#Chapter7
The Promise-02
/"Seb, what’s wrong?/" I can hear the worry in his voice.
After a long breath, I give up. I know he’s going to find out. I already told my parents, and I’m sure the news travels fast.
/"I received an emergency call today that’s why I had to leave soon,/" I explain briefly.
/"Wait. What emergency? Is Aunt Jules okay? Or your dad? I don’t think it’s about work because I should’ve known before I left./"
I cut in before he can continue, /"Pat, they’re okay. Don’t worry. Why don’t you pass by, and we’ll talk about it. I don’t want to talk over the phone./"
He knows that I never invited anyone into my lair. I never bring anyone here or throw a party. I stay here on weekdays. It’s close to my office, and I spend my weekend at my house.
/"On my way, Seb. are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t knock up that starlet, did you? Did you really have sex with her? She isn’t your type, you know. You prefer blonde, tall and long-legged. She just wants your pocket while you’re balls deep in her Seb. I can tell it./"
I groan, rubbing my eye, but I know he’s just trying to annoy me.
/"For fuck sake, Pat! I didn’t have sex with her, and I’m 101% sure I didn’t knock her up She isn’t definitely my type, and all she had is my picture and before you can come up with an idea that I have sex video with her, don’t go there./" I pause. /"I’m sure my future wife is not yet even conceive. Get in here before I change my mind and go to sleep./" I hang up.
In less than a minute, I hear a knock. I stand up and walk to the door, and here he is, still in suit one button open, loosened the tie, and wearing a huge grin on his face telling me that he just gets on my nerves.
He’s already inside before I can even say a word. He sits on my black leather couch, while I make my way to my minibar and pour ourselves two glasses of whiskey. I give him his glass then I drink mine instantly. It burnt my throat, but I don’t care. I need this.
I collect liquor and Wine, but I’m always responsible when drinking. I sit on his opposite side and rest my head as I rub my temples.
/"Long day, huh? And man, are you trying to kill me from anticipation? Or are you’re gonna keep me from guessing? I get it. It’s bad news,/" he talks while I’m looking at the high ceiling of my penthouse. I can feel his gaze on me like he can see through my soul.
/"Catie just passed away,/" I blurted out before he can say anything about my scandal. I look at him, and he’s shocked with eyes wide and mouth gapes. He shut his mouth closed and swallows.
/"What? How? When? I mean, how did she die? Are you sure? How did you know? You’re not kidding, are you?/"
/"I was there. And I would never joke about someone’s death, Patrick./" I tell him the entire story minus the envelope. He doesn’t ask anymore, and we have another shot.
/"Poor Mike. Poor daughter. Did you know anything about her daughter?/" he asks me, and I suddenly feel a twist in my stomach.
/"Nope. Never met her, why? Do you know anything about her?/" I ask before I add. /"Yeah, poor Mike. Catie is still young, though. He would call his daughter tomorrow. I’m sure she’d be here soon./"
/"Just asking. She must be hot, you know? Mike and Catie are a fine specimen./"
/"Jesus, Pat. She just lost her mom, and all you can think is she’s hot?/" I’m pissed, and I don’t know why. I am sure it has nothing to do with respecting the mourning family. I suddenly feel overprotective over a woman I’ve never met, which is odd.
/"Jeez, I’m just saying. It’s not that I’m going to bang her. She probably has a boyfriend./"
My chest constricts. Why do I feel this way? I still don’t fucking know.
/"Just have a little sympathy, Patrick. You’re such a whore sometimes./" I glare at him.
/"And what are you, huh? Didn’t your face just appear all over the news lately? With a drunk woman?/"
I groan and press my lips together. /"Thank you for reminding me how an asshole I am? I think I should lie low./" But I know it’s impossible.
/"Don’t let that woman gets into your brain, Seb. It’ll be over soon. That’s your life, and you should enjoy it. Come to think of it. We don’t know when would be our turn, and you only live once./" He’s right, and besides, it’s not new to me anyway, but Dad’s words are a constant reminder.
/"You’re right./" I agree.
/"To hell with those sick bitches and assholes./"
I offer him a toast. /"Don’t get drunk, idiot. You’re driving home. I’m not going to drag your ass to your apartment. You’re not sleeping here./"
/"I should probably go. You look like you need a long sleep./" He rises from his seat and grabs his keys.
/"Are you going to the funeral?/" I ask. Why did I even bother asking him?
/"Sure. I guess we have a funeral to visit./" He shrugs.
/"I guess so./" I slowly nod.
I keep turning in bed and think about what Patrick said. Yeah, maybe she’s hot. Fuck you, Patrick!