Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Eighteen

"The reporter either doesn't know your age or is just bad at math," Akin concluded. "You were going into High School when their engagement started. That would make Sebastian a pedophile for sleeping with a fourteen-year-old."

"She doesn't know my age. They don't know one thing about me," I stated, scratching my hairline and trying to understand how this had suddenly become my life. When I took the job at Lockhart Inc. I didn't know that I'd be a part of Celebrity Gossip that polluted their life. "Someone needs to tell them that I work for him."

"Then how do you explain that whole story about you being touchy feely with him at a restaurant?" Layla questioned. "Did they make that up or is there something you're not telling us?"

There were two different ways I could go on with this conversation.

1.        I could deny any connection to the girl the reporter was mentioning. Sebastian was known for being with countless different women. I could easily dismiss this as a mix-up and say that I wasn't the girl she was talking about.

2.       I could tell the truth -or at least the partial truth.

The truth would only create more questions though, my thoughts reminded, and it wasn't as enticing or exhilarating to tell the truth.

A lie was forming itself on the tip of my tongue, denying the truth in that story. But the reporter at Insider in Hollywood beat me to it, showing photos and videos to support her case. It was taken on a cell phone so the quality wasn't all that great, but it was clear enough to show who was in the video.

"As you can see here," the reported began to say, playing a clip of Sebastian and I getting a little too comfortable with each other. No one would've confused us as employer and employee. "There were eyewitnesses to the lover's night out of fun. It was even reported that near the end of their dinner, Sebastian placed this nameless vixen on to his lap."

"Vixen? Who even uses that word with a straight face?" I puffed, glaring at the TV screen. Deep down inside, I knew that she wasn't lying. But there was no amount of money that I would accept to tell truth about that night. Instead of fessing up, I turned to my friends. "That's not true. She's making that up."

To show proof of what she was talking about, a photo flashed of what she was referring to. It was an even clearer photo of Sebastian and I with this hand visibly on my knee. The reporter continued to narrate the night, giving some gruesome details. Hastily, I stole the remote from Akin's hands and pressed the power button.

Despite the fact that the TV was pitch black with no activity, Akin remained staring at the lifeless screen, blinking rapidly. "You...you and Sebastian-"

I cut him off. "There is no Sebastian and I. We shouldn't even co-exists in the same sentence."

Akin cleared his throat. "I bet there was a certain part of him that existed inside of you later on that night."

"Akin!" I shrieked. "I didn't have sex with him."

"Well you guys surely didn't have an innocent trip to New York like you stated earlier. That video goes against everything you told us," Layla pointed out and slapped my arm.

"What was that for?" I cried out, massaging the area she had hit.

"You lied to us. You didn't tell us about your whole ménage à trois with Sebastian."

I cringed. "I don't think you know what a ménage à trois is. Because if you did, then you'd know we'd need a third person for that to work out."

It took Layla a moment to catch on, but when she did, her cheeks brightened.