Page 53 of Shattered Crown
For a few precious minutes, I let myself relax. Let the warmth of the sun soak into my skin, the salt breeze lift my hair, the beauty of this place work its magic on my frayed nerves.
Then Sebastian walked in, and all the peace evaporated.
He was wearing khaki linen pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his dark hair slightly damp from a shower. He looked unfairly put-together for someone who'd probably slept as poorly as I had. His eyes scanned the room and landed on me immediately, like he'd known exactly where I'd be.
He walked toward my table.
I set down my coffee cup with a deliberate click.
"This seat taken?" He gestured to the chair across from me.
"There are fifteen empty tables in this restaurant."
"I'm aware."
He pulled out the chair and sat without waiting for permission. I considered throwing my coffee in his face, but that seemed like a waste of excellent Kona.
"We need to talk," he said.
"I disagree."
"Aria." His voice was low, controlled, but I could hear the tension underneath. The same tension that was coiled in my own chest. "We're going to be here for two weeks. We can eitherspend that time at each other's throats, or we can establish some ground rules and behave like adults."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his ground rules, his cooperation, his reasonable suggestions.
But he wasn't wrong.
Two weeks of open warfare would exhaust us both. And worse, it would probably tank both our chances with Mr. Kahale. The old man hadn't built a legacy like this by surrounding himself with people who couldn't control their emotions.
"Fine." I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "What did you have in mind?"
Sebastian signaled the server, ordered coffee, and turned back to me. The morning light caught his features, softening the sharp edges, and I had to look away before I started cataloging things I had no business noticing.
"Rule one," he said. "What happened in New York stays in New York. We don't discuss it, we don't reference it, we don't let it affect our professional conduct here."
The kiss flashed behind my eyes. His hands that slid up my thigh. The sound he'd made when I'd pulled him closer. Heat crept up my neck, and I prayed he couldn't see it.
"Agreed."
"Rule two. We compete fairly. No sabotage, no underhanded tactics, no trying to make the other look bad in front of Mr. Kahale. We each make our case on our own merits."
"Fine."
"Rule three." He paused. His eyes met mine, and something passed between us—an acknowledgment of the thing we were both pretending didn't exist. "We keep our distance. Outside of necessary interactions, we stay out of each other's way."
I knew what he was really saying. Stay away from me because I don't trust myself around you.
I should have been relieved. This was exactly what I wanted. Space, boundaries, a clear line between us that neither of us would cross.
Instead, I felt a traitorous curl of heat in my stomach.
"Agreed," I said. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Anything else?"
"That covers it."
"Good." I stood, leaving my half-finished breakfast on the table. "Then I'll see you at the evaluation meeting this afternoon. Try not to embarrass yourself."
I walked away without looking back.
