Harper found herself fascinated by the shift in Margot’s demeanor—sharper now, more alert, as if Sebastian required a higher level of strategic engagement than most people.
Sebastian’s eyes moved to Harper, taking her in with a quick but comprehensive glance that somehow felt both flattering and slightly invasive. His gaze held none of the dismissal she’d faced from other elite circles—instead, there was a flash of genuine curiosity.
“And you’ve brought fresh blood,” he said, nodding toward Harper. “How terribly unfair of you.”
Margot rolled her eyes. “Sebastian, this is Harper Sinclair from The Chronicle. Harper, this is Sebastian Hawthorne, Caledonia’s most eligible cliché.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved into a smile that transformed his face from merely handsome to something more dangerous. “Charmed,” he said, extending a hand.
Harper shook it, determined not to be just another starstruck newcomer dazzled by aristocratic charm and good bone structure. “Your father’sinfrastructure bill seems to be struggling in committee,” she said, deliberately choosing substance over small talk. “Any insights on whether the environmental amendments will survive?”
Something flickered across Sebastian’s face—surprise, followed by a more genuine interest. His
hand lingered on hers a moment longer than strictly necessary before he released it.
“Bold opening,” he said, approval warming his voice. “Most people lead with questions about my latest tabloid appearance.”
“I assumed you’d be bored of those,” Harper replied, meeting his gaze directly.
Sebastian’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Perceptive.” He glanced around the room before leaning just a touch closer, as if sharing a confidence. “The environmental amendments are window dressing. They’ll sacrifice them to push through the development zones in clause seventeen—that’s where the real money is. But you didn’t hear that from me.”
The casual delivery of insider information caught her off guard. Before she could respond, Sebastian continued: “Well, Ms. Sinclair, welcome to the circus. Word of advice—the canapés are for show, the quotes are all pre-approved, and everyone’s lying about something.”
Harper tilted her head slightly. “Including you?”
Sebastian’s smile deepened, reaching his eyes for the first time. It transformed him from polished socialite to something warmer, more genuine. “Especially me.”
Harper felt that familiar flutter of attraction to someone she absolutely shouldn’t want—the kind of man who would make her feel brilliant and interesting right up until he reminded her she was neither.
Before she could say anything, someone across the room called his name—impatient, older, sharp-suited. The kind of man used to being obeyed.
Sebastian sighed dramatically. “Duty calls. The exhausting business of having no official purpose.” He stepped back, his gaze lingering on Harper. “I have a feeling we’ll meet again, Harper Sinclair.”
He gave Margot a mock salute and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a strange electricity in his wake.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Margot gave Harper a knowing look. “I saw that.”
“Saw what?” Harper asked.
“That spark. It happens to everyone.” Margot’s tone was gentle but warning. “Just remember, Sebastian Hawthorne is professionally charming. He makes everyone feel like they’re the most interesting person he’s ever met.”
“I’m not interested in him,” Harper said, too quickly. Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie.
“Good, because he’s definitely the type to smile to your face while he stabs you in the back.” She lowered her voice, eyes tracking Sebastian across the room.
Harper frowned. “You sound like you know from experience.”
“Let’s just say I’ve watched enough people get too close to the Hawthornes. It rarely ends well.”
Margot drained her champagne glass. “They collect weaknesses like others collect art—beautiful pieces to be leveraged at the perfect moment.” She shook her head. “Anyway. Sebastian’s a story, not a prospect. Now, let’s go earn our keep.”
Harper did her job—interviewed two executives, gathered quotes about the initiative, networked with other journalists. But her eyes kept returning to Sebastian, observing how he operated within the social ecosystem.
She noticed the careful way he positioned himself near important conversations without
appearing to listen. How people naturally opened up to him. How information seemed to flow toward him like water flowing downhill.
At one point, she overheard him sharing what seemed like a harmless anecdote about a cabinet minister: “…I mean, he wasn’t drunk exactly, just uninhibited enough to suggest privatizing the entire healthcare system over dessert. The Norwegian ambassador nearly choked on her sorbet…”