Page 99 of Hate To Be Mine

I stepped aside. His hands were shoved in his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I shouldn’t have hit him,” he said immediately. “I lost it. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Bernadette. I know I screwed everything up.”

“It’s not about Rico,” I said, my voice flat. Tired. Like a woman who felt wrung out and empty, the way something does after it’s been used up. The tank had tun dry. My soul felt hollow.

He looked at me. “Tell me.”

“It’s about you. You can’t afford to act like this. Not here. Not on this shoot. Not ever. You have too much on the line to allow yourself to freak out over something I could have dealt with.”

“He was harassing you,” he said with a growl, shoulders tensing.

“And I was handling it!” My voice rose. “I’ve been handling men like Rico my entire life. You think this was the first time some creep tried to get me alone? The first time someone got too handsy? I know how to take care of myself, Sebastian. What I can’t handle is you losing control and jeopardizing everything.”

He flinched like I’d hit him. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me!” I threw my hands up. “I need you to be steady. Dependable. To think before you act. My career is on the line here. This job is my life. My family. And I can’t be the woman who screws up a multi-million-dollar campaign because she got involved with a man who can’t control himself. It’s your career as well, I might add. You risked everything because your ego couldn’t handle another guy touching me. I think I should remind you we’re not a thing. No one should be sacrificing their jobs for a couple nights of good sex.”

“That’s not fair. It was great sex and you know it.”

It really had been, but I couldn’t get distracted by how insanely hot he was in bed. The physical side of things had never been the problem. It was everything outside the bedroom that tripped us up.

“My father wants to pull me from this job,” I said quietly. “And he’s probably right to. I’ve compromised everything. My objectivity. My professionalism. My credibility.”

“We can fix this,” he said.

I could hear the pain in his voice. It tugged at my heart, but I couldn’t let myself give into what I felt. I had to be logical. Practical. I needed to be the insurance robot Sebastian had accused me of being.

“Everyone knows something happened between us. You got into a fight defending my honor like some kind of medieval knight.”

“I couldn’t help myself. I just saw red.” He reached for me and I stepped back. If he touched me, I’d break. I’d give in. I’d forgive him and we’d fall back into bed and nothing would be solved.

“I think it’s best if we cool off until all this is over,” I said, forcing my emotions into a tight little ball. “You need to get through the runway show. Then we can try to pick up the pieces later. If there’s anything left to salvage.”

“Bernadette, will you please let me talk?”

I nodded. “Yes, just not right now. I’m trying to figure out how to keep your policy valid while not losing my job at the same time. Not to mention my family. My whole life is on fire, so I can’t do this right now. I can’t handle you and my father and my job all falling apart at once.”

“You want space?” he asked, eyes narrow as he looked at me.

“No, but I need it.” I shook my head. “I messed up and my life is in shambles. I literally don’t know what I’ll be flying home to in a few days, so, yeah, I need a little time to sort my stuff out.”

He looked at me like a sad puppy that just had its favorite fluffy taken away. I saw the sadness in his eyes. Hurt. Regret. Then he nodded slowly, schooling his features and collecting himself right in front of me.

The model was back. The man that could turn it on and off for the cameras was standing in front of me now.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Then I will respect your wishes.” He walked to the door, paused with his hand on the knob. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And if there’s any way I can help fix things, just say the word.”

Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him, and I was alone again.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, my whole body shaking. Then I collapsed onto the couch and let myself cry. I let it all out. I mourned the job I was probably going to lose. I threw a little pity party over the father who never respected me. And for the man I’d just sent away because I was too much of a mess to fight for what I wanted.

I cried for everything I had lost in the span of twenty-four hours.

Tomorrow, I would figure out how to put the pieces of my life back together.

Tonight, I grieved.

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