Chapter Six: El Lobo Y La Tarjeta

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**
I had to stay behind to give some information to the police about the accident or potential hit and run. It was embarrassing to converse with the officer while I was drunk, but apparently they care less than I thought they would.

"Do you need an officer to take you home?" he asked me when he had acquired all the information he needed.

I shook my head, shifting my weight from one heel to the other to distribute the pain in my feet evenly. "No, I called an uber."

The officer nodded before entering his patrol car. The uber I called was waiting by the corner, and Beth was already on her way over there with Patty while Paul waited for me to finish.

"You alright?" he asked me when I met him on the sidewalk.

"I just want to go home. I feel like shit."

Paul stayed silent as we walked to the uber, and when I turned around, I had this silent hope that I would see Alejandro so I could thank him for saving my life. But he never returned. He was taken away so quickly after the car slammed into the pole that I had not even a second to register where he was going. All he left behind was the smell of his cologne and wrinkles in my blouse from holding me so tightly.

We passed one more cop car before we met our uber. The drunk driver sat in the back, head down, dirt and blood on his face behind a bandage the paramedics patched on him. He was younger in physic but older looking in his face—scruffy beard, bags under his eyes, long black hair slicked back into a ponytail. I met eyes with him once before he looked away with an immense amount of shame in his eyes.

I'm not sure if that shame was for almost hitting me, or for being captured.

**
The following morning, I woke up and immediately ran to the bathroom to throw up what felt like my lungs and my entire liver. My head was pounding and my body felt like it was going through the flu. Thankfully, I didn't have to be at my job to set up my office until Monday, but Sarah calling me and trying to talk about press wasn't going through well with me.

"You're hungover, aren't you?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I groaned into the phone before throwing up again.

**

Today, I feel a lot better. It's Sunday, which means (per usual) I'm spending it answering emails, making phone calls, and setting up appearances for Sebastian via phone with Sarah. Sebastian still hasn't talked to me since our encounter at the interview.

"You aren't innocent in that, either," Sarah tells me when I express this concern to her. "You aren't willing to apologize."

"And what should I be apologizing for?" I tell her. "I mean, he knows I didn't leak the journal and he knows I gave it away out of justifiable anger."

Sarah just sighs. I know she's tired of my bullshit, and sometimes I am, too. But if Sebastian doesn't want to have a productive conversation like the one I tried to have with him last week, then we have nothing to discuss. If we're on the same page professionally, I'm perfectly fine.

Liar, my mind chides. I rub my eyes at my own antics.

When I get up to refill my water glass, I feel an intense pain on my side that makes me hiss loudly.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asks.

"Nothing. My hip just really hurts."

For a moment, I wonder where the pain is from, but then I remember that it's most likely from my hip landing on the street when Alejandro pulled me out of the car's way. I'm reminded of the thank you I have to give him, but at the same time I still feel bothered by his behavior towards me in the club. Is that reason enough not to thank him for saving my life? Of course, not. But my pride tells me that the 'thank you' is all him and I will have between each other outside of the professional relationship that may occur; if Sebastian is working close with his family, then I need to work closely with them, too if I want to create the right image.

"You're getting old on me," Sarah says before laughing. "I'm supposed to be the old one."

"Thirty-three isn't old, Sarah. And besides, you look younger than I do and I'm twenty-seven."

"You're right, there. Latinas age like fine wine."

"I can't even argue with that," I reply honestly before we talk about work again.

**
On Monday, Darcy and I work at setting up my new office, as well as getting business cards and phone lines open. I hired a few workers to help me move everything into my office, which is a wide space bigger than I expected, with large windows overlooking the Los Angeles cityscape. During setup, Darcy told me that she had a few clients who were interested in working with me.

"I told them that I would have you call them back because you've been busy working on press for Sebastian," she says to me. Frankly, that isn't false. But once I think about it, I don't know how I'll be able to take on more than one client. It seems as if Sebastian is consuming so much of my time—time that could be spent publicizing someone else. I don't want my priorities to go to shit if I take on more than I can handle.

"Thank you, Darcy. Just make a note for me on the desk," I say.

After setting up half of my office, I end up having to run over to Harrison Inc. (which, again, is only blocks away) for a contract signing with Han Sin International; the contract with Harrison Inc. is being resigned by Sebastian, when Garrett happened to sign the partnership initially in the eighties.

The signing is held in the CEOs office (I still can't wrap my mind around saying 'Sebastian's office). Inside are press (of course) and a few close business partners that the Board wanted present. The signing is short and sweet; it's obvious that Sarah drilled it into Sebastian's mind to be as civil as possible, because in the business world, the Chinese are known to hold a bit of a grudge, so one wrong move from Sebastian could ruin a thirty-plus year partnership.

As Sebastian takes pictures with Han Sin's president, Chen Hongsheng, Sarah and I converse quietly.

"Don't tell him I told you, but Sebastian was talking about you last night."

I hate how hard my heart is beating. "Really? What did he say?"

"He was worried out of his fucking mind. Apparently, you almost got hit by a car?"

It isn't surprising to me that he found that out.

"It was...yeah, that almost happened."

"Jesus Christ. You alright? No concussion or anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a bit sore. But how did he know?"

"Who knows how Sebastian finds things out. He's got friends in a lot of places, I'm sure someone saw you at that club that night and told him. Look, what's important is that you didn't tell me that Alejandro Quintanilla was there, too."

Every time I hear that name, I feel the need to see his face again as if I've forgotten the distinct sight of him.

"Yeah, he was."

"Sebastian wasn't happy about that."

"Well, who cares what Sebastian is and isn't happy about? He was at the club and I was there, too. It was coincidence. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be dead right now."

"That's not my point."

And like clockwork, Sarah's eyes land on the Quintanilla Family, standing across the room in a close grouping like a pack of wolves, with all of them cold, mean, and unapproachable. But God, how attractive this family is. It's obvious the only thing on their minds is business, but a family as good looking as the Quintanilla Family is bound to have connections in every place and crevice; it's almost as if the Quintanilla's are a Colombian variation of the Harrison Family.

Alejandro is next to his uncle, Salvador, staring at Sebastian taking photos with Han Sin. His eyes are dark and unreadable, but his stature is defensive with his arms crossed against his chest like the men standing behind him. He seemed much nicer and approachable at the club, but now I don't even feel comfortable thanking him like I had planned.

"The Quintanilla's and Harrison Inc. are already an unknown force. No one knows their future since it's obvious Sebastian doesn't trust them like Garrett does. So if you allow yourself to get involved in the wrong way, it's going to start problems."

Sarah's right—so right, I don't even want to listen to her words of wisdom. I already told myself I wouldn't get involved more than I needed to, but hearing her tell me the same thing only to protect Sebastian's ass doesn't sit well with me. What I'm hearing is: "don't do this because we need to make sure Sebastian's happy and safe."

But I don't feel like arguing with Sarah especially, so I nod and excuse myself to tell the press that we'll take a five-minute break. When they disperse, I force myself to walk over to Sebastian.

"That went well," I say to him, purposefully looking down at the iPad Sarah gave me for today. "When the break is over, we arranged for you to take Han Sin's representatives down for a quick tour of the top floor, the Marketing department and Sales."

"Alright," Sebastian says; it seems like ages since he's said something to me.

"Try to be on your best behavior during this. We don't want to fuck this relationship up so early."

"It seems like you don't have faith in me."

"Well, we've seen it happen before, haven't we?"

Did I really just say that?

When I look up at Sebastian, he's staring down at me with that venomous green stare he's infamous for giving someone who's said something he didn't like. But I stare back at him with a holding glare that doesn't let up; he expects me to apologize, but I dare not even let the word "sorry" come out my mouth for saying what I said. So all we do is look evilly at each other until Sebastian rolls his eyes and steps a couple of feet away from me.

"Coffee courtesy of Harrison Inc. Cafe!"

Lucas approaches the both of us just in time with coffee to warm up the ice between Sebastian and me. I take the one that has 'black, two sugars" written on the side while Sebastian takes the other one and sips quietly.

"The barista recognized me as your assistant and gave me the coffee for free," Lucas says happily; he's almost oblivious to the tension between Sebastian and I.

Sebastian smiles modestly. "I appreciate your gratefulness, Lucas."

"Why wouldn't I be grateful?"

"Because some people aren't, you know?"

"God," I scoff at him. "You're so full of shit—"

"Woah, okay," Lucas drawls out with an uncomfortable laugh. His eyes scan the room for Sarah, who is nowhere to be found. So, in an attempt to get the tension to ease a bit, Lucas starts talking about the time in eight grade when he almost got attacked by a Kangaroo while on vacation in Australia. And as he persists with the odd and out of place story, he quickly stops talking when someone joins the group.

"Is this a bad time?" Alejandro asks Lucas, warranting little to no smile in his direction.

Lucas's eyes widen, most likely out of fear since his eyes drop straight down to the tattoos on Alejandro's hands.

"No, no, it isn't. I was actually just going to go...that way."

And then quickly, Lucas is gone. If I'm not lying, I want to follow him. Because the silent discord between Alejandro and Sebastian when they're close to each other is uncomfortable.

Out of politeness, Alejandro shakes Sebastian's hand with a formal greeting that follows, but waits for me to extend my own hand before he shakes mine—for an extended period if I may add.

"This actually isn't a good time," Sebastian tells him coldly. Lucas' answer meant little to nothing, I suppose.

"I came to talk to her," he replies, then looks at me with an ever so slight smile. I start to wonder if the only time he genuinely smiles is when he's drunk, since our sober encounters so far have generated little smiles from his end. Regardless, I'm rendered speechless that this is all happening. I'm also to scared to look at Sebastian and his expression.

Keep it professional, Leslie.

"It's nice to see you again, Alejandro."

He nods. "You're in good health, yes?"

I know he's talking about the drunk driver incident on Friday. I'm under the impression that Alejandro thinks that Sebastian has no idea, but really, I'm confident that Alejandro knows that Sebastian's familiar, and is only doing this to pull a few nerves.

"I am." Keep it professional. "I actually never got to thank you for pulling me out of the way. You left so quickly."

"Do not thank me," he says modestly. "Really, I just came here to see how you were doing."

I swallow hard at the sight of him so close, paired with Sebastian's presence lingering behind me, watching Alejandro as if he means to do me harm.

Breathe.

"I'm doing a lot better, thank you."

Alejandro nods again, as if he's above using simple words.

"And I also want to apologize for the way I acted towards you on Friday," he then says.

"It's fine."

"If you don't mind, I would like to make it up to you somehow."

The look in his eyes makes it hard to formulate words, but I try the best I can.

"That won't be necessary," I reply, though I'm positive he's sure that I'm leading him on.

"We'll see."

Sebastian's eyebrows are furrowed deeply into a frown. Honestly, Alejandro's simple "promise" to make it up to me leaves me speechless. Hell, I want to smile from his harmless "threat," but decide against it.

His face loses a bit of amusement. "And before I forget, my uncle wanted to know if you had a...I don't know how you say it in English, but a tarjeta? A card for—"

"A business card?"

Surprisingly, Alejandro almost laughs at his own mistake. "Yes, sorry. A business card."

I fumble through my small wallet (which is harder to do since my hands are shaking uncontrollably) until I pull out an older business card of mine and hand it to him. He flips it back and forth through his fingers; it almost looks like the wolf on his hand is trying to eat the card itself.

"My assistant's phone number is on there, as well as my work email."

"Leslie King," he reads off the card.

"Yes, that is indeed my name." I'm reminded of how restrictive I was on giving him my name. It had to result in a business card for him to hear it from me.

"Is there any way that I can contact you personally?" Alejandro asks me.

I suck in a sharp breath at his words. "I-I...um...no, it's just t-the—what's on the card. You'd have to call my assistant. Her number's right there on the card."

A smirk teases Alejandro's lips at my embarrassing choice of language.

"Right. Well, thank you for the card."

Alejandro shakes Sebastian's hand, in which you can clearly see that Sebastian does not even want to be near him. But as for me, Alejandro leans down and gives me a gentle kiss on the right cheek before saying farewell and making it back to his family, who happens to be leaving. I'm stunned, flushed deep red, I'm sure. But Sebastian? He's fuming. And it would be horrible of me to say that I'm finding satisfaction in seeing Sebastian so angry.

But I'm finding satisfaction in seeing Sebastian so angry.

Sarah finally comes back and grabs Sebastian's arm. "C'mon. You're up."

Though absent, Sarah clearly sees that something happened. Sebastian won't stop staring at Alejandro with nothing but pure hatred in his eyes, and from this, Sarah gives me a similar look for not listening to what she said before. I apologize with my eyes at her, but it's clearly not enough. But a few seconds later, Lucas returns to the group, utterly confused.

"Well." He looks at Alejandro's distancing figure. "He seemed nice."

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