Seb (2 page)

“I’m a graphic designer. You know, websites, brochures, logos, stuff like that. No offense, but your website is kind of a hot mess.”

I laughed. Damn, that sounded almost foreign to my ears. “I’m not surprised. I had some guy set it up about seven years ago, and it hasn’t been touched since.” But since most of my business came through word-of-mouth advertising, my website wasn’t high on my priority list. “But I’m not too worried about it. If you live in Florida and are into vintage cars, you already know my name and reputation.” My lips tipped up when she raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m not being cocky, just stating facts.”

“I know.” She sighed. “But still, there must be something I could do for you. I mean, look at this place. It’s a mess.”

“Maybe I like it that way.” I’d been walking around in a fog so long I’d barely noticed my office.

“Do you?”

I shrugged. “That’s irrelevant. What if I don’t have any ‘work’ for you?” I made air quotes around the word. “How do you intend to repay me if I agree to work on your uncle’s car? A restoration like this is bound to be expensive. Hell, it’d probably take you years to pay it off.”

“I know.” She bit her lip. “He’s just given me so much love and support, Seb. This is the only thing I can think to do for him. Seeing that car restored…”

“I get it.” If anyone understood the thrill of seeing a vintage beauty restored to its former glory, it was me. “Your uncle always been into classic cars?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Since he was a teenager. He told me he and my grandfather used to work on them together all the time.”

My old man had been a deadbeat, so I’d learned about cars the old-fashioned way, through trial and error. But right now, the clock was ticking, and I couldn’t commit to something like this without speaking to my production manager. He was the one who scheduled our jobs and made sure we met our deadlines. We were already booking six months out, so squeezing her job in would be difficult if not impossible.

“Skylar, I understand how important this is to you and I’d really like to help you out, but—”

“Please don’t say no,” she whispered, stepping closer. “I’ve already been to see your competitors and—”

“Why would you go to see them before coming to me?”

She shrugged, looking at my chest instead of looking me in the eye. “Everyone knows you’re the best. You’ve got the show and all. I figured there was no way you’d even hear me out.”

“So what did the rest of them say?” I asked.

She blushed again. “They said they would do it, but the price was too steep.”

“Then you’re definitely not going to like my quote. I think this is a sweet idea, you wanting to restore the car for your uncle, but maybe you should think of something else to—”

“They wanted me to sleep with them,” she blurted. “All three of them said they’d do it if I had sex with them!”

Dirtbags, every last one of them, but I couldn’t claim to be surprised. “Obviously you turned them down.”

“Not before I told them off. Some things are not for sale.”

“Your body being one of them?” One more discreet perusal told me she could probably fetch a fortune for it.

“I may not have a lot,” she said, raising her chin, “but I still have my self-respect.”

Damn, I hated to admit it, but I admired her courage—knocking on doors, making unorthodox proposals on the off-chance someone would say yes. “I need some time to think about this. I have to talk to my production manager, figure out if there’s even a way we could do this for you.”

“But you’re the boss, right? Aren’t you the one who makes all the decisions?”

I couldn’t run a multi-million dollar business without the help of the best team I could get, and as soon as I started undermining their opinions, I’d run the risk of the competition poaching them. “We make these decisions together. After all, they’re the guys doing most of the work.”

“I understand,” she said, stepping back. “I appreciate your time, Seb.”

“Give me your number,” I said, reaching across the desk for my cell phone. Opening my contacts, I handed the phone to her. “I’ll call you when I make a decision.”

“Sure.” She typed the details into my phone before handing it back with a forced smile. “Thank you again. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

Believe me, baby, the pleasure was all mine.
“Yeah, you too. I’ll be in touch soon.”

Skylar

So that was the infamous Sebastian Steele, the man my uncle had been gushing about for years and claimed was a master at vintage car restoration. I was willing to bet Seb was a master in other areas too. Like the bedroom.

That T-shirt had done little to hide how ripped he was, though I’d tried hard not to notice. And those light blue eyes with that deep black hair… sinful. A girl could get seriously hooked on a man like that. A girl who didn’t have more important things on her mind than getting sexed up. Like life and death.

Tossing my purse on the seat of my sensible, fuel-efficient sedan, I looked around the parking lot, admiring the vintage cars and wondering how anyone could justify spending so much money on a set of wheels they probably parked more than they drove.

On the way back to my uncle’s apartment, my mind raced, wondering whether or not Seb would come through for me. He had to. Even if he called to tell me there was no way he could fit it into his schedule, I would go back begging on my hands and knees if I had to. Hell, I’d have cut a deal with the devil himself to see my uncle smile one last time.

Losing him was almost harder than losing my parents and Nan. At least my parents’ deaths had been swift, and Nan’s had been expected because of her advanced age. I’d grieved for my parents and Nan and found a way to move on—because of my uncle’s love and support. But watching him waste away was hell, and once he was gone, I would have to face facts: I was all alone in the world. At twenty-eight, I could hardly claim to be an orphan, but knowing I wouldn’t have a single family member I could call on when times were tough would have been terrifying if I’d let myself dwell on it.

My heart raced when I turned into the apartment complex parking lot and saw emergency vehicles.
Please, God, no!
I threw the car in park, barely taking time to kill the engine before I ran to the door in time to see the paramedics bringing our landlady out on a stretcher.

“Is she going to be okay?” I asked a handsome police officer hovering near his cruiser. I chastised myself for feeling relieved the ambulance wasn’t there for my uncle. Mrs. Ryan was a lovely woman and one of the last people I’d ever want to see fall ill.

He offered a sympathetic smile. “Is she a relative?”

“No, just a friend. Our landlady, actually.”

Except she was so much more than that. Ever since my uncle had been diagnosed with late-stage pulmonary hypertension, she had been an angel, delivering meals when I couldn’t cook for him and grocery shopping or checking the mail when he wasn’t well enough to get out. Sometimes she would just go up to his apartment and sit with him when he complained he was getting tired of his own company.

“She called 9-1-1 complaining of chest pains, from what I understand. By the time we arrived, she said she was feeling better. She didn’t even want to go to the hospital, but her blood pressure was up and blood sugar was down, so they’re taking her as a precaution.”

I smiled, relieved that she would be okay. “You’re not really supposed to tell me all this, are you?” He wasn’t a doctor, but I assumed he must be bound by the same code of ethics.

He grinned, reminding me how handsome he was. “I was hoping I could talk you into going for a cup of coffee with me. Figured you wouldn’t say yes if you thought I was a tight-ass.”

I laughed and covered my mouth when I realized I shouldn’t be laughing at a time like this. “Thanks for the info.” I lowered my hand to offer a smile that I hoped would soften my rejection. “But I don’t have much time for a social life these days.”

“Why is that?” he asked, leaning against his squad car. “A woman as beautiful as you can’t stay holed up in her apartment all the time. That’s just not right.”

I zeroed in on his soft hazel eyes, noting the lines that fanned out when he smiled. I suspected he was about ten years older than me, which didn’t bother me per se. Under better circumstances, I would have enjoyed getting to know him better.

“I work from home,” I explained, folding my arms. “And care for my sick uncle, which doesn’t allow time for much else.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your uncle,” he said, touching my forearm. “Is it serious?”

“I’m afraid so.” According to the last so-called specialist we’d seen, who had virtually no bedside manner, my uncle was a ticking time bomb.

“Being a caregiver isn’t easy, is it?” At my questioning look, he said, “My father passed a few years ago. We had to put my mother in a long-term care facility when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She was living with us, but since my wife and I were both working all day—”

“Your wife?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. Just my luck—first nice guy I meet in ages turns out to married. Not that I was shocked. I had a knack for picking losers.

“Ex-wife.” He chuckled. “Sorry, we’ve only been divorced six months. I’m still getting used to it, I guess.”

“Oh.” I didn’t want to pry, but I wondered if he was having a hard time getting used to the idea because he hadn’t initiated the split.

“She hooked up with my ex-partner,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Can you believe that?”

“Ouch, I’m sorry.” I’d dated a cop once, and I knew that the bond between partners was usually unbreakable.

He shrugged. “They had a long history. High school sweethearts, in fact. So I can’t say I was blindsided, like they were strangers and their only connection was me.”

I was amazed how well he was taking their betrayal. Spoke volumes about how together he was. “Did you know him before you became partners, or was it just an unlucky coincidence?”

“We all went to high school together,” he said, removing his hat and wiping the light sheen of sweat from his brow.

He had sandy blond, close-cropped hair, almost the same color as his eyes, and he was tall, maybe a little over six feet, with an easy smile that made me feel comfortable. I really liked him. He was easy to talk to, and I wondered if I would be out of line proposing we get together as friends.

“He and I were best friends. We joined the force at the same time and stayed close. His wife—”

“He was married too?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “She took it a hell of a lot harder than I did. I don’t know if she was in denial about their marriage or what, but when he came home and told her he wanted a divorce, she fell apart.” He cast a quick glance around. The other members of the response team had already dispersed. He was the only one left, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“It must be hard, thinking you’re going to spend your life with someone only to have them come home one day and tell you it’s over.”

“It is hard,” he said, nodding. “But you get over it. What choice do you have, right?”

“I guess so.” I glanced at my watch. “I really should get upstairs. I have to start dinner.” Extending my hand, I said, “It was nice to meet you…?”

He laughed as he shook my hand. “I can’t believe I just told you my whole life story and I don’t even know your name.”

I smiled. “I’m sure there’s more to tell. Maybe you could buy me that coffee sometime and fill me in on the rest?” When his eyes lit up, I released his hand and squeezed his forearm. “I meant what I said earlier. I don’t have time to date, but it might be nice to get out of the apartment every once in a while.”

“I’m good with that.” He reached into his squad car for his cell phone. “Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Skylar West, but my friends call me Sky.”

“Sky.” He grinned as he typed my name into his phone. “I like that.” He handed me the phone. “I’ll let you type in your number. That way if you give me the wrong one, I can’t blame it on these.” He waved his thick thumbs, making me smile.

“You know my name, where I live, and have ways to find out anything you want to know about me. You really think I’d give you a fake number?” I asked, handing him the phone as I eyed the nameplate affixed to his chest. “What’s your first name, Officer Price?”

“Jarod.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Jarod. But I really should be getting upstairs.”

“Nice to meet you too. You know, I wasn’t even supposed to be working tonight. I offered to cover a shift for a friend. But you just made me really glad I was the one who was here when you pulled up.”

“I’m glad you were too.” I walked backward toward the entrance, offering a half wave. “See you later.”

“Count on it.”

***

My uncle was dozing on his lounge chair when I let myself into the apartment. He’d been doing that a lot lately. I wasn’t sure if it was the disease, boredom, or depression getting the best of him, but seeing a man who’d once been a beloved high school gym teacher and basketball coach “lying around, waiting to die” made me sad.

“Hey,” he croaked, opening his eyes when he heard me close the door.

I glanced at the oxygen tank beside him and noted he wasn’t using it. Maybe today was a good day and he felt he didn’t need it. The good days were fewer and farther between now, but I reminded myself to be grateful for each and every one.

“Hey, yourself.” Seb’s sexy mug flashed across the screen, and my belly clenched. Too bad I hadn’t reacted the same way to Jarod. “Watching your favorite new show, I see.”

“’Bout time they gave him his own show,” my uncle muttered. “Knows more about vintage cars than the rest of those yahoos claiming to be experts.”

I’d read a few of Seb’s interviews in the car magazines my uncle left lying around the apartment, and I’d gotten the distinct impression the network had had to do a little arm-twisting to get him to agree to let cameras follow him around the shop all day. Thankfully I’d timed my visit just right. The last thing I wanted was for Uncle Charlie to know I’d gone to Seb.