adrian had found with Elizabeth. That easy intimacy. That sense of being known.

It wasn’t in the cards for me, though. I wasn’t that guy.

6

BERNADETTE

Ifelt like I had just been on a whirlwind shopping spree and I didn’t spend a penny. Despite my insistence I pay, Annika assured me there was no way she could sell me the pieces. They were all samples and would only end up in some storeroom if I didn’t take them.

It was hard to argue with that logic.

And I had felt so pretty. I never wore color. I never showed off my shoulders. I’m not sure when I turned into a prude dresser, but after wearing all those pretty things and putting my pantsuit on, I saw it. I saw what the world saw.

Mundane.

Inconsequential.