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For the rest of the day, it’s like this. The three of them, knowing what to do, collaborating and discussing, and then there’s me. When Drake brings us a bunch of soups and breadsticks, I hardly have any appetite.
At six o’clock, Sebastian stands to stretch, and pulls me aside. “Are you okay, Elianna?”
“I can’t exactly talk things over right now.” I make a pointed look at Gordon and Rowena behind him. “But I’m okay. Just tired.”
His brows squeeze together in sympathy. “You feeling sick again like you were before?”
“Nope. No. Just worn out.”
He frowns and for a brief moment, a flash of agony appears on his face, and I let myself believe, for a bit, that he really does care.
Without warning, he cups my cheek with his left hand, his gaze dipping down to my mouth. With a start, he drops his hand and rotates to face the others.
“It’s been a long day, I’m going to let Elianna go home and get some rest. It’s good to take a breather and recharge, right, Elianna? Gordon, I think there’s some more new hire paperwork for you to do downstairs, and Rowena and I have an online Master Mind group to attend. So, looks like you’re free to go, Elianna.”
Freeto go.It sounds ominous. Final.
I guess maybe I am. I reach out to shake his hand, and he gives me another quizzical look, but then I grab my stuff and am out the door before another word can be said.
I’ve got the Capistrano Valley Players group pulled up on Marco Polo before I’ve even gotten to my car.
“Hey guys,” I say, my voice sounding hollow, like it belongs to someone else. “Still need some help with Twelfth Night?”
Chapter 33
Sebastian
It’s seven a.m. when I make the very long trip from my suite to my office—a whole four steps.
Maybe Elianna knew what she was talking about, with the whole work-life balance thing. I think it will be good to get some distance from work when my house is done. I haven’t been able to check on it much lately, with my goals consuming me. But as soon as I can take a breather, I’m meeting with a designer in Denver to pick all my colors.
Which sounds about as fun as shoving a toothpick up my fingernail, but it has to be done. I’d love to bring Elianna along since I know she has better taste in those things than I ever could.
I work for a whole twenty minutes before I notice a thin, pink envelope on the corner of my desk, peeking out from under my bag. Before I even touch it, I know it’s from Elianna.
Sure enough, it’s her curly, animated handwriting on the front. I use my letter opener, slicing through the paper as my unease grows.
Dear Sebastian,
Thank you for all you’ve done for me and for giving me the job. I need to go back to Dana Point. I’ll be working on obtaining grants for the theater there. I’m sorry for the mistakes I made. Looks like Gordon’s got things covered now, though. Best wishes to you and to Tate International. I’ll be cheering you on.
Love,
Elianna
I’m not used to losing, and my first flare of anger comes from that. But it only takes a moment for my hands to start shaking and my heart to start pounding.
She’s leaving.
How can she just leave like this? We’ve been through a lot together. I care for her. I’m falling in love with her. And she just up and leaves when it gets hard?
Not me. I sit in the trenches, and I don’t back down when things get hard. You see me quitting after some disastrous events threaten to derail my goals?
We didn’t even talk about what happened with the messed-up calendar. I should have called her back when I was in Chicago. And I could have checked my own calendar. It’s unconscionable that I didn’t double-check the date that Home Away from Home was coming before I left for Chicago.
Still, she’s just leaving without talking to me? Without saying goodbye.
Anger, white and cold, clouds my thoughts as I work throughout the morning.
