A Waltz With Wolves (Book II in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Bad At Love

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It isn't a good feeling to wake up and find the man you slept with the night before nowhere to be found, especially when you're thousands of miles away from your home country.

I'm sure the entire table at my grandmother's house feels bad for me; they suspected that something was up between Sebastian and me, and the look on my face after being told by my grandmother that both Sebastian and Claude are gone has only solidified their suspicions.

"Oh," is all I reply, forks and spoons clanking against everyone's plates and bowls awkwardly. I retire back to my room and immediately start packing all of my belongings into my suitcases. My hands move faster than the thoughts in my head, which is a good thing because I would have somehow convinced myself to stay; there's nothing for me here. This trip has made that point abundantly clear. I left home to finally meet my mother, and I ended up being threatened away from her all while losing my boyfriend and losing Sebastian, too; he didn't even have the decency to tell me he was leaving. I'm not surprised, though. Sebastian is a man shrouded in mystery. I'd be a fool to assume that he, especially in times like now, would be honest with me about anything.

The flight home was long and depressing. It only made me realize everything I didn't accomplish during my time away. And now, despite my vow to be more centered around my own personal benefit, I'm on a flight back home to attend to my work, forcing myself to forget the shit that happened in Venetia; in Scotland. I don't know if I have the energy to ask Sebastian why he left. He'll most like confront me about it, lie, and beg for forgiveness. I'll look into his eyes and see secrets piling up in them, refusing to expose themselves to me. Like Alejandro, there's a layer of mystery weaved into his DNA that's probably too complex for me to dissect.

The first thing I do when I get home is pick up Pedro from Beth's and head to my apartment. I set my belongings in my living room, strip off my clothes and take a long, cold bath. I stare up at the ceiling and wonder how I'm ever going to get out of the stand-still I'm in. Sometimes I think about running away from it - changing my name or something ridiculous of that nature and finding a place somewhere outside of Hollywood; imitating the life I had months ago. Before I met Sebastian. Meeting him was bittersweet, the more I think about it. My life became more complicated once I met him but more honest.

As I stare at my legs in the cold water, my phone suddenly starts buzzing out of control. It's late at night - around 10:45 PM, so the jet lag mixed with the mental exhaustion could be leading me to hallucinations or hearing things. But alas, my phone continues ringing like crazy. That's when I really wake up.

Drying my hand off on a towel, I reach for my phone and begin reading through the notifications. Most of them are notifications from media outlets - TMZ, People, The Grapevine, what have you. Whenever something involving my client happens, it isn't abnormal to see my phone start blowing up with emails, texts, and other notifications; it's a usual sight.

But this is the first time that these notifications have included me.

At first, I stare at the screen as my heart rate starts to speed up. The air, once warm, becomes cold - piercing cold - all around me. Then my lungs start caving in on themselves. I look at the photo - that cursed photo. Sebastian and I at Claire's 21st birthday party. That's the photo the tabloids haves Me - the topic of conversation for a gossip column. Just as I predicted, they see Sebastian's closeness with me and read deep between the lines. I knew this would happen, but I just didn't think it would feel this significant.

I read the headlines, all of them, one by one. None of them mention my name. At least not yet. They'll know my name soon. Fuck. Just what I need.