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Downstairs, I watch TV for a while, flicking from one channel to another. Mrs Johnson pops her head in to say goodnight and then the house falls silent. I try to get into a popular show my friend Juliette recommended, but all I can see is Sebastian’s face.
I’ve not been jealous over a guy before, but the thought of him dating someone wounds me deeply. Poisonous darts ricochet through me and pierce my delicate heart. It doesn’t matter how much I tell myself I have no right to be jealous. I am. Now I regret not being receptive to his offer of friendship, but part of me hates myself for being weak. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so weird about it, he wouldn’t have even gone on a date.
The thought crosses my exhausted mind that maybe he’s doing it to draw the line and show me there can be nothing romantic between us. I’m obsessing again, and he probably hasn’t given me a second thought since he left the house. He’s a single man in his prime, and it was only a matter of time before he started dating.
I should leave and get a new position before this grows any more painful. If he’s seeing someone seriously, he will want to bring her home. If I stay on, I will have to pretend I don’t care, and judging by my performance today, I won’t be able to pull it off.
Juliette texts me to ask if I want to come into London tomorrow. It’s my day off and as much as I’d like to stay and hang out with Sebastian and Daisy after the park, I must create distance between us. If he is dating, I need to get some perspective.
I don’t have the resolve to resign now, but I need a break from thinking about him. Getting away will do me good and so I agree to meet Juliette at her flat the following afternoon.
She teases me a bit when I say we’re going to the park together. Juliette knows I have a crush on my boss and that we had a bit of a thing. What she doesn’t know is how deeply I’ve fallen, but I intend to tell her because I need to talk about my horrible dilemma.
I go to bed and sleep intermittently until I hear him come in. I squint at my phone and see it’s not that late—not even eleven yet. My ears strain for noises, as I listen for whether he’s brought someone home with him. He could do, and I need to be prepared. But the house remains quiet apart from one set of familiar footsteps on the stairs. There’s a pause and I imagine him creeping into Daisy’s room to kiss her goodnight without waking her. And then I hear his footsteps again as he walks towards his bedroom. My heart is sore, but I’m relieved he’s home, and I fall into a restless sleep.
CHAPTER17
Sebastian
My date wished to meet for dinner, so I told my assistant to book whatever restaurant Elizabeth Archer requested.
I arrive ten minutes early and the host shows me to our table in a prominent part of the restaurant.
I don’t know if it’s a coincidence, but she chose a swanky restaurant that is just a few minutes’ walk from my hotel.
I come here occasionally for business lunches but have never been here on a date before. Her restaurant choice says a lot about her. She must like to be seen in the coolest spots. I’m told this place has a long waiting list, but my assistant always gets a table when she drops my name.
They would know my date’s name, too. Archer is one of the most prominent international banking families, and the more high-net-worth people dine here, the better for the restaurant’s publicity. It’s a match made in heaven for everyone but me. Well, possibly not for her either. For all I know, she’s being dragged here kicking and screaming.
I wish I could say I had pre-date nerves because that would mean I was excited. But the reality is I don’t feel anything about this date, other than dead inside.
I understand my responsibilities as a Rochester, but must I really be forced into an arranged marriage and have to pick my future wife like I’m at a cattle market?
It all seems so old-fashioned to me. Damian gave me a pep talk when I vented to him. He said he understands it’s tough, and to just take it as it comes. He suggested maybe I’ll like her, and that marrying a woman with a similar background could be the best thing. Be open-minded, he said.
It’s alright for him, spouting off about what’sbest.
I feel like a sacrificial lamb. My theory is Grandfather is putting all the pressure on me to remarry because I’m the spare, so he has a backup heir in case Damian goes completely off the rails again.
I try to shake off the frustration, and remind myself, it’s not my date’s fault, so it’s not fair to blame her. She’s probably just as irritated by this scenario as me and may not want to date me at all. It’s my grandfather who’s insisting on me meeting her. Bubbles of resentment rise in my chest as I think about our recent conversations.
She’s his number one candidate for me to marry.
No pressure.
It’s Friday evening, and I’d rather be at home, relaxing in the garden watching the sun go down in the bright summer sky, glass of Chablis in one hand. Daisy is most likely tucked up in bed by now.
Before things got complicated, Nathalie would join me for a glass of wine in the garden before dinner, and I loved those evenings most. There’s nothing better after a hectic week at the hotel than chilling at home with your favourite people. And I realise that Nathalie has quickly become one of my favourite people. It was difficult to tear myself away from her this evening, and I saw the pain in her eyes when Daisy asked about girlfriends.
I glance at the Rolex my mother bought me. Elizabeth Archer isn’t late yet, but if she doesn’t arrive in the next few minutes, she will be.
I abhor lateness. There’s no excuse for it, but I realise she may want to be fashionably late and is leaving it to the last minute to make an appearance, so she doesn’t seem too keen.
I sigh. I’ve never enjoyed playing power games, which is another reason I haven’t dated since my marriage ended. In my experience, the best people come into your life organically. I’ve not used a dating app, not that it would be a good idea as a member of the Rochester family. We need to be discreet, which is why I find myself in this situation, about to meet my potential future wife.
Tension grips my chest as I face the reality of what I have to do. If I go with the flow and marry a suitable woman so grandfather gives me his blessing, I will keep my shares and seat on the board and secure my full inheritance. That will make me a billionaire in my own right. Or I could disregard his wishes and take my chances—see where the chips fall.
The host heads my way, and I glimpse a dark-haired woman walking towards me. She’s not a complete surprise—I looked her up online before agreeing to the date, just to be on the safe side. Lucrative collaboration of assets or not, I won’t consider marrying someone I’m not remotely attracted to.
