120 An Unwelcome Call and a Fluttering Heart
Hazel’s POV
I stared at Sebastian’s name on my phone screen, suddenly nervous about answering. Taking a deep breath, I swiped to accept the call.
“Hello?” My voice came out softer than intended.
“Ms. Shaw,” Sebastian’s deep voice had a gentle quality that took me by surprise. “I apologize for sending the car without asking first. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience.”
“Not at all,” I replied quickly. “Though I’m perfectly capable of getting home on my
own.”
“I’m well aware of your capabilities.” There was a smile in his voice. “Consider it a courtesy, nothing more.”
A small part of me wondered if there was more to his kindness, but I pushed the thought away. “Thank you,” I said simply. “But you still haven’t told me why you called earlier.”
There was a brief pause. “I wanted to check if you’d recovered from our dinner the other night. I realize the conversation became rather… intense.”
The memory of his hand over mine flickered through my mind. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” Another pause. “You asked why I’m being kind to you.”
I felt my cheeks warm. “That was forward of me. You don’t have to explain.”
“No, it’s a fair question.” His voice dropped slightly. “Perhaps I simply recognize someone worth being kind to.”
Before I could formulate a response, he continued, “It’s late. You should rest. Get that scratch properly cleaned.”
“I did,” I said, glancing at my bandaged arm.
T
“Good. Goodnight, Hazel.”
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
After we hung up, I sent him a quick text:
“Home safe. Thank you again for the car.”
I didn’t expect an immediate reply, given the hour, but my phone pinged moments later.
“Rest well.”
I smiled at the brief message, feeling strangely comforted. Setting my phone down, I prepared for bed, thoughts of Sebastian Sinclair following me into my dreams.
The next morning, I checked my phone and noticed the timestamp on Sebastian’s last message: 3:04 AM. A pang of concern hit me-did this man ever sleep? It seemed both of us had workaholic tendencies, but even I had my limits.
Rushing through my morning routine, I headed for the subway. The car Sebastian had sent yesterday was a one-time courtesy, not a permanent arrangement-which was for the best. I valued my independence too much to become reliant on anyone’s generosity.
As the train rattled down the tracks, my phone rang. Unknown number. I almost ignored it, but decided to answer.
“Hello?”
“YOU VICIOUS MONSTER!” A woman’s shrill voice blasted through the speaker, causing several nearby passengers to stare. I quickly turned down the volume.
“Excuse me?” I kept my voice even, stepping off at my stop and finding a quiet corner
in the station.
“DON’T PLAY INNOCENT! YOU TRIED TO KILL MY SON!”
Realization dawned. Gloria Everett-Alistair’s mother.
“Mrs. Everett,” I said calmly, “I assume Alistair told you about our encounter.”
“HE’S IN THE HOSPITAL! You stabbed him, you psychotic witch!”
I nearly laughed at the absurd accusation. “I did no such thing. If Alistair’s injured, it was by his own doing.”
“LIAR! He told us everything-how you lured him to your studio and attacked him with
20.80
2/4
scissors!”
The distortion of truth was breathtaking. “Mrs. Everett, security cameras in my building will show that Alistair came uninvited and became aggressive. If anyone was attacked, it was me.”
“Always playing the victim!” she spat. “Haven’t you done enough damage? First you try to trap my son in marriage, then you steal his company, and now this!”
My patience evaporated. “Your son gave me half the company as compensation for canceling our wedding three days before the ceremony. As for yesterday, he scratched my arm-I have the marks to prove it. If he’s hurt, perhaps you should ask him how it happened.”
“How DARE you—”
“No, how dare YOU call and harass me.” My voice remained steady but cold. “Don’t contact me again unless it’s through lawyers.”
I ended the call, hands trembling slightly with lingering anger. The Everetts truly were unbelievable-twisting everything to make Alistair the victim, just as they’d done when he left me for Ivy.
Taking a deep breath, I continued my walk to the studio. I wouldn’t let Gloria Everett’s histrionics derail my day. I had new clients to meet, designs to finalize, and an increasing workload now that word was spreading about Evening Gala’s independent direction.
By late morning, I’d successfully pushed the unpleasant phone call from my mind. My assistant, Lucy, had scheduled back-to-back client meetings, and I found myself energized by the creative discussions. This was what I loved-bringing visions to life through fabric and design.
Between appointments, I quickly checked my emails, firing off responses and reviewing the latest fabric shipment details. Just as I was about to meet my next client, my phone rang.
Sebastian Sinclair’s name flashed on the screen.
My heart did something strange-a little flip that caught me by surprise. I felt my lips curving into an involuntary smile as I reached for the phone, suddenly eager to hear his voice.
120 An Unwelcome Call and a Fluttering Heart
The flutter in my chest was something I hadn’t felt in a very long time-something I wasn’t sure I was ready for, but couldn’t seem to resist.
I answered the call.
