Filed to story: Watch Out, I’m The Lady Boss (Eleanor & Sebastian) Book PDF Free
Sebastian caught my hand.
“It’s packed. Stay close.”
I laced my fingers through his.
We walked out together.
A black SUV waited at the curb, idling with the air con on blast.
I climbed in and pulled the door shut.
Cold air hit me like a slap.
I sank into the seat and exhaled.
“Finally. I’ve been sweating since baggage claim. How is it this hot in December?”
Sebastian got in on the other side and nodded at the driver.
“Let’s go.” Then to me, “There’s clothes in the bag. You’ll want to change.”
“We heading to the hotel now?”
He handed me a water bottle.
“No hotel. I’ve got a place here.”
“Of course you do.”
He smiled, then stretched his legs out and closed his eyes.
I passed out somewhere along the drive and woke up when the car stopped.
Outside, a two-storey house stood behind a low while gate.
It wasn’t flashy. Small garden, wooden shutters, green lawn with patches of yellow flowers.
The air smelled like soil and cut grass.
No traffic noise. Just wind and some bird making a racket near the roof.
I got out and blinked at the sun.
It felt like spring.
I headed upstairs and opened the first door I found.
A walk-in wardrobe.
The shelves were full. Not just stocked-stuffed.
Dresses, tops, sandals, a dozen different pairs of sunglasses.
All my sizes.
Every piece was something I’d actually wear.
I grabbed a pale green T-shirt from the rail and pulled on a pair of white trackies.
My hair was a mess from the flight, so I yanked it up into a bun, tied it tight, and checked my reflection.
Casual. Clean. Sort of… annoyingly cheerful.
Whatever. Everyone at the airport looked like they were auditioning for a beach holiday.
I could try blending in for once.
Downstairs, I walked straight up to Sebastian, spun once, then turned back around.
“Well?”
He stared for a second too long.
“You look good.”
Then he disappeared upstairs.
Ten minutes later, I heard footsteps.
I looked up and nearly choked.
“Are you serious?”
He was wearing the same outfit. Same green shirt. Same white joggers. Same trainers, down to the stripe on the heel.
Sebastian reached the bottom step and paused like he was on a runway.
His usual wardrobe lived somewhere between “funeral” and “hostile boardroom.”
Mostly black, all tailored, all giving off power vibes.
Now he looked… younger.
Not in a weird Botox way..
Just… less uptight.
He cocked his head.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m adjusting,” I said.
“You walk down the street like that, people are gonna think you’re nineteen.
He grinned.
“That makes you what, sixteen?”
He flicked the tip of my nose.
I stepped back and scowled.
“Why are you dressed like me?”
He shrugged.
“Grabbed the first thing I saw. This was on top.”
“Liar.”
“Innocent,” he said, already pulling me toward the front door.
“Come on. Food.”
I let him hold my hand, but narrowed my eyes.
“Aren’t you here for meetings or something? You walk into a conference room like that, no one’s going to take you seriously. Not unless you’re a tech genius.”
“No meetings today. Might have one later. We’ll see Right now-food.”
“Fine.”
We waited nearly forty minutes for a table at the restaurant I picked, some influencer-hyped spot with plants hanging from the ceiling and tiny plates that looked like they’d been arranged by a drunk raccoon.
The food was bland as hell. No seasoning, no texture, no point.
Waste of a queue.
Somewhere between his second bite of undercooked sea bass and my failed attempt to chew through a mystery leaf, I heard the girls at the next table talking.
“Midtown Crossing’s doing a countdown party tonight.”
My ears perked up.
Sebastian caught it.
“You want to go?”
I nodded.
“It’s once a year, Might as well pretend we’re fun.”
“Then we’re going.”
After we escaped the sad food experience, neither of us felt like heading back to the house.
We walked to a cinema instead and grabbed the last two seats for some horror film with a name that sounded like a prescription drug.
Inside was packed.
People were crammed together, arms bumping over armrests, popcorn spilling everywhere.
Sebastian held onto my hand the whole time, kept me behind him when we queued, like I might get trampled by teenagers in denim jackets.
The film was trash.
Predictable, cheap jump scares, blood that looked like ketchup.
At one point, a zombie launched out of a wardrobe and Sebastian actually flinched.
I burst out laughing.
He leaned in and muttered, “That’s not funny.”