There was a woman sitting on the steps of the townhouse. She looked up as Chelsea and Sebastian approached, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. She was pretty, in an exceedingly plastic-surgeried sort of way. And she stood up at the sight of Sebastian and began sobbing anew the moment the cameras started rolling.
He made a pained sound and gestured at the woman. “Chelsea, meet Lisa.”
* * *
So that was an awkward afternoon , Chelsea mused as she unpacked her clothing in her new room. While she’d known that the marriage thing wasn’t going to be all daisies at the beginning, she hadn’t anticipated being called a whore by her new, crazy mother-in-law, and being sobbed on by the “jilted” ex. Or rather, the woman who imagined herself jilted. And even though she knew all of it was set up for a scene to make television, she found herself sitting on the steps with Lisa, trying to comfort her while Sebastian threw his hands into the air.
She’d ended up promising Lisa a lunch date, which would probably be filmed on camera. That was fine; Chelsea didn’t care.
They’d managed to shake off “Mama Precious” and Lisa and eventually settled into the town house. Sebastian had given her the grand tour, turning on lights as he went room to room. It was thoughtful of him to remember her paranoia. The town house itself was rather sparsely decorated, with pale gray walls and a few abstract paintings and stark, somber furniture. It looked like someone’s corporate office rather than a lived-in home. At least it was well lit, with track lighting and several windows facing out into the street.
The town house also boasted several bedrooms and bathrooms, one of each which had been promised to Chelsea. She picked the most well-lit bedroom, even though it was the smallest. It had a carved cherrywood twin bed and a matching dresser and a vase of fake flowers that screamed “decorator” all over it. There was a bathroom right outside in the hall and while it was tiny, there was enough counter space for her to at least start to set up her soap kitchen. He had two kitchens in his town house, but she felt . . . weird about occupying so much space. Like she was intruding. So for now, she was setting up in the bathroom.
Even taking over one of the bathrooms made her feel uncomfortable. It was odd to set up in a stranger’s house. Especially when it was a house that was so much bigger than her last apartment. The place she’d shared with Pisa was six hundred square feet and two tiny bedrooms. This one was three floors and many, many bedrooms, along with a media room, a formal dining room, a study, and a room she wasn’t allowed to go in.
Seriously. Sebastian had shown her around the place and then declared the room at the end of the hall off limits. It was even locked and everything.
And, okay, that was creepy. She even told him that and he looked chagrined. He told her it was a private study and messy and he’d show it to her when it was cleaned up. But still.
Maybe tonight she’d push the dresser in front of her door, just in case.
But as she settled in for the night and it grew late, she became increasingly agitated. She had the lights on in her room, but the blackout they’d had in New Orleans kept coming to mind and she didn’t feel safe. What if the lights went out again? Then she’d be in this strange place with no one familiar. The thought made worry start crashing through her, and by the time she crawled into her narrow, unfamiliar bed, she was practically trembling with fear despite the cheery light flooding the room.
She stared up at the ceiling for a good half hour, utterly terrified. The town house was silent. She could hear the occasional distant traffic outside, but this residential street was a lot quieter than her old apartment and she felt isolated. Scared.
She wondered what Sebastian was doing and if he’d mind company.
On her bad nights, she used to crawl into bed with Pisa for a sisterly snuggle. Nothing weird, just the comforting presence of knowing another living being was with her and that they’d protect her. But Pisa was in Austin now, and from the texts she’d gotten from her friend over the last week, she was loving it. She sat up in bed and reached for her phone on the bedside, contemplating a late-night text.
But she’d still be alone.
Again, she thought about Sebastian. He hadn’t minded sleeping with her back at the hotel. She wondered if she could impose on him again. Part of her was ashamed for being so weak, but the bigger part of her didn’t care. She just wanted the fear to go away.
So she crawled out of her unfamiliar bed and put on a pair of flannel pajama pants. Normally she slept in a tank top and panties, but she suspected Sebastian wouldn’t be a fan of that if she trotted into his room half-naked and wanting to share the blankets.
That was the good thing about Sebastian. He didn’t think with his dick, which made him safe.
Chelsea padded out of her room and down the brightly lit hallway, heading for Sebastian’s room. Not the locked “mystery” room but his bedroom. The door was shut and she knocked gently.
He opened it a moment later, dressed in an undershirt and boxers. A notepad was tucked in his hand, along with a pencil, and his dark hair looked tousled, as if he were getting ready for bed. “You okay?”
She wiggled her feet on the hardwood floors and clasped her hands in front of her breasts. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” At his surprised look, she added, “I’m a little freaked out about the new room and I know you’re safe.”
Sebastian studied her face, then nodded, opening the door a bit wider.
She crawled into his enormous bed, noting the decor here was just as sterile and gray as the rest of the house. Here, though, there were a dozen fluffy pillows to get lost in, and only one corner of the bed had been disturbed by Sebastian. She bounded onto the other side, feeling a bit like a kid with a sleepover, and grabbed a pillow. “I appreciate it, Basty.”