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He stares at me.
“I’d been dating all these supposedly great guys who said they loved me. Then there was you, telling me you didn’t want me, acting like you hated me, treating me terribly, wanting me to be your whore… but deep down, I always knew.”
He drops his head as if overwhelmed with emotion. “Knew what?”
“That you and I would end up together on a beach on the Maldives one day.”
He breaks into a slow, sexy smile. “Hungover?”
“Only one of us is hungover.”
His eyes twinkle with a certain something. “The other one is smitten.”
I smile at the beautiful man in front of me. His eyes oozing with honesty. His hair windswept and wild. “I do love you, Seb. So much.”
“Show me.” He rolls us over so that I’m on top of him.
I sit up, my legs on either side of him, our most sensitive parts touching. I stare down at the beautiful man shining in the moonlight. “You’d better undo that fly on your pants, Mr. Sandman.”
He chuckles, and I go up onto my knees to give him room to move. He struggles and unzips his suit pants. “Now what?” He smiles up at me.
I pull my panties to the side. “We do this.” I slide down onto him.
He looks up at me in awe. “I like that we’re doing this.”
I smile, the double meaning not lost. “Me, too.”
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.
Hmm, what’s that?
“Hello,” Sebastian answers in a husky voice. He stands and walks over to the window and peers out onto the street below as he listens to whoever is on the phone. “Is he all right?”
He falls silent.
I rub my eyes as I watch him. Who’s he talking to?
“I’ll be on the first plane home.” He nods and turns. His eyes find mine. “See you soon.” He hangs up.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“They found Theodore.”
I smile. “Great.”
“He’s dead.”
26
April
I blink in surprise. “What?”
“He committed suicide. They found his body in a rental car in a forest in the north.”
My heart constricts. “Oh no. When?”
“It looks like a while ago. Probably as soon as he went missing.”
“God.” I sigh sadly.
“I have to go home.” He walks into the walk-in wardrobe and retrieves his suitcase.
“Of course.”
“You’re having a good time. Stay with the others. Fly home with them and I’ll meet you back in London.” He puts his suitcase up on the desk and begins to throw his things into it.”
“No, I’m coming with you.” I stand and retrieve my suitcase.
“It’s not necessary,” he mutters, completely distracted with his packing.” I can feel his stress levels skyrocketing by the second.
“Seb.” I hug him from behind. “I’m leaving with you.”
He turns and takes me into his arms. We stay silent for a while, just holding each other.
Suicide. Is there a worse death? So much sadness. So much pain.
“I’ll pack our things. You organize the flight,” I say with renewed purpose.
“Okay.” He kisses me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I smile up at him. “Promise me that we can come back here.”
“I promise.” He pulls out of our hug and gets on his phone. “Hello, I need two seats on the first plane to London.” His eyes flick over to me. “Yes, chartered, if possible.”
He listens. “Three hours?”
I nod.
“Yes, okay, thank you.”
The plane lands on the runway. We’ve arrived in London.
I look over to Sebastian who has said two words the entire flight home. He’s staring straight ahead, leaning back against the headrest, lost in his own thoughts. There’s a deep sadness is within him. It’s circling around the both of us, taunting me of the happy weekend we’ve lost.
I wish I could say something worthy, something to make this all better, but there is nothing, so I stay silent.
Apparently, there are already whispers in the media. Bart has also called ahead to tell us the press is at the airport waiting for an update from their beloved Garcia. I guess they realize that if he’s coming home early, something big is going down.
Poor Theodore.
How the hell does Sebastian announce to the world that Theodore is now dead when he’s been assuring them that he was fine?
I drag my hand down my face. God, this is a fucking nightmare.
I feel guilty for leaving Bart alone in this when he needs me most. Maybe I’ll work behind the scenes for him this week.
The plane comes to a stop, and Sebastian stands and fusses around in the overhead. He retrieves his suit bag and goes to the bathroom to freshen up. When he returns, his thick, black hair is neat, his suit is crisp, and his beautiful face is grim.
He’s ready for business.
There are two versions of Mr. Garcia: the one the world knows. The hard ass, workaholic who has a secret penchant for high class hookers. Then there’s my Seb. The loving man who makes me feel like the most beautiful woman on Earth.
