Page 29 of One Week Wingman

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” my mom is already celebrating. She starts brainstorming all the fun family activities we can do, but luckily, my phone buzzes with a text from Nita.

I check it.‘Happy hour at the bar? We want to meet your Stefano? ;)’

I smile in relief.‘YES PLEASE.’

Drinks with Nita and Evan will be a welcome break from all the fake dating. I’ve already filled her in via early-morning text about Sebastian’s surprise appearance, so we won’t have to pretend anything with them.

“We’d love to stay, but we’re meeting Nita at the bar,” I interrupt mom, as she says something about matching family sweatshirts.

“That sounds like fun,” she smiles.

“What sounds like fun?” Daisy appears.

“We’re just grabbing a drink in town,” I say quickly, tugging Seb away before this can turn into a group outing.

Too late.

Daisy lights up. “I’ll call Jason, I bet he’d love to come.”

Dammit.

“Why don’t you meet us there?” I suggest, still backing away. “I’d hate to leave Nita waiting.”

“See you soon!”

It’s justa short walk to the bar, and the streets are all hazy with that sunset glow, the leaves bright in reds and golds, crunching underfoot. “Needed a break, huh?” Seb asks, shooting me a questioning look as we stroll.

“Just a little one. Daisy can be… a lot,” I admit. “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but spending any time with her is like… Walking around as an extra in someone else’s story.”

“How do you mean?” Seb asks.

“She’s got such a big personality,” I explain wryly, “And her charisma is something else. She walks into a room, boom: She’s the center of attention, everybody wants to know her. Living away from home, I forget sometimes, how that can make me feel a little invisible.”

Seb gives a wry smile. “I know the feeling.”

“You, invisible?” I repeat, laughing. “Sure. You get zero attention, couldn’t pick you out of a crowd.”

“Not these days, but growing up,” Seb says, with an awkward looking shrug. “My parents weren’t exactly cut out for having kids. Or small animals. Or houseplants. Anything that required care or nurturing of any kind,” he jokes, but I can tell there’s something real beneath the quips.

I glance over. “Not the greatest family?” I ask, realizing I don’t know anything about his background, aside from the fact the other guys at the bar tease him for being a rich bastard.

Seb gives another shrug. “It was fine. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds, “I know I was fortunate, I had everything I needed—and more. Boarding school, trips, you name it, they wrote the check. I got to study abroad in college, which was where I met the guys, and saw the life I could build for myself here. But did they have an entire cabinet in the living room devoted to my middle school report cards and ribbons like yours do? No,” he says with a grin. “The only thing that got that kind of real estate was my mom’s prized collection of taxidermy rabbits.”

“No!” I laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Live animals, she couldn’t deal with, but dead ones? She knew them all by name.” Seb keeps a straight face for a moment, then dissolves into laughter. I hit him on the arm.

“You had me going there!”

“Sorry,” he recovers, still chuckling. “But she does have an extensive collection of fur coats, passed down through the family. Who knows, if our fake engagement pays off, maybe you’ll be the next lucky owner?”

I shudder at the thought.

Seb comes to a stop. “Is this the place?” he asks, looking across the parking lot at the grimy dive bar we all just know as Duke’s. It’s a squat brick building with a winking neon sign, and a couple of guys smoking out front.

“We’re a long way from Manhattan,” I advise him, leading him to the doors. “If you order a martini and quiz them about the provenance of their gin, they might have to toss you out the doors.”

“I can rough it,” he assures me, smirking. “Look, I’ve still got mud under my fingernails from getting down and dirty with your mom.”

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