Overlooked(66)

What the hell could they be posting about me? Sebastian and I haven't been seen out together since Turks and Caicos. His visit here last week was too brief to garner any real attention. At least I thought so.

It doesn't take me long to get my answer and I feel like the bottom has just dropped out of me.

There, on the screen in full color, is a picture of Sebastian and some blonde woman with legs that stretch on for miles.

What strikes me is that the woman is holding a colorful bouquet of flowers, smiling radiantly with her arm looped through Sebastian's. His smile isn't as wide as hers but it's there and it cracks my heart in half.

For the first time, I allow my eyes to wander to the caption under the photograph:

"Just weeks after enjoying an island getaway with contest winner Olivia King, tech tycoon Bash Downs seems to have moved on from the fling. Today he was pictured out with his ex, supermodel Maya Levi. Have these two rekindled an old flame? YOU be the judge. Swipe through the photos and leave us your take below."

His ex? The gravity of that information hits me with the force of ten-thousand bricks. Sebastian outright told me that he never dated anyone because of his demanding career.

And judging from the photos, they were very familiar with one another. The photos screamed intimacy. Their entwined arms, their smiles and their searing eye contact. Everything about it was nauseating.

My unanswered calls suddenly make sense. He wasn't working late after all.

But he'd been busy all right.

An eerie sense of déjà vu settles over me, twisting the knife in my gut that much more. This is Jordan all over again, except more people get to witness my humiliation.

But there was no blog post to point out Jordan's betrayal. This was worse.

What I thought was love for Jordan dims in comparison to what I feel for Sebastian. And he'd just stomped all over my heart.

I can't believe I made myself vulnerable to him and believed the bullshit about him being "all in."

My chest is constricting from the pain and I want to scream at the top of my lungs but I refuse to wake Winnie.

Why had he led me to believe we were more than we actually were? He'd snatched away my right to choose whether or not I wanted to be a part of his sick little lineup of women.

The screen blurs in front of me before I feel wetness on my cheek. But he isn't worth my tears. Foolishly, I'd opened my heart up to someone who wasn't worthy and now I have to face the repercussions.

Silly me.

With shaking hands, I quickly type out a text.

Message received loud and clear. I won't bother you again.

My finger punches "send" as more tears threaten to fall. Refusing to feel sorry for myself, I swipe the moisture from my face and toss my phone across the bed.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN





SEBASTIAN DOWNS





I fucked up.

When I pulled out my phone tonight and saw those three missed calls from Olivia my stomach dropped to my shoes because I just knew she was calling to confront me about the pictures that surfaced with me and Maya.

Instead, I'd heard her tired but cheerful voice lamenting about a rough day and urging me to call her back.

Thinking I had time to warn her about what she may see later, I saved the voicemail just as a text message from her came through.

Message received loud and clear. I won't bother you again.

Swearing under my breath, I immediately call her to set the record straight, already realizing that my chances are pretty slim. She's had time to form her own idea of what happened. On my fourth attempt, Olivia finally picks up the phone sounding groggy.

"H-Hello?"

"Olivia, I can explain." There's really no need for pleasantries at this point.

Silence stretches before Olivia speaks again, sounding confused.

"Sebastian?"

"It's not what you think."

I can tell the exact moment she comes awake fully. The grogginess leaves her voice and is replaced with icy anger.

"I don't know, the pictures are pretty damning. You know, I thought I was special when I saw the pics from my trip and the way you looked at me. But I guess that's just your default expression whenever the prospect of getting laid is on the table."

"Olivia." I don't know why I can't manage more but words fail me at the moment I need them most.

"Very convenient of you to forget you had a supermodel ex." The anger in her voice is evident but so is the hurt and I feel like shit for being the cause of it.

Sighing, I try to string together my next few words carefully.

"Maya was in town for a family member's funeral. I felt bad for her."

It sounded silly to my own ears but it's the absolute truth.

"So I'm guessing you felt bad for me too when we started our little fling. She looks pretty radiant for someone who's grieving. How'd you pull that off?"   





 

"You're not a fucking fling!" I roar through the phone. "You're everything. You have to believe me, Olivia."

"I don't have to believe anything. I made a mistake by letting down my guard around you. We should have left it all on the island."

"Olivia, don't. You know how I feel about you."

"No, I don't. I don't trust a thing you say. I wouldn't be lying here humiliated if your words were anywhere near the truth. Tell me something. If the shoe was on the other foot and you saw me out with another man, would you be okay with it?"

A beat passes as the line goes silent because she struck a nerve. Hell no, I wouldn't okay with it.

"That's exactly what I thought. You've been territorial over me since before our first kiss. If another man so much as looks at me, you go into an uproar. But you're allowed to walk the streets with your ex after a date and I should just take it?"

Her voice is shaking with anger and I've never felt more disappointed in myself.

"I wasn't think-"

"That much is obvious. But I won't be a part of this little lineup you have. You won't get the chance to embarrass me again, Sebastian. I'm officially removing myself from your sick little roster."

"There is no roster! Would you just fucking listen to me?" I shout in frustration.

"You don't get to be angry with me!" she yells right back, not missing a beat. "I didn't do anything wrong. Unless you count trusting you."

Her words sting, but I don't have time to dwell on them.

"Olivia, please." My voice is pleading. "I didn't do anything with her. She means nothing to me."

"She obviously means enough if you went running as soon as she called."

"It's not like that. I told you I felt bad."

"Well lucky her," comes her snide remark. "Listen, Sebastian. I have to go. Your pathetic excuses are the last thing I need to add to this shitty day. I'm jobless and homeless. I don't really have the extra energy to deal with this at the moment."

Her initial voicemail comes to mind and I want to know what happened. Even though I know the likelihood of her confiding in me is slim to none.

"Olivia, talk to me. What happened, baby?"

"I called to tell you all about it, but you were too busy taking a trip down memory lane to answer me. Look, I clearly misinterpreted my role in your life but I was serious when I texted you earlier. I won't bother you again and that's a promise. Please don't contact me anymore, Sebastian."

"Olivia, wait-"

She hangs up on me.

This isn't over, Olivia.

As soon as I send the text, it bounces back with a generic message informing me that the recipient has blocked me from sending messages.

Furious, I shove everything off my nightstand. The loud crash doesn't even register as I stand there fuming.

This cannot be the fucking end. I refuse to lose her like this.





CHAPTER NINETEEN





OLIVIA KING

One month later …





"But I don't understand, I didn't apply for any scholarship. There must be a mistake. I'm here to pay with a check," I explain.

I'm standing in the middle of the accounting office at Tennessee State and while the lady in front of me is kind looking, she's clearly confused me with some other student.

"My name is Olivia King. K-I-N-G. Maybe it's a popular last name but I assure you I haven't received any scholarships."

Talking with my hands, I shuffle from one foot to another waiting for her to reevaluate her computer screen and recognize the error.

"Honey, I don't know what to tell you; it posted to your account this morning. An anonymous donor set up the funding and you're the only recipient in the whole school," the gray-haired lady informs me.

The only recipient in the whole school.

It doesn't take me long to piece two and two together and come up with Sebastian. There's no way another stranger would feel inclined to randomly cover the cost of my education.

I'm stunned and angered by his interference all at once. He refuses to just leave me alone.

Magically, he found out about the new apartment I've been renting and huge bouquets of peonies arrive every other day. Each time, there's a card attached with a straightforward message letting me know that he has no intention of giving up on us.

The same day I'd received my acceptance letter to nursing school, a brand new car was delivered to my doorstep. Not just any car - a shiny, red BMW with a bow on the hood to be exact. Upon opening the driver's side door, balloons with the word "Congrats" written all over them floated up into the air.

As stunned as I was by the gesture, I haven't driven it once.

No amount of expensive gifts can make me forget the pain he caused me. At least that's what I tell myself. I've been second guessing my decision so much lately.