Mr Garcia, page 44
“Nice to meet you, Oliver.” I smile and make a dash for the door, I text Sebastian.
What time is tonight?
A reply bounce’s in:
I don’t expect you to come.
I narrow my eyes. Don’t piss me off, fucker.
Don’t be cute.
What time?
I wait for his answer.
Seven.
Fuck, he’s infuriating. Hot headed twat.
I click out of my phone in disgust. Don’t mess with me today, Sebastian, or I will end you.
“Are you ready?” Sebastian asks.
I hold my hands out. “Do I look ready?”
Sebastian glances over. His eyes skim down the length of me in my evening gown. “How would I know?”
I roll my eyes. I was going to try and make up with him tonight—apologize for not being empathetic enough to his circumstance—but it isn’t even about the Helena secrets now. It’s about him being a fucking pig. I’m not standing for it.
“Where’s my charming husband who tells me that I look lovely?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’s sleeping on the couch.”
I narrow my eyes.
And he’s about to get smothered with said couch cushions.
I fake a smile. “Witty.”
We walk to the door, and he puts his arm out. “Are you ready to act excited to be on my arm tonight?”
I link my arm through his, and he opens the front door. “Not as excited as I am for a drink,” I reply dryly.
He rolls his lips, unimpressed. “You’re turning into a raging alcoholic.”
“Any wonder why.”
We walk down the stairs to see the four guards waiting on the bottom floor. They all drop their heads in tandem, none of them daring to make eye contact with me.
Yellow bellied chickens.
My temper gets an injection of fury.
Damn this man.
He has the entire house staff running scared of his temper, and now he has the hide not to talk to me. Well, he’s too late, because I’m not talking to him.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Garcia,” one guard says.
Good evening,” we both reply with a fake smile.
We walk out to the front of the house. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Garcia,” Kevin says, holding the back door open. Sebastian takes my hand to help me in.
“Hello, Kevin.” I smile as I get into the back seat, and Sebastian gets in behind me. The door closes, and we sit in silence throughout the drive.
I get vivid recollections of how much Sebastian Garcia could infuriate me back in the day. Nobody could wind me up like him.
Nothing’s changed.
Calm, calm, keep fucking calm.
The car pulls up at the ballroom. We get out, and Sebastian takes my hand. We fake more smiles and walk through the crowd as if we are the happiest couple of all.
“Where are our seats?” Sebastian whispers, passing me a champagne from a passing tray.
“What’s wrong, darling?” I whisper, taking a sip. “Tired of holding my hand?”
His angry eyes flick over to me. “I am, actually.”
I glare at him, our eyes locked. “Please, don’t act happy on my behalf.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve acted happy now, would it?”
Adrenaline begins to pump through my system. I lean over to him and put my mouth to his ear. “Keep being an asshole, Sebastian, and this drink is going over your head. I don’t give a flying fuck where we are.”
He narrows his eyes. “Try it and see what happens to you. I dare you.”
I see red. Game on.
“Garcia!” someone calls, interrupting my impending explosion.
“Morton.” Sebastian nods and they shake hands. “This is my wife April.”
I fake a smile. “Hello.” I shake Morton’s hand.
“Congratulations on your marriage. Sebastian talks so fondly of you.” The man smiles.
My eyes flicker to Sebastian. “I’m sure he does.”
Fury blazes in Sebastian’s eyes, and I know for certain that we need to get away from each other before I lose my shit and really do tip my drink over the Prime Minister’s head.
Fucker.
I step back and glance over to see Jeremy who waves.
“I see someone I know. Will you excuse me, please?” I ask the two of them.
“Of course.” Sebastian smiles sweetly. “Please, do take your time.”
I grit my teeth. God help me. “Thank you… sweetheart. You’re always so thoughtful.”
He glares at me, and I glare right back.
I make my way over to Jeremy and kiss his cheek. “You look ravishing.” He coos.
“Thank you. You, too.” I sip my champagne. “I’m about to punch Sebastian in the nose,” I whisper.
“Excellent,” he replies without missing a beat. He glances over to him. “I take it you still aren’t talking.”
“He’s being a prick.”
He shrugs. “Well… he is Sebastian Garcia. What do you expect?”
I roll my eyes. He has the reputation of being an asshole. Tonight, I see why.
Loud and clear.
Four hours later, I glance over at Sebastian sitting beside me in the back of the car. We are on our way home. Sebastian is staring out the window, a million miles away.
We haven’t spoken all night, and the ridiculous part is that we aren’t even fighting over the major issue at hand.
The baby.
I’m confused. I don’t know what’s happening, and I feel like things are unravelling between us at the speed of light.
Both of us are slipping into old habits. Him, silent and bitter. Me, expecting more,
itching to fight.
I hate this.
He drags his hand through his hair. He looks so sad, my heart bleeds. Unable to help it, I reach over and take his hand in his lap. He closes his fingers around it.
“You know that I love you,” I whisper.
He nods softly, remaining silent. His gaze stays out the window to the scenery passing by, and my heart constricts. That was my olive branch.
Nothing in return.
The car pulls up to a halt, and the door opens. Sebastian climbs out and takes my hand to help me out. We walk up the steps and open the front door.
He drops my hand and walks straight up to the bedroom. I hear the shower turn on.
I exhale heavily. God.
I make myself a cup of tea and try to figure out a plan of attack. I don’t want to get into a fight. We’re already at each other’s throat.
I hate this.
I hear the shower turn off. I wait ten minutes before I head into the bedroom, Sebastian is in bed and lying on his side with his back to me. I watch him for a moment before I head into the shower. I don’t know what’s going on in his head. I can only assume it’s not good.
Twenty minutes later, I climb in behind him. His anger has gone, replaced with sadness. Like a river, I can feel it oozing out of him. I slide over and cuddle his back. He stays motionless.
“Seb, darling, are you all right?” I whisper.
“I can’t do this.”
I frown. Do what?
“She can’t have my child, April.”
My eyes well with tears.
“I… I… I can’t hand my child over to her. I didn’t give her this baby. She took it.” His voice cracks, betraying his hurt.
I close my eyes.
Fuck.
What the hell is wrong with me, never once considering what this means for him if it is true? All I’ve been worried about is my selfish self.
I roll him over and take him into my arms to hold him, his head nestled into my neck.
He’s distraught, and rightfully so.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper as I hold him tight. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.” I kiss his temple, “I promise you. It will be okay.”
He stares straight ahead with a cold detachment, and I kiss his neck. I slide my hand lower. We haven’t made love for so long. Perhaps, if we did….
“Don’t,” he murmurs.
“Okay,” I whisper.
He’s too sad, even for sex.
I kiss his forehead as I hold him close. “Go to sleep, Seb. Tomorrow’s a new day. It’s going to be okay.”
I wake with a strange sensation. It’s dawn, and the other side of the bed is empty.
I sit up instantly, my senses on high alert.
I make my way downstairs, where I can hear a muffled voice coming from Sebastian’s study. I creep down the hall to listen.
“Yes,” he says. “That’s right, the arrest warrant has been withdrawn.”
Helena.
My heart begins to beat hard. Why did he have that removed?
Nobody is looking for her.
“You know what to do,” he says calmly.
My eyes widen.
I push the door open in a rush, and he steps back, shocked to see me. He’s fully dressed in his suit, ready for work.
“What are you doing?” he asks sharply.
I stare at him, confused. “What are you doing?”
He marches down the hall. His overnight bag is packed by the front door.
“W-where are you going?” I stammer as I run after him.
“I have to go away for work for a few days.”
Panic surrounds me. “Where to?”
“Winchester.”
Gone is the upset man of last night. This man is cold and calculating.
Determined.
This doesn’t feel right. Something’s going on here.
“I’ll come,” I tell him.
“No, I don’t have time to wait for you to get ready. I have a breakfast meeting. I’ll call you as soon as I get there.” He kisses me softly and brushes the hair back from my face. “I love you.”
I stare at him, fear infiltrating my system.
“Seb.” I hold his hands in front of me. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” I plead.
“I’m going.” He tries to pull away from me.
I hold his hands tighter in mine. “Sebastian.” My eyes search his. “What are going to do?”
“What needs to be done.”
My heartbeat thumps hard in my chest.
Helena’s in danger.
34
April
“W-what does that mean?” I stammer.
“Nothing. I’m going to work. You should, too.” He turns and heads out of the door.
“Seb.”
He turns back.
I open my mouth to say something, but I stop myself. I don’t want this to come out nastily. “Promise me that you won’t do anything… I.” I search for the right words. “Illegal.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Are we going to fight again?”
“No.” I shrug. “I’m just worried about you making a bad decision out of anger.”
“Like what?”
I widen my eyes. I don’t want to say it out loud.
He rolls his eyes. “If I did kill her, she had it coming.” He turns and walks down the steps.
What does that mean?
“That means no, right?” I call.
He gives a subtle shake of his head, and I have no idea if he’s disgusted in me for assuming that’s the plan, or if he’s impressed that I can foresee it.
“Promise me!” I call. “Seb, I mean it.”
He exhales heavily and gets into the back of the waiting car. I watch it drive away, while my mind goes into overdrive.
Right, the gig is up, bitch.
Today, I am busting your lying ass if it’s the last thing I do.
That’s if Sebastian doesn’t have you killed beforehand. And I kind of have to agree with him. You really do have it coming.
I smile and wave as Sebastian’s car pulls out and drives off, and then I run inside and call Jeremy.
“Hey, babe.”
“Oh, my fucking God, Jez. Everything is turning to shit. Can you meet me for breakfast? I need a crisis meeting.”
“Okay, usual place in forty minutes?”
“Yep, see you there.”
An hour later, Jeremy and I are eating breakfast, and I run my hands through my hair.
“This situation is spiraling out of control,” I say quietly. “We can’t find her. We have no confirmation if the baby is his or not, or if there even is a baby, and now he’s retracted the blackmailing charges against her when I know for certain that he is going out of his head with worry.”
“Why would he do that?” Jeremy asks. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t know. It’s fucking strange.”
“It is.” He thinks for a moment. “What does your gut tell you about all this?”
I exhale heavily. “That the baby isn’t his and this is just another attempt from Helena to get more money and upset him.”
“Okay, let’s go back. What are the facts? What makes her story seem plausible?”
“Well, on that night Sebastian called her, there was an eight-minute call from his phone to hers on his register. Then, when he woke up, he didn’t remember anything, but there was a bottle of champagne as well as two wine glasses on the table. And the bed sheets…”
“What about the bedsheets?”
“Sebastian said that, at the time, he thought it was just the smell of strong laundry powder.”
Jeremy rolls his eyes.
“Don’t.” I put my head into my hands. “I know how this sounds.”
“It sounds like he called her for a booty call.”
I think on that for a moment.
“But he wouldn’t have.” I frown with renewed determination. “They broke up because their sex life was shit. He wouldn’t have called her for sex, I know that for certain. If he wanted sexual satisfaction, he would have ordered prostitutes. He has a thing for them.”
Jeremy gives a subtle shake of his head, disgusted. He’s still traumatized about the possibility that Bart slept with two.
My mind begins to race at a million miles per hour.
The more I think about it, the more this story just doesn’t add up.
“I mean, she tried to blackmail him with video footage but why would she go to all that trouble if she was already pregnant, you know?” I say.
“Yeah, you’re right. A baby is the ultimate blackmail tool. It’s not something you throw in when you don’t get the cash handed over.”
“True!” I cry, “That’s so true. Why would you try and blackmail the father of the baby you were carrying?”
“So, maybe she did set him up, which means Bart is an actual fucking scuzbucket,” Jeremy agrees.
I widen my eyes and I want to say, I know that for sure, but I won’t. “How would she have set him up, though?”
He thinks for a moment. “She had the drinks spiked, got him to his room, had him open his phone, and she called her own number from his phone.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “She could have done that, couldn’t she? I hadn’t even thought of that.”
“She could have left all the evidence to make him think that he did it.”
“But surely…” My heart drops. “Surely she would know that we would find out who the father is as soon as the baby is born.” My shoulders slump. “What if it is his baby? What if this is all some grand plan to tie Sebastian to her for life?”
“It could be.” Jeremy sighs, and we stare at each other for a while. “If we just had the security footage of that night at the hotel. I know Bart asked the hotel for it, but they said there wasn’t any.”
I frown. “There has to be some. It’s a five-star hotel. It’s the law.” An idea comes to mind and my eyes rise to Jeremy. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Jez, but what if Bart didn’t want the footage to come out? What if he never even asked for it?”
Jeremy frowns. “You know, that’s a strong possibility.”
“You think?”
“Bart looks after Bart, and if he thought for a moment that there might be something on those tapes that would make me leave him for good, he wouldn’t deliver it, no matter what the consequences. I know he wouldn’t.”
I drag my hands through my hair. “Shit, maybe I should call Penelope and ask her to look at the tapes. I haven’t told her anything about the baby allegations, but maybe it's time I did.” I look at my watch. “Damn it, I have to go to fucking work now.”
Jeremy’s eyes hold mine. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we both just got sever stomach viruses?” I wince.
“Exactly. I’m shitting through the eye of a needle right now, aren’t you?”
I burst out laughing. “You’re what?”
He chuckles. “You get my drift.”
“Not the needle drift, that’s for sure.” I laugh.
I take out my phone. “My god, I’m so getting fired. Since I’ve been with Sebastian, I have had so much time off.”
“Who cares? You’re going to have your own law firm one day and they’ll all be eating your dust.”
I smile over the table at my dear friend. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For always being here for me. It means a lot.”
He gives me a beautiful, broad smile. “What are friends for if not to have fake sick days, bust cheating assholes and conniving ex-wives with?”
I laugh and raise my coffee cup to him. “Cheers to that.”
I knock on Penelope’s door, and she opens it in a rush.
“Hi.” She leans in and hugs me.
“Penny, this is Jeremey. Jez for short,” I introduce them.
“Hey.” She smiles.
“Hello.” He shrugs nervously.
“Come in.” She gestures into her apartment. “Excuse the mess.”
Much to our surprise, Penelope had the day off. When I called and gave her the dates and hotel details, she said to come straight over.
So, here we are.
She pulls two extra chairs up to her computer.
“Here are the hotel details and date. We’ve been told that there is no footage.” I shrug. “I’m not sure if there’s even anything to look at.” I hand her a piece of paper, and man, do I feel sick.
