and knowing it, Neely backed out of his office. But she was still concerned. And a bit peeved at his dismissal. Did he think she was only able to appreciate her own work?
Later that day she said as much to Max.
He was still in the hospital, his leg immobilized with seven pins and a plate, which he grumbled about continually. There was no way he could come to work and take some of the pressure off Sebastian. Neely knew that, but she thought he might tell Sebastian to ease up a little.
But Max just shrugged against his pillows. “He’s conscientious. Doing what needs to be done.”
“He’s just like you,” Neely countered.
“Somebody has to be,” Max rejoined with a grin.
But Neely didn’t smile in return. “Do you really think so?” she challenged him. “Is it really the way you’d advise him to live? After what it did to your life?”
And mine, she didn’t add aloud.
Max’s grin faded and he plucked at the sheet with his fingers. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a long moment. “I thought so when I was his age.”
“And now?”
He shrugged and raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t tell him that,” he said.
“Why not?”
“It’s a guy thing,” he said simply.
“Oh, and that means he should just work himself into the ground?”
“Not necessarily. It means he has to get his own priorities sorted out. I can’t do it for him. He has to figure it out on his own.”
“Like you did,” Neely said, for the first time being just a bit sarcastic with her father.
Max’s mouth tipped in a wry smile. “Exactly.”
And Neely supposed he was right. But Sebastian didn’t seem to be doing so. He kept up the dawn-till-well-past-dark schedule as the week wore on. He did turn some projects over to second in commands. But from Neely he refused all offers of help.
Wednesday, though, he was in the middle of working on the atrium proposal when Vangie had a meltdown right in his office.
Neely had been surprised to see Sebastian’s sister appear in the office, but she’d been on the phone at the time and had only glimpsed Vangie through the glass window between her private space and the main room. So there had been no chance to go out and greet her, and when she’d got off the phone and looked up again, Vangie was gone.
Of course she was sure where Vangie was, but somehow turning up in Sebastian’s office to say hi seemed not the smartest idea, given his current state of mind.
It didn’t matter anyway, because ten minutes later her phone rang. “You said you wanted to help,” Sebastian said without preamble.
“Yes,” Neely began cautiously.
“Fine. Come and get her.”
He hung up before she could say a word, and for a moment Neely considered simply ignoring the summons. But she had offered to help, and she hadn’t put a limit on the offer. If Vangie was what he needed help with, so be it.
She hadn’t expected tears. At least they were Vangie’s tears, not Sebastian’s, she thought wryly when she stepped into his office. Though truth be told he looked harried and harassed enough to shed a few himself.
“What’s wrong?” Neely hurried to Vangie’s side, shooting Sebastian a questioning look as she did so, silently querying what he’d said to her now.
“The boxes aren’t silver,” he said flatly, as if that explained everything. “They’re grey.”
“What?”
Vangie looked up, stricken, and said, “The mint boxes for the tables…a-at the reception,” she gulped, “they’re supposed to be rose a-and s-silver. And the rose are r-rose. But the silver are grey!” And she started sobbing again.
“End of the world,” Sebastian said to Neely, “as you can see.”
Neely patted Vangie’s shoulder and glared at Sebastian. Professionally he’d rejected her every offer to help, but when it came to silver boxes…
But much as she felt like leaving him to deal with his sister, she couldn’t. Help was help, and she’d offered.
“Come on.” She urged Vangie to her feet. “Let’s go see what we can do about it.”
“We can’t do anything about it!” Vangie wailed. “The reception will be ruined!”
“We’ll see,” Neely murmured. “We’ll see.” And she chivvied Vangie out of the office with barely a backward glance at Sebastian. He had already refocused on the atrium design.
It took a trip to the hobby shop for some silver paint and half a dozen small paint brushes to get Vangie’s tears dried up. She still looked doubtful. “Are you sure it will work?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Neely said because faintheartedness never won the day. “We can take care of this right now if your sisters will help.”
Vangie sniffled and nodded. “They will,” she said. “And my mom and my stepmothers, too.”
So she got to meet the triplets and Jenna and ten-year-old Sarah, three of Sebastian’s stepmothers and get a look at his penthouse digs, as well. It was enlightening.
The penthouse had probably been austere and minimalist before being overrun by the Savas women. One look around its cluttered surfaces and clothes-strewn rooms gave Neely greater understanding about exactly why Sebastian had been so desperate to move into the houseboat. Further reflection simply reinforced the notion that he was incredibly kind to all of them.
Not many men, she didn’t imagine, would have allowed their siblings and stepmothers to simply move in and take over their home. But Sebastian had. And as she showed them how to add silver highlights to the boxes—which were in fact not quite as grey as Vangie had claimed—she heard plenty of stories about how many other things he’d done for them.
He was paying Jenna’s college tuition. He’d footed the bill for a year’s study in Paris for one of the triplets. He was helping Cassidy, a stepmother who couldn’t have been much older than he was, go back to nursing school and get her degree.
“Does your father help, too?” she asked one of the triplets.
The girl looked blank. “Who? Oh, Dad? We hardly ever see him.”
“We will at the wedding,” Vangie said confidently. “Sebastian’s organizing it.”
Neely glanced at her, surprised and wondering if Sebastian had changed his mind or if Vangie was just making assumptions. It didn’t seem wise to ask.
“There, now,” she said. “I think that takes care of all of them.” She stood up and surveyed
