Chapter 3
Sebastian snarled at the girl holding out the cup of coffee. “Get lost,” he muttered, scowling.
She stood her ground. “I can't. Mr. Drake told me that I had to bring you a cup of black coffee every morning on pain of being fired. So here it is. Please take it.”
The photographer reached out and took the cup, his black look deepening. “Good to know that you work for him, not me,” he noted.
“I'm sorry, but he pays my paychecks,” the girl pointed out. “I'm really his assistant, not yours. And he told me to take care of you.”
“Well, you've taken care of me. Now fuck off before I see how far I can shove my camera down your throat,” Sebastian told her. She scurried away, leaving him glaring down into the cup of hot, steaming coffee as though it were the devil's own brew.
He hated Eli. Bastard had started 'managing' him when he saw how many times that Sebastian had shown up at shoots obviously hung over from the heavy drinking of the night before. He might not be able to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but by God he was going to give it the ol' college try! He'd refused to talk to his agent about WHY he was drinking so much lately, so Eli had decided to punish him with perky assistants and cosseting until he wanted to scream and punch something. Eli couldn't have chosen a worse form of torture for Sebastian than making him deal with a smiling, chipper, extremely insistent girl when all he wanted to do was go and curl up under the catering table and never move again.
He sipped at the coffee, which was excellent. Not bitter and black like his mood. He hated everything in his life right now. The pampered, spoiled, shallow, vain, narcissistic creatures that he had to deal with on a daily basis; the agent that he couldn't forget or stop wanting even though he had a perfect boyfriend; and that ridiculous 'assistant' of Eli's, who he didn't punch simply because he didn't believe in hitting women. Life sucked righteously.
“I see that you're your usual cheery, happy self this morning, Sebastian,” a familiar voice said above his head.
He looked up with a scowl at his agent. “Well, if you'd stop torturing me with that stupid girl, I might not be so...” he trailed off when he saw Eli's face. It was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes. “What's the matter?” he said abruptly.
Eli lifted a single brow. “What could be the matter?” he replied tartly. “Nobody's life has anything wrong with it but yours, right?”
Sebastian frowned. “I'd like to think so,” he said. “You look like shit,” he added.
“Thank you. That makes me feel much better,” Eli pulled out a chair and sat down, laying his briefcase down on the table in front of him.
The photographer leveled a narrow-eyed dark stare at him. :If you don't tell me what's wrong, I'll just torture you until you tell me,” he growled.
“And this would be different from any other day how? “Eli asked with delicate sarcasm.
When Sebastian's mouth thinned, he sighed. “Fine, I'll tell you. David and I broke up last night.”
Sebastian's jaw dropped in utter shock. This news was so out of left field that he felt stunned. “Why?” he asked abruptly.
Eli shrugged. “I suppose it's because we realized that we weren't actually right for each other,” he replied.
Sebastian shook his head. “Really? I thought you two were the perfect couple,” his voice was as neutral as he could manage to make it.
Eli sighed. “So did I,” he said softly. “But apparently not.”
Looking at him, Sebastian said quietly: 'Do you want to go and get drunk tonight?”
Eli laughed harshly. “No, I think that you do enough drinking for both of us, Sebastian,” he replied caustically. “I'll survive. Don't worry about it.”
The photographer snorted. “I'm sure that you'll survive. You're too tough not to. Lots of people underestimate you, but I don't. You'll bounce back. But if you ever need any help doing so...call me.”
“I'll keep that in mind,” Eli replied. “Can we concentrate on business now? How's the shoot going?”
“Terrible, as usual,” Sebastian said, masking the flair of relief and satisfaction that he'd felt when Eli had admitted that he'd broken up with David Hale. He didn't think his agent would appreciate those emotions, especially when he had no idea why Sebastian was feeling them. “She spent two hours yesterday pouting and having a temper tantrum because I'd caught her 'bad side'. She's afraid that the pictures will make her look older than she actually is.”
“Will they?” Eli asked curiously, staring at him across the table.
He grimaced. “No. Because I'm a professional, no matter what else I happen to be. She'll look gorgeous. And she won't even thank me. They never do. That's why I charge twice as much as everybody else. The annoyance factor of making these ungrateful bitches look like a million bucks without even a 'thank you' for my efforts.”
Eli's lips lifted on one side. “I'm sure that the money is compensation,” he said.
Sebastian shrugged. “I suppose. Do you want some coffee?” he said abruptly. “I could get that Carrie girl to fetch you some. She's got to be good or SOMETHING.”
“I could use some,” Eli conceded. “Thank you,” he went on, a faint spark of amusement in his eyes.
The photographer grinned slightly. “Anything for you, chief,” he said, then raised his voice. “Hey, Carrie! Get over here!”
The girl approached the table warily, although she perked up when she saw Eli sitting there. “Good morning, Mr. Drake,” she said.
“Good morning, Carrie,” he replied politely.
“Eli wants some coffee. He takes it with two sugars and one cream,” Sebastian told her.
She nodded and hurried off, while Eli turned a faintly scolding expression on him. “You shouldn't treat her like that. She's not one of your models, Sebastian. She's here to help you out. You don't have to be an ass all the time, you know.”
Usually he would have responded with a sarcastic or cutting remark, but this time he merely shrugged. “If you want me to play all nicey-nice with your assistant, then I will. Just for you, Eli.”
The agent's brows drew down a bit warily. “Have you moved on from alcohol to something stronger?” he demanded suspiciously.
Sebastian felt like laughing. He wanted to do a little dance right here and now! Eli had broken up with his boyfriend! He couldn't help but be in a better mood over this news. “Nah, I'm high on life,” he replied sardonically, making his agent shake his head. Sebastian gave no indication that his words were actually true for once.
The girl Carrie arrived back with a cup of coffee for Eli, who took it with a faint smile and a word of thanks. Sebastian felt rather jealous of her. He wished that he could get Eli to smile at him like that. But who knew? Now that he was single again, Sebastian had some hope for the future. When he got home tonight, he was going to pour every bottle of booze that he possessed down the sink. Because Eli didn't like it when he drank...
Eli moodily looked down into the cup of coffee sitting on the table in front of him. How long had it been since he and David had broken up? Six weeks or so? It felt like. Six years. His bed was empty, and so was his heart. It wasn’t that he’d been desperately in love with David - although he’d thought he was at one time - it was just that he’d gone from a somewhat fulfilling personal life to none whatsoever. And it was too soon after the break-up to start dating again; he’d simply have to get through this as best as he could, and surely time would heal all wounds. Surely.
He looked up when he heard Sebastian’s voice bark: “Listen, Kate, I know this is difficult to get through your head, since it’s extremely dense in there, but you have to TRY to look like a human being and not just a pretty doll. If the publishers of Cosmo wanted a pretty doll, they could just have me take photos of a mannequin.”
Eli sighed and shook his head as the photographer received a death glare from the slender beauty posing on a divan in front of him. If looks could kill, Sebastian would have been dead a thousand times over by now. Still, Sebastian’s techniques actually worked, he had to admit that. The man turned out pictures that were literally worth a million bucks to the models in the photos. So even if this cost her some short-term aggravation and annoyance, in the long run she’d be better off and happier. So he didn’t say anything or try to interfere as Sebastian browbeat the model into emoting for the camera.
Sebastian’s assistant, Carrie, came to the table and handed his a danish on a napkin. “Here, Mr. Drake. He could be awhile,” she said with a rueful smile.
“I know,” he sighed. “And thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied as she sat down across from him. “But it’s just nice to have someone say ‘thank you’ or ‘I appreciate all that you do for me’ once in awhile. Mr. Versang,” she shot a glance at the photographer, who was busy snapping photos rapidly, “Isn’t very appreciative.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said.
She shook her head. “Don’t be. I’ve always wanted to work in fashion, and you gave me the chance. Besides, since you had a talk with him he’s been…okay. Not a total sweetheart, but at least he doesn’t yell at me and insult me all the time anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Eli replied. “Usually Sebastian doesn’t listen to a word I say. He must be mellowing as he gets older.”
“If that’s true, I wouldn’t want to know what he was like when he was young,” Carrie remarked dryly.
“Me, either,” he agreed. “I’m just grateful that he doesn’t hate you. If he had, he’d have destroyed you on your first day as his assistant.”
“You mean this is what he’s like if he sort of likes someone?” she asked, appalled.
Eli’s lips quirked up at the corners. “I’m afraid so,” he said.
“Wow. I guess I should feel privileged that he sort of likes me, then,” she said. Then she paused, and added thoughtfully: “You know, Mr. Drake, I’ve noticed that he’s mean to everybody else, but he’s never like that with you. Not really. He can be sarcastic and everything, but he never picks you apart.”
Surprised, he considered her words. “You might be right,” he said slowly. “Maybe it’s because I’m his agent and I help him to make lots of money…?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t really seem to care about money that much,” Carrie said. “He doesn’t buy expensive clothes, and his house isn’t big or fancy…except for the vintage Jaguar he drives, I don’t think he spends a lot of money on much of anything. And he only has that car because he loves it, not because it was expensive. It must be something else that makes him hold back from being horrible to you.”
Eli frowned thoughtfully, his fingers playing with the Styrofoam cup in front of him. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “I really don’t have any idea why he treats me better than anyone else that he knows. But now that I think about it, you’re right. For Sebastian, he’s practically saintly when he talks to me. I wonder why?”
“I’m not sure, but he obviously respects you. He quit drinking pretty much altogether after you lectured him about it.”
His brows shot up. “He did?!”
She nodded again. “Mmm hmm. He hasn’t come to a shoot with a hangover for at least…oh, six weeks or so. He’s still surly and bad-tempered, don’t get me wrong; but I don’t think that’s from alcohol anymore. It’s just his natural morning personality.”
He was taken aback. What could he have said to make Sebastian stop drinking? But then, he had no idea what had made the photographer start coming into work drunk in the first place, so…it was a mystery. “I’m happy to hear that he’s cut down on his drinking,” he told her slowly, “But I don’t think that it’s anything that I did.”
“Maybe not, but he also started treating me better - well, relatively, anyway - after you got on his case about it. He really listens to you,” Carrie said earnestly.
“I never thought that I’d see the day where Sebastian Versang would listen to anybody, let alone a lowly agent,” Eli remarked wryly.
“Thank God that he did, though. It’s made my job a lot easier. Although I’d love it if we could find some way to make him a bit sweeter. I’ve never seen a guy who needed to get laid more,” Carrie said. “Oops, sorry, shouldn’t have said that. It was kind of tacky.”
Eli’s brows had gathered together. “What are you talking about? Sebastian will sleep with anything with two legs and a penis. In fact, I don’t think that he’d rule out something with four legs, either…umm, now I’m being tacky. Sorry.”
Carrie giggled. “It’s okay. But you assigned me to drive him everywhere because he was drinking so heavily,” she pointed out to Eli. “And he never had me take him to clubs or bars or anything, to meet men. I always just drop him off at his house every night, and he’s always alone when I come to pick him up in the morning. I’ve never seen him with another guy, not once since I started as his assistant.”
Completely astonished, Eli just sat there and looked at her. This didn’t...compute. Sebastian had been a player for as long as Eli had known him. A new guy every night(or sometimes two or three), pretty boys hanging off of his arm whoever he went. He doubted that Sebastian had even known most of their names. Yet…if Carrie were to be believed, Sebastian was…celibate? No, that couldn’t be right. He had to be leaving his house after she’d dropped him off and going out to pick up men. Maybe he just wasn’t taking them to his house anymore? Maybe he went to their houses or apartments instead? That had to be it. Because he simply couldn’t wrap his head around the image of Sebastian Versang going without sex for any length of time. It wasn’t natural.
“I think you must be wrong,” he said tentatively. “Sebastian…isn’t wired to go without sex for very long. He just isn’t. It’s not in him.”
“I’d think that I was, but when I first started working for him, he was horribly hung-over every morning. And I saw the empty liquor bottles in his trash can. He wasn’t going out to drink, he was staying at home. Alone. Maybe he goes out now that he doesn’t drink so much anymore…I can’t be sure. But honestly, he seems like a guy who just isn’t getting any and hasn’t for a while. All snarly and grumpy. I know that’s his normal personality, but…” she shrugged her shoulders, “That’s just the feeling I get. I could be wrong.”
He scrubbed at his face with one hand. If she were right, then Sebastian was acting even more strangely than he’d thought! The world must be coming to an end if Sebastian Versang wasn’t going out on a quest to get laid every night of the week. “That is…peculiar,” he said. “He isn’t acting like himself at all these days.”
“I wouldn’t know; he’s always been this way around me,” she said with a faint smile. “Maybe he’s changed? Had an epiphany or something?”
“An epiphany about what, though?” he asked of the air. “That he’s an ass? No, that can’t be it. He’s still an ass,” he added dryly, making her giggle.
“Actually, if it were anyone but him I’d think that he was in love,” Carrie said, making him blink in astonishment.
“What makes you say that?” he asked her.
“Well, I don’t know. It’s just that…love makes you do strange things, but it doesn’t change your basic personality,” Carrie said, lifting her shoulders in a helpless gesture. “He’s still an ass, but he doesn’t go out all the time looking to get laid? And he stopped drinking? I’d think that he was doing it FOR someone, but that can’t be right,” she went on, shaking her head.
Eli just sat there, dumbfounded. SOMEONE was having an epiphany, and it wasn’t Sebastian! The photographer had started drinking heavily while he was still with David, but almost the moment that he’d told Sebastian that they’d broken up the drinking had just…stopped. And Sebastian had been celibate for who knew how long, something that was unheard of for him. And he was as nice as he could possibly be(for him) toward Carrie, just because Eli had gotten on his case about the way he treated the girl…no. It couldn’t be. Uh uh. It simply wasn’t possible that Sebastian…that Sebastian…was in love…with HIM!
He tried to push these thoughts away, but they wouldn’t go. They stubbornly sat in his mind as he changed the subject and chatted with Carrie about the fashion biz, and life in L.A, and her new boyfriend. When Sebastian finally came over and sat down in the empty chair next to him, he almost jumped out of his skin. The photographer eyed Carrie. “How about some coffee?” he growled at her.
Since this was polite for him, the girl jumped up and hurried away to etch him some coffee. He eyed Eli. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?” he asked.
The agent felt a jolt of surprise. Sebastian could tell that he was uneasy with just one look? The man wouldn’t be able to read him so well if he hadn’t been paying attention. Oh, God, it simply couldn’t be true. Could it?
“I want to ask you something, Sebastian,” he said slowly, gathering up all of his courage.
“Oh? What?” the photographer was now eyeing him warily, which Eli couldn’t blame him for. He was acting rather odd, but…
His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool. “It’s about…me,” he began.
“What about you?” Sebastian sounded tense as well as wary now.
He met the photographer’s gaze head on, pinning him. “Do you have feelings for me, Sebastian? Tell me the truth, right now, or I get up and walk out,” he said bluntly. “And if I do, I won’t ever come back again. I know when you’re lying, I can tell. So be honest.”
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