Page 7 of From Fake Dates to Forever Goals

“I’m fine,” I insist, though my mind is busy concocting ways to put Sebastian back in his place the next time I see him.

“I just hope I can come up with something before my research gets canceled.” Regret seeps into my thoughts. I shouldn’t have danced with Sebastian. I should have stayed focused on Rubin, the one person who could have secured my project’s future.

“Ava, Dr. Anderson would like to have a word with you,” a research assistant announces, popping their head into the office.

I swallow a deep breath as my stomach twists. Annie gives me a thumbs-up, her silent way of wishing me luck. But as I walk toward the director’s office, it feels like my entire world is crumbling around me.

“How’s the research going so far?” Dr. Anderson asks with a warm smile as I take a seat across from her.

“It’s going well. In fact—” I begin to explain, hoping to salvage the situation, but she interrupts me.

“You’re aware I granted you an extension,” she says pointedly.

I nod, choosing my words carefully. “All I need is an investor,” I say, though inwardly, I’m cursing Sebastian. If it weren’t for his insatiable need for the spotlight, I could have nailed my presentation, and Rubin might already be on board.

“I was getting to that, actually,” she says sweetly, her tone at odds with the gravity of her words.

“I’m afraid if you don’t secure an investor in the next couple of weeks, we won’t be able to move forward with your project.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I gasp, scrambling for the right thing to say, but my mind is blank. Without an investor, the project is doomed. The chance of running into Rubin again? Practically nonexistent, unless he miraculously decides to host another gala this year.

“I understand,” I finally manage, though the words taste bitter.

“I have faith in you, Ava,” Dr. Anderson says as I leave her office.

Well, at least one of us does.

“Why don’t you just try to get a hold of him?” Annie asks, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Who? Sebastian?” I nearly choke on my coffee.

“Why not? He knows Rubin, and after what he did, it’s the least he could do.”

She’s right, but the thought of asking Sebastian Kane for help makes my stomach churn.

“No. I wouldn’t ask him if he were the last person on this planet.”

Annie gives me an inquisitive look. “Something tells me this resentment goes way back.”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “It’s a long story.”

“You know me. Ilovelong stories,” Annie says with a laugh, clearly not letting this go.

Her curiosity is relentless, and it’s obvious she won’t stop until she gets answers.

“The only reason Sebastian ever played well was because of my dad,” I finally admit, sighing. “He kept Sebastian focused andmade sure his head stayed in the game. But now? He’s lost his spark, chasing after shiny things.”

Annie looks amused. “You’ve known Sebastian for three years, and this is the first time I’m hearing about him?”

“I remember one time he missed practice and faked an injury, showing up on crutches. Then, just 48 hours later, his face was all over the papers—clubbing with some model.”

Annie’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“He lied to his coach?”

“He lied to my father,” I correct. “And my dad was so furious he refused to coach him after that. Sebastian begged for forgiveness, though, and my dad, with his big ‘ole soft heart, gave him another chance.”

I can still vividly recall the way my father’s face turned red with anger that day.

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