Page 9 of From Fake Dates to Forever Goals

Annie stands silently beside me, her gaze flicking between us like she’s watching a live soap opera.

“I could tell you missed me,” Sebastian says with that infuriatingly cocky humor.

“You’rereallybad at reading people because that’s completely not true,” I snap.

Any self-respecting man would have walked away after that, but not Sebastian. He just stands there, smiling like he’s untouchable.

Sebastian carries on, trying to maintain his cocky demeanor while Annie watches the interaction with great enthusiasm.

“I’m not as bad as you think,” Sebastian says with a smirk.

“You’re wasting my time, Sebastian.” I take a step forward, hoping he’ll move out of the way. Instead, he steps even closer, hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” he says out of nowhere.

I blink, stunned. Did Sebastian Kane just apologize? He’s never apologized for anything.

“I actually came here to discuss something important,” he continues, his expression shifting from sarcastic to something almost... sincere.

“Oh, you mean like how you ruined my life?”

Annie’s eyes widen in horror as realization dawns on her. “You’re Sebastian Kane?” she asks, her voice filled with awe.

Sebastian nods confidently, as if Annie had just paid him the highest compliment.

I’m surprised she didn’t recognize him sooner.

“You must’ve seen me on TV,” Sebastian adds, his ego on full display.

“Sorry, I’m not a sports fan,” Annie says, giving him a sharp side-eye.

Sebastian’s confidence visibly deflates, and I have to admit, it’s a beautiful sight.

“I’m not sure what you mean by ruining your life,” Sebastian says, attempting to regain his composure. “But we could talk about it over lunch.”

“Did he just ask you out to lunch?” Annie whispers in my ear.

“No. I’m having lunch with afriend,” I reply, giving her a pointed look.

“I’m not that hungry,” Annie says, pushing me forward with a mischievous grin. “I think you two should go.”

I glare at her, knowing exactly why she’s doing this. She wants me to talk to Sebastian because he might be my only chance to pitch my idea to Rubin McNeal.

After a long pause, I reluctantly agree.

We end up at a small café a block away from my office.

“This place is cozy,” Sebastian remarks, though it’s obvious he’s unimpressed by the modest ambiance. That, at least, brings me a small measure of joy.

I order a salad while Sebastian sips a glass of sparkling water, his confidence as unshaken as ever.

“You said you have something important to talk about,” I remind him, glancing at my watch to signal he doesn’t have all day.

“Actually, I’d like to know how, exactly, I ruined your life,” Sebastian says, his tone casual, as if the answer isn’t obvious.

“You really have no idea?” I ask, unsure whether he’s pretending or genuinely clueless.

Sebastian stares at me blankly.

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