Page 117 of Sebastian's Baby

I slide onto the barstool and figure that I might as well drown my sorrows.

“Sure,” she says with a smile. “That’s good whisky.”

She gets a glass to pour my drink before turning to grab the bottle. As she reaches up for it, her skirt rides up her legs. I know Lita told me to fuck someone else, but I don’t want to do it. I also know that at any given point in the past, I would fuck this bartender without a second thought.

She turns around to face me again and gives me another big smile. Yup. I definitely would’ve fucked her.

“I’m dropping the ground rule for tonight.”

The memory of Lita’s words is painful as the bartender slides the drink across to me.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“You’re welcome.”

She walks away to the other end of the bar and begins stacking glasses as I take a big swig of my drink. I’ve almost finished it when my phone lights up with a text from Lita.

I’m sorry.

I don’t know what to say to that. She’s sorry? Great. What difference does it make? It doesn’t change the fact that I told her that I’m in love with her, and she rejected me.

I pick up my drink, drain the last of it, and hold the glass up as I get the bartender’s attention. “Can I have another one, please?”

“Sure. You want the same?”

I nod, and she pours the drink, then slides it to me before taking the empty glass away. Instead of walking away, though, she just sets it aside on the bar and looks at me.

“How has your day been?”

I snort. “Great. The best, actually. Thanks for asking.”

I lift the glass and look at her while I take a sip. She’s very pretty, but I have no desire to fuck her. This is so fucking bizarre. All I want to do is go home to Lita…who doesn’t want me.

“I kind of get the feeling you’re being sarcastic,” the bartender says and gives me a wry grin.

“I am. What’s your name?” I raise an eyebrow at her as I take another sip.

“Kaylee.”

I nod. “Well, Kaylee, I’m Sebastian Fox, but you already know that.” She flushes pink, and I give a humorless laugh because nothing is funny about this. “I’ve had just about the worst day ever, so feel free to keep that bottle of whisky nearby.”

I take another sip, and she asks, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” I lift my glass and drink a big swig. “But you can feel free to pour me another drink.”

By the time I’ve had her pour me a sixth drink, she’s frowning at me. I don’t care what she thinks of me. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. Except Lita, apparently. I care that she doesn’t love me.

I open my phone and go to her messages, reading it again. I consider whether or not I should say something, but what would I say? I love you? Yeah. Been there, done that. It’s fine? It isn’t fine. I’m not okay with her not loving me and telling me to sleep with someone else.

I torment myself by reading news articles about Lita. There are new ones, including a story of her telling the paparazzi off when she stopped working in the office. She’s so beautiful, and I hate this so much.

“Kaylee!” I call, and she looks over at me from where she’s talking to another customer at the other end of the bar. “Kaylee! Kaylee!”

She says something to them and quickly walks over to me before I call out a fourth time.

“Yes, Sebastian?” She looks a little annoyed.

“I need another drink.” I hold my empty glass up. “See? It’s got nothing in it. I can’t drink nothing, Kaylee!”

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