“Hi,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. I wasn’t exactly familiar with the protocol for what one said to her ex after seven years of distance.
“Ms. Kincaid,” Sebastian said, nodding in acknowledgement. I felt chills break out across my skin at the sound of my name on his lips, something I thoughtI’d never hear again. I stared unblinking at him, in that moment utterly unconcerned with the fact that he hated me and had likely just gotten me fired. His eyes roamed my face and hair as mine drank in the sight of him in turn. The air between us grew charged, practically crackling with electricity as the seconds passed and neither of us made a move to leave.
The moment was broken when Sebastian’s mind seemed to clear of whatever spell had fallen over us, his face darkening to an expression of anger — whether at himself or at me, I wasn’t sure. He extended his arms into my space, each of his hands forming a light grip around my biceps, and moved me two feet to the his left so our paths were finally clear of one another. I allowed him to steer me, my befuddled feet moving at his command.
His touch was perfunctory, in no way lingering or intimate; in the space of an instant, we’d slipped back into being strangers. Before I could say another word, he’d moved past me and was headed for the elevators. I didn’t care what my nosy coworkers might read on my face as I watched him go. Never had I felt more keenly the sting of regret at the way our lives had played out, at the hand we’d been dealt by fate. Wondering if I’d ever see him again, my eyes followed his departure until he boarded the elevator and its gleaming gold doors slid shut behind him. Only when he’d disappeared from view did I turn to face Jeanine’s door.
With a deep inhale and a bolstering roll of my shoulders, I grasped the handle and walked inside.
***
“You’re not serious,” I said, just shy of scoffing.
Jeanine stared impassively, her expression unchanged but for the subtle lift of her brow.
“Sorry,” I recovered. “But Jeanine, that’s just absurd. I can’t be Sebastian Covington’s… what would you even call it? Personal assistant? Errand girl? Slave?”
“Listen, Lux, I like you,” Jeanine announced, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back in her leather chair.
Could’ve fooled me.
“You do consistently good work, you don’t make waves, and you don’t bother me with inane complaints like so many of your coworkers,” she continued.
I sensed the impendingbutcoming.
“But,” she said, confirming my prediction. “You messed up on this one. I don’t know what you did to piss off Mr. Covington and frankly I don’t care. The bottom line is, his shots of Cara are a huge part of the September issue — which, as you may or may not have put together at some point during your three years here, is our most important edition of the year. So I don’t care if we have to jump through hoops or tame dragons or run marathons to make him happy. Mr. Covington getswhateverhe requests. And he specifically requested you.”
He was going to derail my life, just like I’d done to him all those years ago. This was it: the moment karma bit me in the ass. The ghost of boyfriends past, come back to haunt me.
I nodded, at a loss for words.
“More importantly, though,Lusteris celebrating its 100thbirthday in a few short weeks,” Jeanine went on. “The Centennial. It’s going to be huge. Big party, media coverage, the whole package. Mr. Hardinghimselfwill be attending.” She leaned forward and stared at me intently, pressing her hands against the edge of her desk. “Then we have the December issue, which will be a tribute to 100 years ofLuster. We’ll be doing a slew of special features and photo shoots to commemorate and recreate the magazine’s history.”
I nodded again — the entire staff had been briefed on the Centennial celebration months ago, and preparations were well underway for the event. It was going to, quite literally, be the party of the century. Fae had already purchased her dress on special order — designer, of course — and was nearly incapacitated by distress when I told her I’d yet to purchase mine.
“I’m sorry Jeanine, but I just don’t understand what the Centennial has to do with Sebastian Covington.”
“Dear, it haseverythingto do with Sebastian Covington. He is one of the most exclusive, well-respected photographers in the industry. The projects he agrees to are few and far between, and he doesn’t typically do fashion. We’re lucky to have him and, if we’re being candid, we probably wouldn’t if Cara Stein hadn’t convinced him. Apparently, they have a…personal connection.”
I’ll bet they do.
“He’ll be doing ten different themed spreads for us, recreating famousLustershoots through the ages. One shoot per decade. Cara will pose for several of them. And you’ll be theLusterliaison assisting him,” she told me. “Withwhateverhe needs. I don’t care if he wants you fetching dry-cleaning and coffee. You’re at his disposal. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal.” My saccharine smile was far from sincere.
“Wonderful,” she said, clapping her hands twice in quick succession. “You’ll report to the ArtLust studio bright and early Monday morning. Mr. Covington has your contact information.” Her smile was vaguely amused as she glanced pointedly from me to the door. Apparently, I’d been dismissed; I stood to leave.
“Oh, and Lux?” Jeanine called when I’d reached the exit. “I’d suggest doing some preliminary research on Mr. Covington. Get familiar with his background, his past, his likes and dislikes…it may be useful.”
His past. I turned to face her and nodded, forcing the bubbling hysteria down.
“I’ll be sure to do that, Jeanine. Have a good weekend.”
I exited her office in a stupor, not exactly sure how it had happened but knowing full well that in the last five minutes, everything had changed irrevocably. When the door closed at my back, Fae was there by my side almost instantly. She took one look at my shell-shocked expression, looped an arm through mine, and guided me through the gauntlet of curious stares and gossip back toward our desks.
“So, we’re going to that new sushi place for lunch. The one with the spicytuna roll I’d sell my soul for,” Fae prattled loudly, filling the silence with a cheerful tone meant to fend off the unwanted attention of our onlookers. “I remember you said you wanted to get salads but I’m really craving sushi. I know you Georgia girls get nervous about anything that hasn’t been fried or smothered with Crisco first, but just trust me on this one. You’ll love it.”
I kept my eyes focused forward, not meeting anyone’s gaze and pretending I didn’t hear the speculative murmurs about my meeting with Jeanine and my halting interaction with Sebastian. My face was carefully blank, my posture rigid with self-containment.