“I hate it.” I can’t keep the venom from my voice.
He snorts. “You’re joking, right? This looks like a whole new place!”
“That’s the problem.”
He frowns at me, like he thinks I’m crazy. He doesn’t understand.
No one understands. Everyone has already forgotten, moved on from Ned.
Everyone but me.
“When do you think you’ll be finished?” Sebastian asks, taking over the conversation.
“By noon.”
“Thank you. She’ll be fine.”
I’m both relieved and irritated with Sebastian for speaking on my behalf. He’s wrong. I will not be fine. But I don’t want to have to explain that to anyone.
With one last wary look at me, Fausto and the guy working on the baseboards disappear into the back.
“This kind of change was inevitable,” Sebastian says.
I pull away from his hands and scan the space again. “Then why does it feel so wrong?”
We stand in the middle of the empty, lifeless room for a long moment, until finally he says, “Maybe painting it isn’t the issue.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s the issue.” I sneer at the empty white walls. Something about plain white walls drives me crazy. I need color and personality—art.
“Maybe selling this place is the issue. Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Not you too,” I grumble. Which reminds me, I need to talk to Ian again.
He chuckles. “You made the decision to sell and leave San Francisco when you were upset. You made it so you could run.”
“You say that like you know me.” He’s right, though.
“But maybe that’s not the right decision for you anymore,” he goes on, ignoring my sarcasm. “Maybe, deep down, you want to stay here. Maybe you have a reason to stay now.”
“What would that reason be?” Is this Sebastian’s way of asking me not to leave San Francisco because he’s here? Because if he is . . .
I desperately want that to be the reason.
I’ve known this guy for days, and yet I feel like I’ve been through so much with him. Is this what happens with his clients, too? Do they form hard-and-fast bonds with their bodyguard when he’s shuttling them around, responsible for their well-being, protecting them from harm, spending long periods of time with them? That I’ve just been through a traumatic event only amplifies my dependence on him, I’m sure.
And it also probably doesn’t help that I’m sleeping with him.
I sure as hell hope he doesn’t usually do that with his clients, too.
I’m definitely guessing he doesn’t ask them to go to Greece with him. That has to mean something.
Right?
This is not me. I don’t form dependencies on people, especially guys.
And yet I can’t push him away.
I sense Sebastian approaching me from behind, but I don’t turn. His hands on my hips and the feel of his rough jaw against my cheek as he leans in make me shiver.
Settling his chin on top of my head, he murmurs, “It doesn’t look bad. It’s different, yeah. A bit cold . . .”
I snort. “It’s so cold, it’s icy. I guess that’s why Fausto called it Ice. I hate it. It isn’t me.”
Sebastian hesitates, his body going slightly rigid against my back. “Then make it you. Add enough of Ivy to it to bring it back to life.”
“And then what?”
“Then keep it. Run it.” He spins me around to face him, tipping my chin up until I meet his gaze. “Stay here and make sure you really want this. You can always walk away later.”
I don’t think he’s talking about Black Rabbit right now. “I don’t know the first thing about actually running a shop, though.”
“Do you know anyone who does?”
“My cousin.” And Ian is all on board for keeping it open. “He has a place in Dublin.”
“I’m sure he’ll help you out. It can’t be that hard.” His eyes wander over the corners. “I can upgrade the security system for you. You need something better than a VCR.”
“You know how to do that, too?”
He smirks. “I’m a man of many talents.”
I take a deep breath and begin surveying the walls under a new light.
An Ivy light.