Chapter Twenty-Three: From Stormy Skies to Sunny Shores

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**
Before embarking on my week-long vacation to Barcelona with the Quintanilla's, I intended to leave everything on a high note with everyone else back home. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. Not at all.

Currently, I'm on a private jet to Barcelona by myself, courtesy of the Quintanilla's (well, technically I'm not by myself—Julio is with me, ordered to ride with me to keep me company). I left later than the Quintanillas due to setbacks, so I was unable to ride in the same jet as them. They were nice enough to assign me to one of their other aircrafts that they owned so I was well-accommodated regardless of the fact that I caused a bit of a delay for them, too. They have been the only ones with kind hearts and clear intentions since Alejandro dropped me off at my apartment from the party. You may be thinking, "What about Sebastian? Wasn't he there for you when you were crying in your apartment?" He was. And I'm grateful for that. But he ruined that gratitude.

Very quickly.

**

When he came over to my apartment last week, he held me as I cried and watched an episode of Say Yes to the Dress with me before I fell asleep on his shoulder. When I woke up, I was in my bed, blinded by the sun's rays burning my sensitive eyes. I didn't know if he carried me to my room or woke me up and hauled my sluggish body to my room. Either way, that warm feeling inside of me still lingered around even though he was gone.

I got dressed and continued on with my day with the intention of working until I couldn't remember the night before. My dad kept calling me over and over again until I finally called him back and told him I was busy. Then, we began to argue—arguing about ignoring the problem, about his lies and his cheating.

"I already told you that I wanted to speak with you about this in person," he snapped at me. I sat down at my desk and ignored the calls pouring in on my office phone.

"I don't have time right now, dad. I'm busy. I need to go."

"No, don't you dare hang up on me!" he yelled. I was stunned silent. It had been years since he yelled at me, especially like that; he had the kind of yelling voice that was like a wave swallowing the world whole.

"Why are you running away from this?" he asked. "I want to talk to you, Leslie. Why won't you let me?"

"Because I have more important things to handle right now, Dad. Seriously. I need to go."

He was upset with me. I heard him mumble that I was just like "her," but he thought I didn't hear him. He let me go, and officially, the problems that would proceed until leaving for Spain began. Darcy was busy emailing everyone and notifying them of my absence that week, and many of them responded with questions about my clients instead of a concrete "I understand." My head was throbbing; I had consumed enough coffee to send me bouncing against the walls, but it was doing the opposite for me.

Wednesday came along and everything seemed to get worse. I was running around to events and meetings for Sebastian as well as meeting with a few managers who wanted me to represent their "talented" clients. I felt like I was going to scream; my feet were aching beyond compare. I had gotten in contact with the director of the AFA—the non-profit that Sebastian wanted to work with—and spoke with her about meeting in person after I came back from Barcelona. She dragged out the conversation, saying that she would be in this country doing this and at this charity event doing that. I had to rearrange my schedule three times to fit her needs, but as I was pushing back important gigs for Claire and rearranging meetings with journalists as well as charity events that Sebastian needed to go to himself, I reminded myself that it was for Sebastian; he was passionate about the AFA, so I was going to make sure that we didn't mess up our relationship with them so early in the game.

Wednesday evening, Sebastian was scheduled to speak at a high school in Long Beach. The turnout was more than expected; apparently, Sebastian resonated well with adolescent children. Sebastian tried several times to ask if I was alright since the last few times I answered, he didn't believe my answer; my lie: "I'm fine." Eventually, he let it go and proceeded with meeting with the kids and their parents, shaking their hands, talking to parents, taking pictures for the press and so on. Sarah asked to see the script I had written up for him, but instead of praising me for getting it done on such short notice (the high school asked Sebastian to speak last week, and Sarah scheduled it without running it by me thoroughly first), she had the audacity to yell at me because it was, quote on quote, "half-assed." I just stared at her as her 'Latina wrath' (as she called it) unleashed upon me in front of the entire crew backstage. I knew she was tired, too; I could see it in her eyes. But for her to yell at me about a script that I had little time to write was insulting. I stood, flabbergasted, before I yelled at her in return. And we began arguing until Claude and Sebastian broke it up, Sebastian suggesting I take a walk like I was the problem. So, I did. I took a walk through the halls and sat in the library with the kind elderly janitor who gave me a few valuable lessons on life; he saw how upset and stressed I was.

"You keep walking through life as quickly as you do, you'll blink then poof!" he exclaimed. "It will be gone. Be careful about being so goddamn eager to help people who don't even think about you when they rest their head, missy."

He went on to talk about his ex-wives and how they walked all over him, but unfortunately, I told him that I had to go and get Sebastian ready for his speech. But those janitor's words stuck with me the rest of the week. As I was packing that night, I kept thinking about that wise man's words until they resonated with me. So, I took it upon myself to let everyone know that I had intentions of enjoying my trip.

When I got the chance to tell them.

I was set to leave Friday evening, and Friday morning was when I had to meet with Samantha about getting her an internship. Samantha came in extra early, bright eyed and eager, but still weary after what happened at her party. I asked her not to talk about it.

"This day is about you and your internship," I said. "I'm going to help you as best as I can. There are some really good Press Representatives here. A good resume will surely reel them in."

Samantha smiled hesitantly, like she was shocked we were working together on something. But at the end of the day, she's still my little sister. If she needs help with something as big as her career, I'll be there for her.

We worked on her resume for a couple of hours before Darcy came into my office with word that Sarah needed me at Harrison Incorporated. I was curious as to why she couldn't come to my office for an inquiry, but I sighed and agreed to head over there anyway. I told Samantha to come with me; she was excited, tagging along with a publicist.

When we got there, Ava guided us to Sebastian's office. She was curious about who was with me, so I lied and said that Samantha was my second assistant. Ava shrugged it off and opened Sebastian's office door where Sebastian, Sarah and an unfamiliar male were sitting at the couches.

"I hope you don't mind," I said to Sebastian when they all stood. "I was with my sister when you called."

"Oh no, it's fine," he said, kindly introducing himself to Samantha. Samantha was a bit star struck, to say the least. She didn't know what to say when he shook her hand.

The male who was unfamiliar to me happened to be a man named Doug Wagner, who was a partner with Harrison Incorporated who wanted to put together a fundraiser at an amusement park for both of their companies. My mood immediately dampened when I realized what they wanted me there for.

Planning the press for the event.

I sat down. "Is your event coordinator around?" I asked him.

"Oh, no. Not today," Doug said. "Right now, I just wanted to get the gist of the idea down with you. I hope that's okay?"

Sebastian and Sarah obviously weren't listening when I told them that I left for Spain Friday evening. But regardless, I sat quiet and listened to Doug Wagner speak. For an hour. And after that, he and Sebastian took us to the Marketing department, where we could speak to the director about the amusement park event. Doug was so goddamn adamant about an event that wasn't even set in stone; he wasn't even with his publicist, his event coordinator, his secretary, or even his COO, yet here he was, keeping me here to take care of all the "nitty gritty stuff." I ended up telling Samantha to leave because I knew how boring it was for her to stay.

"Are you sure?" she asked, knowing how irritated I was becoming; my skin was hotter than a stove top.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm positive. We'll finish your resume when I get back from my trip, okay?"

And after more convincing, Samantha finally left me alone in that conference room. I checked my watch—2:35PM. Alejandro said he would pick me up from my house around 3:00PM.

"Excuse me," I said while Sebastian talked about ticket prices. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but would it be possible for us to finish this another time? I really have somewhere to be."

I expected everyone to be understanding, but they all stared at me like I was the rudest person they had ever encountered. I did remember the words that the elderly janitor at the high school told me, but at the same time, I had to weigh it out: Spanish getaway, or my job? And I pondered this as I looked at Sebastian; I expected him to defend me from the glares, but he just sat there, looking at the table or out the window; anywhere but me. And I cursed myself for having the ridiculous idea, but it still came to me:

Was Sebastian trying to intentionally sabotage my trip?

The rage started to slowly rise inside of me, but I kept it pushed down. I decided to stay the entire meeting which got out around 2:50PM. Even though late, I still had time to get home. I would just have to call to give Alejandro a heads up about the small delay.

When I dialed his number, he picked up on the third ring.

"Bueno?"

"Alejandro, it's Leslie."

"I've been waiting to hear your voice today," he complimented. "Amor, listen, the driver is on his way now," Alejandro laughed over the sounds of his family and friends; they were chatting about the trip. "My cousin's friends are excited to meet you."

I smiled; the first genuine smile that entire day. "I am, too. I hope it's okay; I might be ten to fifteen minutes late getting to my house. I got caught up in this 'emergency' meeting. Is that alright?"

"Don't worry about it, esta bien. I'll tell him to wait."

I sighed. "Thank you."

After hanging up, I walked out into the hall and rushed towards the elevator, but upon hurrying down the hall and making the corner, I heard two familiar voices—Claude and Penny. Being the nosy person I am, I hid behind the corner and eavesdropped on their secretive conversation.

"He isn't being paranoid," Claude told her. "You know how they are."

"I know, but come on? She's a grown woman, Claude. When is it going to stop?"

"When we know that she's safe."

"So, delaying the trip means keeping her safe—"

"We aren't delaying the goddamn trip, Penny," Claude snapped. "We're just buying ourselves some time so that way we can get all of our contacts over there finalized. That way we can cover our asses."

I knew it. I fucking knew it. So, this "amusement park" bullshit was some ploy to make me miss the flight? I wondered how and why Sebastian would do this to me, but more specifically, why Claude spoke so seriously about keeping me safe? But oh, that's not the last of it. Not at all.

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Penny asked Claude. "You know the Quintanillas are guarded up the fucking ass. There's no touching them over there. Especially Alejandro. Hell, I wouldn't mess with him, even on a good day."

"That's exactly who we're keeping an eye on: Alejandro."

"Sebastian's probably worried that Leslie will, you know, 'spread eagle' and stuff."

Claude cocked an eyebrow at Penny as she laughed. "Spread eagle?"

"Remember when we were driving to the Quintanilla's and Sebastian was pissed because he thought that Leslie and Alejandro were going to fuck while they were over there?"

"Oh, I remember." Claude scoffed. "Now that is paranoia."

"Well, the way he spoke about it, he made it seem like it wouldn't take much for Leslie to fuck him, you know? The tattoos and the Spanish accent, just like Sebastian said."

"Like I said, that is paranoia."

"I don't know," Penny shrugged. "He made it seem like Leslie was easy: a hot guy and bam, she'll sleep with him. Is that true?"

"I doubt it. She's a classy lady."

"He seems to think so."

"'He' says anything when he's angry, especially when it's about Alejandro—"

Penny and Claude immediately stopped their conversation. They saw me peaking by the wall; I didn't even try to hide the fact that I was eavesdropping. But when they knew that I heard everything they said, a wave of regret washed over their faces.

"Shit," Claude mumbles before walking towards me. "Leslie, wait."

I didn't wait for him. Instead, I stomped right over to the conference room where everyone still stood and talked. I was so fucking hurt that it was difficult to breathe; maybe that's why I wasn't thinking straight when I walked into that room and went off on Sebastian.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked him, quietly but angrily. Sebastian was overcome with this profound confusion at the fact that I was saying this to him, but once Penny and Claude entered the room, it became clear to him what I was talking about.

"Leslie—"

"'Spread eagle?' Are you serious? How could you say something like that about me? After everything I do for you, you disrespect me like that?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, desperate to defend himself. "I was just...I wasn't thinking straight and it just came out."

"It just came out." I laughed dryly. "Words like that don't just 'come out.' You must really think of me that way."

"No! No, of course not!"

"Then why is it perfectly fine for you to sleep with as many women as you want, but the moment I show interest in a man that isn't you, it's a problem?"

He didn't have an answer, he just sighed and rubbed his eyes. And as I waited, the hurt in my chest weighed me down even more. It didn't hurt in terms of the words, but more of who said them; days before, he was comforting me about such a huge problem in my personal life, holding me and consoling me with sweet words. And after feeling this need to work even harder for him that week as his publicist, going above and beyond and breaking my back because of this companionship he showed me, I had to find this out?

"Leslie, I'm sorry," is all he could say. No explanation, no defense, no...anything. Just 'sorry.' I was tired of 'sorry' by that point, and he knew it, too.

"And to make matters worse, you deliberately sabotage my trip to Spain by adding even more work on my shoulders?"

Now that accusation made Sebastian's face drain out. His eyes shifted up to Claude and Penny, who were guilty with their big mouths. Sebastian was defenseless and left out to dry in front of a whole room of people. And I knew he wasn't going to tell me exactly why he decided to try and ruin my trip, so I didn't even ask him.

"I slaved for you this week, Sebastian," I vented. "I haven't been able to sleep properly in days because of all of the work I've stayed up late doing. You, more than anyone in here, know of the personal issues I'm going through in my life, but I sucked it up and bent over backwards for you. And the one thing I looked forward to this week—the one thing that kept a smile on my face—was knowing that today, I would be on a plane to Barcelona where I would be able to take a break for once. Why would you try to ruin that for me?"

The guilt was destroying him at this point. "I...I just...I don't trust—"

"Alejandro," I finished for him. "You don't trust Alejandro. And because you don't trust Alejandro, you disrespected me and tried to sabotage my trip to Spain by making me do even more work for you? That's just wrong." There's a break in my ranting where I wonder if I even want to keep talking to Sebastian. "At this point, I feel like I can trust Alejandro more than I can trust you."

When I said those words, it ruined him inside. But what ruined him more was seeing how fucked up his "plan" was; how juvenile it was to talk about your publicist—your friend—in that way out of paranoia, jealously, whatever it was that Sebastian felt compelled him to do those things.

"You aren't my dad, you aren't my boyfriend and right now, I'm contemplating if you're even still my friend," I said to him. "So, I don't need you to keep pushing yourself into my life like this to the point where it hurts me. Just leave me alone. Please?"

I didn't know if I was too harsh on him, but I knew that for the moment, it needed to be said—my feet throbbed, my back ached, I could barely keep my eyes open and my phone was flooding with emails and messages about him. All I wanted was to take a trip somewhere; accepting Alejandro's invitation was kind of like a light in a dark tunnel I was in. I needed to get away, but Sebastian wanted me to stay there with him for his own selfish, personal reasons, regardless of how I felt about it. It was selfish. Point blank.

It was safe to say that no one knew how to respond to the way I spoke to Sebastian. Perhaps it was because of what I said or what he did, but I'm confident that it was my fault; Sebastian Harrison can't do much wrong in everyone else's eyes. Anyway, I ended up missing the flight with the Quintanilla's since I had a work issue that was about, you guessed it, Sebastian. I had to stay behind and regulate or else it would blow back hard in the media, and I couldn't let that happened. After I negotiated with some journalist to not publish an article about Sebastian's drug usage in high school (it's definitely the last thing him, I and the rest of the team need) I called Alejandro and apologized for inconveniencing him, explaining that I had to stay behind for work. He asked me what else was troubling me (God, he's good), and I was honest with him and told him what Sebastian said about me and what him and Claude conspired. I'm not a tattle tale, but that moment, I needed to tell someone to see if I was the bad guy for lashing out on him. Not only did Alejandro agree with me, but he was furious. I could tell he was containing his anger well over the phone, but it was seeping through the more we talked about it.

"My family and I have another jet," he said. "Tomorrow morning, leave your work things and I'll have someone get you. I'll call the airport in Barcelona right now and tell them that we'll have another plane landing tomorrow morning—"

"No," I shook my head. "I don't want you to do all that for me."

"I wasn't asking, Leslie" he told me. And that's when I started crying like the emotional wreck I am. I cried over the phone about how mad I was at everyone and how I didn't understand why all of my hard work was for shit in return. While

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