Take Me Down (Suits in Pursuit) (21 page)

Cutting him off, “Spare me the goddamn details. I created that shit agreement. I know how this works,” Sebastian said, releasing a labored breath. “Listen, Garrett, I want you to know I appreciate your standing up for me, but I’m not going down without a fight.”

“You let me know what I can do.”

“Thank you, Garrett. If we end up sparring in the courtroom, don’t take it personally.” Inside his home, he paced the hall. “You and I, we built this company from nothing. I won’t let some junior-level, pencil-dick asshole waltz in and steal everything I’ve worked so hard for,” Sebastian yelled.

“You know I’m on your side.” Garrett fell silent for a few seconds before speaking again. “Sebastian, I’m worried about you. Why did you miss the board meeting? You’re not drinking again, are you?”

Sebastian let out a hoarse laugh. “No, I’m not drinking again. I met someone, the first woman I’ve really liked since…” he paused, not finishing the statement. “I missed that meeting because she screwed me over and left me trapped in the Keys until the hurricane passed.”

Garrett spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Sebastian.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Ashley Turner will be sorry.”

Their conversation ended. Sebastian sat at the edge of the sofa. Leaned forward, his forearms pressed against his thighs. The contents of his stomach churned, the sick feeling urging him to find consolation. Every manner of thought passed through his mind.

He could see her just as plainly as the Waterford crystal set before him on the sofa table. Ellie’s soft gaze, the way her amber hair shined on a summer’s day. All good memories of happier times before... He opened his eyes, rejoining the present. Neither the past nor the current moment had brought memories he cared to think about now. A deep breath didn’t offer recovery. His hand clamped down. Achy fingers curled the bottle of Evan Williams 23.

The liquid splashed against the sides of the glass until reaching the rim. Just one sip, he thought, eying the tumbler filled with bourbon. Sebastian lifted the glass to his lips. The toasty, charred oak scent singed his nostrils. Eighteen months. Seven weeks. Sixteen days. He glanced at the clock hung above an antique cabinet. Both the large and small hands pointed to the number twelve. He imagined the hands of the clocks rotating in reverse, counterclockwise. If he sipped, he would undo the vow he had made and upheld for all that time. The vow of sobriety.

Courage or strength, whatever the source, found him there on the sofa that evening. Sebastian stood. Eyed the welts around his wrists. Eyed the liquid swishing around in the glass he gripped in his hand. He remembered cleaning up the mess made after hurling a full coffee mug at the hotel room wall. His pitch arm lowered. Instead, he found himself standing over the kitchen sink. A pang struck his chest as gravity sucked the expensive bourbon down the drain, much like the direction of his life.

The clock displayed the time. Three o’clock in the morning. Sebastian kicked the blanket to the floor. A cool sweat coated his skin. He turned to face the other side of the room. Tiny springs prevented his eyelids from shutting. He counted each minute, each second. Restless tossing was his companion that night. This time when he glanced at the clock, the hour displayed said five fifteen. Still his mind raced. Thoughts carried over into the dawning of a new day.

Previous thoughts about becoming a better man were a distant memory. Precisely at five minutes after six that morning, a plan was born. A plan to rise victorious. A plan for revenge.

A surprise greeted her when the elevator doors parted and she stepped into the lobby. Men wearing hard hats and holding clipboards huddled in discussion. Work crews dismantled the lobby, ridding the space of the old rickety concierge desk. Two men consulted with a woman who wore a killer suit and the exact pair of Valentino T-strap pumps Ashley stalked for months. Glancing around, she noted fancy architectural renderings and signs mounted on easels.

She stepped over and around debris strewn across the floor and made her way to one of the signs. Studying the poster, she was impressed to learn that the renovations called for significant improvements. A hard tug on the usually jammed door to the leasing office revealed an unrecognizable space. A pretty woman with long, straight red hair welcomed her.

“Good morning, I’m Cassie. How may I help you?”

Cassie was new, her warm smile and friendly handshake a welcome change compared to Mrs. Cranston’s sneer and usual greeting of, “Yeah, what do you want?” or her typical response to maintenance requests that went something like, “Well, did you pay your rent on time?”

“Hi, my name is Ashley. I live in the building. I wanted to find out what I needed to do to break my lease, but…” Ashley glanced around the office, stunned. A fresh coat of paint, new floors, and office furnishings from this century did wonders for the space.

Cassie held out a hand, motioning Ashley to have a seat. “Well, Ashley, I certainly understand your concern considering the prior management company.” Cassie gave the most professional eye roll she had ever seen. “You just missed our new owner. He left a few minutes before you arrived. I’m sure you’ve seen the construction happening over the past couple of weeks.”

Ashley frowned. “Well, no. I... I’ve been out of town.” The truth was she’d been trudging up nine flights of stairs and sneaking through the back alley, like a criminal lurking in the shadows. A month since her return from Key West, she couldn’t get that night, or Sebastian Stone, off her mind. She regretted carrying out her plan to humiliate him. The damage done, she gave him reason to hold a grudge. Thus the reason for her back-alley antics.

Cassie didn’t miss a beat. “Then isn’t this a nice welcome-home surprise? I’m sure you haven’t opened your welcome letter yet.”

Ashley shook her head. She vaguely remembered the letter slipped under her door. She’d tossed the envelope into her junk-mail basket on the kitchen counter.

“Everything I’m going to share with you is inside that mailing.” Ashley’s lips twisted into a smile. “I’d love to tell you about the exciting changes coming and the really fantastic discounts available to current residents. Do you have a few minutes?”

By the end of their conversation, not only did Ashley decide to stay at the Carlisle for the remainder of her lease, but she also signed a twenty-four-month contract. Somehow, she forgot her reason for wanting to move in the first place, worries about Sebastian muffled.

She could move into a newly renovated luxury apartment double the size of her current space, complete with all new stainless-steel appliances and hardwoods, while paying her current rate for the next two years. When Cassie said her new apartment would be ready in six months, Ashley signed the dotted line.

The faces around the conference table were drained of life. The Monday morning meeting always dragged on too long. When Kerrigan married their boss Axel and then left the company to start her own business, Ashley was promoted to Kerrigan’s former account manager position. Ambitious, Ashley wanted to take the next step to senior account manager.

Axel cracked his knuckles. “All right. Last item of business. We have a new client, and I need to assign someone to the account. The account is…”

Before he could finish, “I’d like this account,” Ashley said, nearly bouncing out of her seat with excitement.

She ignored a few eye rolls and gestures from the usual suspects in the room. Megan shifted in her seat, faking a cough. Ryan rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, shoving a finger to the bridge of his nose to push up thick-ass coke-bottle lens. Ashley straightened her posture, waiting for Axel’s reaction.

He smiled and gave an affirming head nod. “Very good. Thank you, Ashley. This will be good for your growth. The job is a big one and will last for the next 18 months. I’ll give you details later this week.”

“Thank you.”

Axel leaned in close and whispered. “I’m sorry we still haven’t been able to find Copper.”

“I appreciate your help. Copper will turn up. This isn’t his first escape.”

Ashley forced a smile. Copper was going to be found. Until then, she would throw all her energy and effort into the account and land the promotion. An added bonus, the project would keep her thoughts off Sebastian and what might have been.

Sebastian peeled off his jacket. Prickly hairs on his forearm stood on end, the crisp morning air the culprit. His jog slowed to a complete stop. Hands placed on both knees, he waited until his heart rate returned to normal. He collapsed onto the green metal park bench.

Across from where he rested, an attractive woman wearing a gray tracksuit and whose hair had been pulled up into a ponytail caught his eye. Eyes averted, his head fell to his chin. The thought of his stolen glance being found out made his stomach ache. Instead, he ignored her and tied the laces on his right shoe. Before he could finish the task, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Sebastian glanced at the number. He leaned back and relaxed against the backrest, his foot colliding with the earth, twigs crunching beneath his Nikes with a loud crunch. “Hello,” he said, still winded.

“Hey, man. I haven’t heard from you in weeks. How’s it going?” Daniel asked, sounding as he usually did, without a care in the world.

He leaned forward, resting sweaty forearms on his knees. “I don’t know where to begin. So much has happened since we last spoke.”

“I bet it has,” Daniel said, a smile clinging to his words. “You never replied to my text. Did you ever bang that black chick?”

The ache in his stomach ignited, flared into a burning sensation. “Why do you have to refer to her that way?” Sebastian tried to shrug off the warm feeling in his gut.

“Sorry! I didn’t know you’d be offended.”

“When the only reference you make is about the color of Ashley’s skin, yeah, that’s offensive.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Well, did you bang her?”

“Yeah, I did. Turned out to be the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I mean, the sex was amazing. The aftermath…” He paused, nodding his head. He told Daniel the entire story, from being trapped in the Keys to losing his job. Sebastian omitted the fact that, despite his seething anger, he couldn’t stop fantasizing about that night or thinking about Ashley. “She’s going to wish she never fucked me over.”

“Damn!” Daniel said. “That’s rough. What are you planning to do for work? You gonna fight back?”

The woman across from him jogged off. “Why fight back? I don’t want to spend the next year and a half or more in a courtroom broadcast to every home in America. The best revenge is success. I built that company, and I can build another one. In fact, I already have irons in the fire. Stephen Holman is in for a world of trouble, all his own doing.”

“My friend, I’m glad you’re confident and not defeated. Word of caution, may I?”

“Sure. What?” He tuned in attentively.

“Let go of your anger. I mean with that woman. Move on. You’re Goliath. She’s nobody. With her attitude and actions, undoubtedly she’ll bring a reign of terror to herself without your aiding or abetting. You don’t need anger rotting your soul.”

A hearty laugh burst from his lips. “Hmm. You’re right. She has brought a reign of terror to herself, and his name is Sebastian Stone. She just doesn’t know it yet. No one tramples on me. No one.”