Page 32 of Hate To Be Mine

I heard footsteps on the sand and immediately tried to stop crying. No way. No way would I make the situation worse by letting them see me like this.

Thankfully, the footsteps passed by without pausing. Whoever it was hadn’t seen me. They didn’t know I was there.

And they sure as hell didn’t care.

They were all just glad I was out of their way.

I pulled out my phone, thinking maybe I could call someone. But who? My father would just yell at me. I didn’t have friends close enough to call with something like this. Annika had been kind, but she wasn’t my friend—she was Sebastian’s friend and loyal to the company.

I was truly, completely alone.

The thought made me cry harder, which made me angry at myself for being so weak, which made me cry more because I was tired of being strong all the time. I was so tired of being the bad guy and carrying my father’s expectations that only amplified my own insecurities.

I just wanted someone to be kind to me. Just once. Just for a moment.

But I’d burned that bridge before I’d even crossed it.

13

SEBASTIAN

By mid-afternoon, the shoot had found its rhythm. After the disastrous start, we finally settled into a productive groove. Clarissa looked incredible in Elizabeth’s designs. The colors worked with the natural landscape, and all of it was coming together better than I’d hoped. Was it exactly what I planned out on my storyboard? No. But it was definitely working.

Elizabeth stood beside me, watching the monitor as the photographers worked through a series of group shots with Clarissa, Tempest, and Portia. The three models had great chemistry together, playing off each other naturally, making the clothes look like something any woman would be lucky to wear.

“This is beautiful,” Elizabeth said softly, her eyes bright. “Sebastian, this is exactly what I imagined. Better, even.”

The praise was everything. It was the validation I had been looking for. “Your designs make my job easy. They photograph like a dream.”

“Don’t downplay what you’re doing. The composition, the way you’re directing the models, and the locations you chose are all working together perfectly.”

I wanted to point out that one of my location choices could have gotten someone hurt, but I kept my mouth shut. We were having a moment. A good moment. I wasn’t going to ruin it with self-deprecation or reminders of this morning’s drama.

“Thanks,” I said instead. “That means a lot.”

She squeezed my arm, then went back to watching the shoot with a smile on her face. I couldn’t screw this up. Not for her. Not for any of them.

“Alright!” I called out once we’d gotten the shots we needed. “Let’s wrap on this setup and move to the lagoon. We’ve got maybe three hours of good light left.”

“Lunch!” someone called out.

Shit. I did have to allow them the chance to eat. That was in the contracts.

“Thirty minutes,” I said. “Seriously, guys, we need to keep going.”

There was some grumbling as people left their equipment and moved together as a group down to the craft services tent.

I grabbed one of the turkey wraps from the table and a bottle of water, then found a spot in the shade where Elizabeth was already sitting. She’d gotten the same thing I had, though hers looked significantly more appetizing than mine. I was pretty sure mine was mostly lettuce. After the beer binge the night before, I had to give my gut a break.

“It’s going well,” she said between bites.

I nodded. “So far so good.”

“What’s the next spot?”

“It’s that’s pretty lagoon I showed you.”

Elizabeth’s smile brightened. “Oh, I love that spot. I forgot that was on today’s schedule.”