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“Well, hello to you too.”
Sebastian muttered unintelligibly on the other end of the line. “I’m still in London.”
I glanced at my watch. “Oh, shit. I assumed you came home yesterday after we left your house.”
“That was the plan. Then Harrison changed it.”
I tsked. “Sounds like his motto. You just let Beck go back to the city?”
It was his turn to sound affronted. “I made him send backup.”
That made me laugh. “Of course you did.”
“Luna, I stepped out of a very important contract signing with Harrison because I thought this was an emergency. You have sixty seconds to convince me it wasn’t a mistake to answer your call.”
“No need to get testy with me. You know, just because you landed this big whale of a client doesn’t mean you get to just toss aside us little plebs.”
“Luna—”
“Okay, okay. Here’s the thing. I only need one final permit for the Chateau and there is some sort of weird hold out. I don’t know the full story yet. The part I do know is that I need your super sleuthing skills to figure out who I need to schmooze at city hall.” I crossed my fingers.
Sebastian quietly counted to ten.
I frowned and took a look at my phone, totally confused by this dramatic display of his. “There a problem over there? Do I need to send an SOS to Faith? I know morse code.” Well that wasn’t quite the truth. “I watched one class on morse code, so I could probably make it work.”
“Luna—”
“Sebastian.”
He sighed heavily. “This could have been an email.”
“But then you wouldn’t have the honor of hearing my voice,” I said sweetly.
“Send me what you have, and I will look into it as soon as I’m done in London.”
The line went dead.
“What a dick,” I said with a smile on my face. I dialed the next person who came to mind.
Faith answered on the first ring. “I was wondering when you would check in with me.”
“Well, I wondered when you were going to check on me. How does it feel?”
Faith chuckled, and I heard her set down her paintbrush. “What’s going on?”
“When were you going to tell me that Sebastian isn’t home yet?”
“Not you too. Beck was basically a glorified babysitter.”
“Not to defend Beck or anything—because you know how much I hate that—but he could probably kick someone’s ass if he wanted to.”
Faith hummed, and my antenna went up.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What was what?”
I pressed the Facetime button so that I could look at her while we spoke. I didn’t trust the tone of her voice.