the right moment to switch topics. She returned to the windows that wrapped around three sides of Sebastian's office. "Wait till Maryan finds out you've bought that house in— What's the place called?"
"Medina."
"Yes, Medina. We all thought you only intended to come out here for the opening."
"You presumed. I may move my headquarters here."
Stunned summed up Zoya's expression nicely.
"New York's great," Sebastian said. "It'll be a great place to visit frequently."
"You aren't telling me you intend to live in— Medina permanently."
"More successful men than I am do." Sebastian stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. "The suburbs are good places for families."
"You don't have a family," she pointed out.
"At my age it's time to think about settling down."
Zoya laughed her deep, smoky-toned laugh. "Thirty-five? Just. True, you are approaching dotage, my love. But you are joking, aren't you? You don't really plan to be here longer than it takes to make sure we overcome the current little unpleasantness, do you?"
He ignored the question.
"This is me. Zoya. I'm on your side forever, remember? I don't know much about your pre-Raptor days, but aren't you the man who left Seattle right out of high school, the man who said he was never, coming back?"
"Things change." And some things didn't change nearly enough—or soon enough.
"How many years ago was that? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Fifteen. I sat out a year."
Zoya turned sharply. "Sat out of high school? Were you sick?"
He didn't owe her explanations, but what the hell. "Sick of trying to live up to expectations. I thought I was showing my old man I was master of my own fate. It's history."
A buzzer sounded on his intercom. Sebastian pressed a button and said, "Plato."
"Is there even the vaguest possibility that you told a Mr. Nose he could come to see you, Mr. Plato? Surely not."
"Wait." Sebastian cut off the line to his secretary's office. "Where did you find that guy, Zoya?"
"Hmm?" She raised her perfectly arched brows.
"My secretary. Mr. Tight-ass himself, William whatever his name is?"
"Namsuk," Zoya told him. "William Namsuk. He's very qualified. Secretaries aren't all thirty-six double D's with panty allergies."
Sebastian knew when to grin. He grinned at Zoya now. "Not nice, my love. And I haven't earned that kind of reputation."
She shrugged and went back to watching a jet traverse a transparently blue July sky. "William's Bellevue to the eyeballs. Born here. Grew up here. Went to grade school here. He did go to the University of Washington, so he has been out of town, at least as far as Seattle."
"As I said, Mr. Tight-ass himself. Only answers to William— don't call him Bill. Is it even vaguely possible I told a Mr. Nose he could come to see me? Surely not."
"Did you?"
Sebastian flipped the intercom switch again. "Hey, Bill. Send in Mr. Nose."
" Shame on you," Zoya said when Sebastian cut the connection again. "Still a mean little boy inside that handsome hulk, hm?"
He couldn't refute the jibe. And right now he didn't care.
The door opened to admit a rumpled little man in khaki. Lean, blond and good-looking, William Namsuk paused long enough to aim a disdainful glance at Sebastian, then closed the door behind the newcomer.
Patting his numerous pockets, Nose shambled across the room. "That guy out there's gonna hurt hisself," he said. "He's so uptight he's gonna choke t'death."
Sebastian avoided Zoya's eyes. "I wasn't expecting you, Mr.—"
"Nose. Just call me, Nose." A guffaw revealed tobacco-stained teeth. "My old lady reckons that with a moniker like mine I should 'ave been one of them wine sniffers. I tell 'er I'm very good at what I do sniff, thank you very much."
"Sit down," Sebastian said. "Don't let me keep you, Zoya. I'll get back to you on this." He tapped the press release.
"Oh, I can wait, darling." Her voice dripped with amused curiosity. "I'll just look out the window until you're finished with, er, Nose."
He had to get her
"Medina."
"Yes, Medina. We all thought you only intended to come out here for the opening."
"You presumed. I may move my headquarters here."
Stunned summed up Zoya's expression nicely.
"New York's great," Sebastian said. "It'll be a great place to visit frequently."
"You aren't telling me you intend to live in— Medina permanently."
"More successful men than I am do." Sebastian stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. "The suburbs are good places for families."
"You don't have a family," she pointed out.
"At my age it's time to think about settling down."
Zoya laughed her deep, smoky-toned laugh. "Thirty-five? Just. True, you are approaching dotage, my love. But you are joking, aren't you? You don't really plan to be here longer than it takes to make sure we overcome the current little unpleasantness, do you?"
He ignored the question.
"This is me. Zoya. I'm on your side forever, remember? I don't know much about your pre-Raptor days, but aren't you the man who left Seattle right out of high school, the man who said he was never, coming back?"
"Things change." And some things didn't change nearly enough—or soon enough.
"How many years ago was that? Sixteen? Seventeen?"
"Fifteen. I sat out a year."
Zoya turned sharply. "Sat out of high school? Were you sick?"
He didn't owe her explanations, but what the hell. "Sick of trying to live up to expectations. I thought I was showing my old man I was master of my own fate. It's history."
A buzzer sounded on his intercom. Sebastian pressed a button and said, "Plato."
"Is there even the vaguest possibility that you told a Mr. Nose he could come to see you, Mr. Plato? Surely not."
"Wait." Sebastian cut off the line to his secretary's office. "Where did you find that guy, Zoya?"
"Hmm?" She raised her perfectly arched brows.
"My secretary. Mr. Tight-ass himself, William whatever his name is?"
"Namsuk," Zoya told him. "William Namsuk. He's very qualified. Secretaries aren't all thirty-six double D's with panty allergies."
Sebastian knew when to grin. He grinned at Zoya now. "Not nice, my love. And I haven't earned that kind of reputation."
She shrugged and went back to watching a jet traverse a transparently blue July sky. "William's Bellevue to the eyeballs. Born here. Grew up here. Went to grade school here. He did go to the University of Washington, so he has been out of town, at least as far as Seattle."
"As I said, Mr. Tight-ass himself. Only answers to William— don't call him Bill. Is it even vaguely possible I told a Mr. Nose he could come to see me? Surely not."
"Did you?"
Sebastian flipped the intercom switch again. "Hey, Bill. Send in Mr. Nose."
" Shame on you," Zoya said when Sebastian cut the connection again. "Still a mean little boy inside that handsome hulk, hm?"
He couldn't refute the jibe. And right now he didn't care.
The door opened to admit a rumpled little man in khaki. Lean, blond and good-looking, William Namsuk paused long enough to aim a disdainful glance at Sebastian, then closed the door behind the newcomer.
Patting his numerous pockets, Nose shambled across the room. "That guy out there's gonna hurt hisself," he said. "He's so uptight he's gonna choke t'death."
Sebastian avoided Zoya's eyes. "I wasn't expecting you, Mr.—"
"Nose. Just call me, Nose." A guffaw revealed tobacco-stained teeth. "My old lady reckons that with a moniker like mine I should 'ave been one of them wine sniffers. I tell 'er I'm very good at what I do sniff, thank you very much."
"Sit down," Sebastian said. "Don't let me keep you, Zoya. I'll get back to you on this." He tapped the press release.
"Oh, I can wait, darling." Her voice dripped with amused curiosity. "I'll just look out the window until you're finished with, er, Nose."
He had to get her
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