Mr Garcia (Mr Series)

I stare at her. “Pardon?” I mean, I heard it… but surely not. “His name is Sebastian Garcia?”

“Yes. You know him?”

“No,” I say too quickly.

“Of course, you do. The politician. He’s the new Deputy Prime Minister. Everyone knows him.”

Relief fills me as I realize how this looks, I should know him. “Oh, yes, I see. I knew the name sounded familiar.”

My thoughts flash back to our fight in the cloak room the other night, and I have to force it from my mind.

“So, what do you think?” Helena asks.

“About?”

“The dog,” she snaps, exasperated.

I sit back, and I hate to admit it, but I really don’t like this woman. “Helena… let me ask you something: why do you want Bentley?”

“I’m entitled to more of his estate.”

“But you already got everything.”

“He has much more now.”

“But you’re not married to him now.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

I begin to lose my patience with her. “Helena, there isn’t a judge on Earth that would grant you more of an estate that you have already settled on.”

“Yes, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?” She stands in a huff and throws her handbag around her shoulder. “Goodbye, Miss Bennet. I wish I could say that you’ve been helpful.” She stomps toward the door. “But that would be a complete lie, wouldn’t it? I don’t appreciate you wasting my time.”

She disappears through the door, and it slams hard on her release.

God.

What a fucking bitch. 

I pull up the records she submitted when she booked her appointment. I can’t believe he married a witch like her. What the hell was Sebastian thinking?

Actually, who am I to talk?

I married an asshole, too.

I go back through the notes and search for the date of the last settlement.

February. Seven years ago.

I work out the dates, that was just over twelve months before he met me. I scan the file until I get their marriage and separation details. They were married for five years until he discovered that she was having an affair with the gardener. I exhale heavily, knowing too well how that feels.

I wonder if he walked in on them doing the deed like I did.

Poor bastard. He would have been badly burnt, and then he thought that I…

Stop it! Do not dare make excuses for that man.

His wife is a bitch, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. He’s an asshole, and if truth be told, they probably deserve each other. Who knows how many affairs he had on her with his visits to sex clubs for Christ’s sake?

Ugg, why am I even thinking about his side of the story? Who cares anyway?

I read over the notes and go through Helena’s history. She doesn’t work. Of course, she doesn’t. She’s too busy living off of her ex-husband.

With a heavy exhale, I throw the file into the cabinet. I know she’s going to go to another lawyer. I also know that another lawyer won’t be able to touch her, but nothing surprises me these days. As long as I’m not the lawyer, I don’t care.

The tree casts a shadow on the wall. It’s 1:00 a.m., but I haven’t slept.

I can’t.

I keep going over the argument I had with Sebastian and the way I hit him. I can still hear the crack as my hand connected with his face.

Why did I slap him?

That’s not who I am—not even close. I’m not violent, and I’ve never hit a man before.

Imagine if he slapped me and how outraged I would be.

God, it’s just another low point that I wish never happened. Sebastian Garcia seems to bring out the best of them… low points, that is.

I stare into the darkness some more as my mind wanders. Deputy Prime Minister.

How the hell did he get that position? Was he a politician when I knew him before? I think back to any sign I may have missed, but I can’t think of anything. There were no signs, but I didn’t really know anything much about him then. We were too busy fucking like rabbits.

I thought he was just an architect.

Maybe that was all bullshit. Architects don’t become Deputy Prime Ministers. I walk out into the living room, turn the light on, and I open my laptop. I want answers. I want to know when and how.

I type his name into Google and scroll through to Wikipedia.

Sebastian Garcia

Named the people’s politician, Sebastian Garcia is a 42-year-old English architect. Garcia began his political career when consulting for the (then) town planner Thomas Harvey. Since he had been active in the role for several years, on Thomas’s retirement, Garcia was voted as the Minister of Town Planning. With a reputation for being ruthless and a clear vision of protecting the common people, Sebastian Garcia does not shy away from being controversial. 

He made his first political impression when he publicly called out the Prime Minister in a press release over a reneged promise on the development of the M4 motorway. Garcia demanded that the Prime Minister keep his promise and reroute the motorway to a safer position for the surrounding suburbs that were to be demolished. 

With his fuss-free, no-frills approach, he deservedly earned the respect amongst his peers and over the following three years, was voted up throughout the ranks.  

In the worst kept secret of parliament, it has been revealed that Garcia is making most of the planning and budget decisions. Prime Minister, Theodore Holsworthy, and Garcia clash heads often, having had many public exchanges. 

Speculation circulates how long Holsworthy can hold his party votes with Sebastian Garcia tipped to be the next Prime Minister of the United Kingdom. 

I sit back in my chair in surprise. Wow.

Well… kudos to him, I suppose.

I stand, fill the kettle, and I turn the television on. I flick through the channels knowing it’s going to be another long night. I’m not sleeping well. I haven’t been since seeing Sebastian last week. I keep going over and over everything we said to each other… including the way he looked. The feelings.

So many unfinished feelings.

Most of all, I think about the anger he brought out in me.

But, regardless of any of those things, I should never have slapped him.

It was a shitty thing to do. Guilt doesn’t feel very nice.

There’s a knock at my door, and I look up from my computer.

“Come in.”

“Hello, April?” A distinguished looking man steps forward with a broad smile on his face. “I’m Bart McIntyre.”

Oh shit. I stand and shake his hand. “Hello, Bart. Nice to meet you,” I smile.

He’s tall and blonde with a scattering of grey hair. He must be in his late forties, I think. Quite handsome. He’s wearing an expensive suit, and he looks every bit of the celebrity lawyer he is.

“Have you got two minutes for a quick chat?” he asks.

“Yes, sure. Please, take a seat.” I gesture to my chair.

“Thank you. I’m still finding my way around the offices. I wanted to meet you first, seeing that we will be working so closely together.”

“I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity, Mr. McIntyre.”

“I’ve been looking over your file. You have a very impressive resume, Miss Bennet.”

“Thank you. Can you tell me a little bit about the position?” I ask. “What would you like me to do, and what are your expectations?”

Bart sits back in his chair. “Well, for a start, you will be accompanying me to all of my appointments. Most of my clients are off-site. They don’t like to be seen going into a lawyer’s office, hence why I visit them. We’ll start those appointments next Monday. I’m in the office this week. I have a lot to sort out and get accustomed to. But I just wanted to pop in and meet you.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to get started.”

He gives me a warm smile. “Please let me know if there are any problems or issues while we are working together. I like to be professional, and I like my co-workers to be happy.”

“Sounds great.” Excitement fills me.

He moves towards the door before he turns back to me. “Oh and, April, starting the week after next, we will be going away for three days a week over the next month.”

“Okay.” I frown. “Where would we be going, Mr. McIntyre?”

“Just out to the countryside, not too far from here. It’s always within a two-hour radius of London. My client has to travel, and we have to accompany him.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll get reception to work on our travel packs. You will need some extra equipment to keep in the car for our visits.”

“Perfect.”

He gives me a kind nod before leaving, and I smile to myself. Wow, going away a few nights every single week for a month is going to be amazing, I can already tell.

Sebastian

I fill the coffee cups with boiling water, stir in the milk.  

“Marina wants me to set you up with her.” 

I glance up at my sister. “You have got to be kidding, I have no interest in Marina, whatsoever.” 

“Sebastian,” Violet exhales. “You have no interest in anybody anymore.” 

“Yes, so? I like it that way.” I pass her the coffee cup. 

“Thanks.” She watches me intently. 

I roll my eyes. “What?” 

“When are you going to let yourself be happy?” she asks.

“I am happy. What are you talking about?” 

“I mean really happy, you know… a family of your own, wife and kids.” 

“That’s not in my future.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’ve been there and done the whole marriage thing. It’s not somewhere I want to return to.” 

“Seb,” she sighs. “Helena was just a bad egg. It wouldn’t have mattered who she married, she would have done the same to them. And that other woman… the—”

“April,” I cut her off before she says it.

Her eyes hold mine for a moment. “I’m just saying… you can’t spend the rest of your life living in the past.” 

“I’m not. I just don’t have the same expectations that I used to.” 

“Are you really going to live in this huge house alone?” 

“I’m perfectly happy as I am.” I glance over at the golden Labrador sprawled out in front of the fire. “And I don’t live alone. I live with Bentley.” I smirk against my coffee cup. 

“Why aren’t you dating?” I ask, deflecting. 

“I have a date on Saturday night, actually.” 

“You do?” 

“Uh-huh,” she smiles. 

“Who with?” 

“You don’t know him.” Her response comes too quickly. 

I stare at her for a moment. “You know, Vi, I’ve come to understand the patterns of when someone is lying to me.” 

She rolls her eyes.

“Are you lying to me?” 

She smirks. 

“So… I do know him.” 

“I just don’t want to jinx it,” she smiles. 

I frown. “Do I like him?” 

“Have you ever liked a boyfriend of mine?”

I smirk, knowing she’s got me. “No.” 

“So, can I set you up with Marina?”

“Definitely not.” 

We fall silent for a while. I love my sister. She’s single like I am, and with Brandon living on the other side of the country with his new wife, she gets lonely sometimes. We eat dinner together a few nights throughout the week. She’s become my rock. 

“I saw her,” I find myself admitting. 

“Who?” 

“April.” 

She frowns as she listens. “Where?” 

“Last week, the Art Museum at a charity auction.” 

“Did you talk to her?” 

“You could say that.” I sip my coffee. “We fought in a cloakroom.” 

“Of course, you did.” She smirks. “How is she?” 

“Still beautiful.” 

Violet blows into her coffee. “And totally wrong for you, Sebastian. Get that out of your head, right now.” 

“It doesn’t matter, anyway.” I shrug casually. “She was with someone else. Maybe a boyfriend. She didn’t have a wedding ring on, though.” 

“You looked at her hand?” she asks dryly.

I twist my lips, unwilling to admit to it out loud again, but hating that I did.

“Was he there with her?” she asks. “Her boyfriend or whatever he is?”

“Yes, he’s a football player. Pretty good one, from what I hear. He’s a Man United player.” I think for a moment, “Maybe Arsenal, I don’t know which club.”

“Good. I hope she marries him tomorrow and stays the hell away from you.”  

I smile at my overprotective sister, and I let myself sink back into thought— something I’ve been doing a lot of lately.  

The wrath of reflection. I drift back to all those years ago, and how it felt to be in her arms. For a while, it was perfect. 

My stomach twists when I remember how badly it ended. 

I have many regrets in my life. That week, that night, and the months that followed. They’re all up there with the biggest.

April

We ride to the top floor in the elevator with my nerves at an all-time high. I glance at my reflection in the mirrored doors. I’m wearing black high heels, a black pencil skirt, and a matching jacket with a cream silk blouse and sheer black stockings. My blond bob is hanging in loose curls, and my makeup is minimal.

It’s my first day on the road with Bart McIntyre, and I have to admit that this shit is scary. We have Jeremy with us who is Mr. McIntyre’s personal assistant who travels everywhere with him.

I glance over at Jeremy standing beside the door. He would have to be in his early thirties. He’s a very good-looking man in a perfectly fitting suit. He has chocolate brown hair and big green eyes. He’s apparently been Bart’s PA for six years. He’s very friendly, too. I haven’t quite worked out the dynamics between the two of them yet. I think they might be together as they seem very familiar. But maybe that’s just what you get for working together for so long, and my mind is just depraved. I mean, just because he’s his PA, that doesn’t mean that they’re fucking.

Or maybe my gut feeling is right and it means they totally are. I guess time will tell whether I’m right or wrong.

There’s so much to learn, a little thrill runs through me at the prospect of all the new and exciting things.

The doors open, and Jeremy steps out and walks up to the desk. He immediately takes his laptop out of its bag. There’s a metal scanner at the entrance leading into the offices, as well as two security guards.

Huh? Is that a metal detector?

I glance over at Bart in question, wondering who, exactly, we are seeing.

“You’ll have to take your laptop out and pass through security,” Bart tells me as he begins to unload his laptop bag. He takes his phone and keys out of his pocket and places them on a tray.

“Shoes off,” the security guard commands as he runs a metal detector over my body.

I slip out of my shoes and put them on the tray. Bart was supposed to send our schedule to my email last week. It never arrived, and I didn’t want to sound pushy by requesting it. Once we pass through, I slip my shoes back on and gather up my things. Eventually, we walk through the doors and into another large reception area. It’s all black marble floors and fancy as fancy can be.

“Good morning, Bart,” the receptionist smiles. “Morning, Jeremy.” Her eyes come to me in question.

“Rebecca, this is April,” Bart introduces. “She’s my new associate and will be traveling with me from now on.”

“Hello.” Rebecca fakes a smile and looks me up and down. I can almost hear her judgement.

“Hello,” I smile in return.

Why are women such bitches to other women? She’s probably got the hots for Bart or something… or Jeremy. She’s around his age.

“Just go up to his office. He’s expecting you.”

“Thanks.” Bart gestures to me. “This way.” I follow him up a large corridor.

Jeremy veers off and walks into an office on the left. “See you soon,” he says as he takes a seat at a desk.

Bart and I walk over to two large black double doors, and Bart knocks once.

“Come in!” a voice calls.

Bart opens the door. “Hello, my friend.” He walks in.

I look to the person sitting behind the large mahogany desk, and my heart stops.

It’s Sebastian Garcia.

Oh, fuck.

He sees me and rolls his lips. “Bart,” he says dryly, his eyes holding mine.

“Sebastian.” Bart smiles as he gestures to me. “Meet April Bennet, my new associate. She will be working closely with me from here on in. April, this is Sebastian Garcia: the man currently helping to run our country.”

Sebastian’s eyes stay fixed on mine, and he holds out his hand to shake mine. “Hello, April. Nice to meet you.” His voice holds no emotion.

Fuck, fuck, double fuck

This isn’t happening.

“Hello.” I grimace.

“Please, take a seat.” He gestures to the chairs at his desk.

Oh hell…. this is bad. Really bad.

I take a seat to stop myself from falling. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. My heart is beating fast. I wipe my brow, feeling faint.

Sebastian sits back in his chair, his eyes still locked on mine. He raises his chin in defiance.

He’s wearing a perfectly fitted navy suit. His dark hair has a wave to it, and his deep olive skin is in stark contrast to his crisp white shirt.

Arrogance personified.

“So, I’ve been researching our options.” Bart slips straight into business mode.

Sebastian’s eyes rise to him for the first time since we walked in.

But my gaze stays fixed on Sebastian’s face.

He’s older than when we met, a little weathered, but still so beautiful.

Sebastian Garcia is still the most handsome man I have had the misfortune of meeting.

I feel my heart constrict in my chest as I listen to his deep voice as he speaks to Bart.

I get a vision of him looking up at me with his head between my legs, his lips glistening with my arousal, and I bite my bottom lip to get rid of the memory.

Stop it! He’s a complete asshole.

The bastard of all bastards.

I remember the way he used to kiss me, the way he would grab my face in his hands and his eyes would close, making me feel it all the way to my toes.

Fuck, cut it out.

I hate that he still affects me.

Bart and Sebastian keep talking business—something about an overpass on a motorway, and legislation about something else, but I can’t focus on a word they are saying, which I really need to because this is fucking important.

For half an hour, I sit, frozen on the spot. Sebastian hasn’t looked at me once.

Bart fishes into his pocket and digs out his phone that’s ringing. “Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll be back in a moment. You two acquaint yourselves.” He stands and rushes from the room, closing the door behind him.

We are left alone.

Sebastian’s eyes meet mine, and we stare at each other, there are no words to say to this man.

He stays silent.

I need to say it. I need to get it off my chest. I take out my phone and scroll through my numbers. When I get to his name, I hope this is still his number. I type.

Is this room under surveillance?

A phone beep’s from inside his desk’s top drawer. He opens it and reads the message and holds up his phone. “Is this you?” he asks.

I nod.

He sits back in his chair and crosses his leg at the ankle. “No, the room is not monitored.”

I twist my fingers on my lap as I brace myself. “Sebastian, I’m sorry… for slapping you the other night in the cloakroom. I don’t know what came over me. That isn’t who I am, I regretted it the moment I did it.”

He glares at me, and animosity swims between us.

God, this is a nightmare.

“Can we just keep this professional between us?” I ask.

He gives me a sarcastic smirk. “Like you are now?”

“If we have to work together, can we at least be civil?” I whisper angrily as I begin to lose my patience.

He leans forward and places his palms on the desk. “Let me tell you something, April Bennet. You are in my office, and you will work under my rules from here on in. If you dare ever fucking hit me again, expect a return.”

I narrow my eyes as I imagine knocking the fucker clean out. “Mr. Garcia, I will not hit you again. Hell, I don’t even want to look at you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, April? Because you haven’t taken your eyes off me since you walked in.”

Fucking asshole.

I give him a sweet smile. “That was me wondering what I ever saw in you, and for the life of me, I just can’t work it out.”

His jaw ticks, and I know that stung. Well, too bad.

Our eyes are locked when the door opens behind me.

“Sorry about that,” Bart says as he interrupts our stand-off. “Where were we?”

Sebastian stands in a rush. “We have to leave it here for today, Bart. I’ve been called to an urgent cabinet meeting.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Bart replies. “I’ll work on that and get back to you.”

“Thank you.” He nods to Bart, and then at me. “Nice to meet you, April.”

I smile sweetly. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Garcia.”

He looks murderous, like he’s about to explode.

Bring it, asshole. You don’t scare me.

Seriously, nobody pisses me off more than this man.

“Goodbye.” Sebastian rushes from the room.

Bart frowns as he watches him leave. “Hmm, I wonder what’s up with him today.”

“No idea.” I pack our things from the desk.

I’m not taking his shit anymore.

Those days are done.

I’m lying in bed, watching The Late Show at 11:00 p.m.

About to slip into a carbohydrate coma, I’ve eaten an entire block of chocolate tonight.

I keep going over my meeting today with Sebastian. What a nightmare situation.

I’m going to lose my job over this, I can feel it.

My phone rings on my nightstand. Who would be calling me this late?

I pick it up and see that name lighting up the screen:

Sebastian