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“I cannot fucking believe I am going to fucking Tanzania,” Sebastian groused.
It was almost midnight as we stood on the tarmac at the airport. Two private jets owned by Connor were fueled and on the runway. Johnny stood there with an overnight bag; Sebastian had a decidedly larger one.
“There’s no fashion show in Tanzania, Sebastian,” I teased him.
“Do not say a thing to me,” he sniffed, then muttered to himself, “I could be going to Venice…”
“Be careful, okay guys?”
“We’ll be fine,” Johnny said.
A head popped out of the open door of the Africa-bound plane: Stan, one of Connor’s four bodyguards. “You ready to go, Sebastian?”
“I’ll be right there,” Sebastian called, then turned back to me. “Do NOT do anything stupid while we’re gone, Lily. I mean it. Johnny and I are doing this as part of a deal. Your end of the deal is that you’re going to lay low and be there for Connor and not do anything crazy.”
“I know, I know,” I muttered.
“Do I have your word?”
“I already told you yes!”
“I want to hear it again.”
“Yes! I promise!”
“Alright,” Sebastian said, and gave me a little sideways glance. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Be safe,” I said, and gave him a hug. Then I gave one to Johnny. “You, too.”
“We will. See you in a couple of days,” he said.
I watched them board the planes, and then I watched the planes taxi down the runway and take off, one by one. I watched their blinking lights disappear into the night sky, and I felt lost and useless and very, very alone.
