I bit my lower lip, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over me. It was absurd to be in this situation with my millionaire ex-boss at two in the morning in a foreign country.
“I don’t think they’ll find it,” I muttered, looking at the floor. “I wanted pistachio baklava. But… I need it to have really tart green apples and a piece of that salty white cheese they sell at the local markets.”
I expected him to scoff. I expected to hear one of his cynical comments about how ridiculous my tastes were or how I was wasting his time with insignificant whims. I mentally prepared myself for the contempt I also knew.
However, Sebastian stared at me intently for a few seconds, processing the information with absolute seriousness, as if I had just presented him with the most important business deal o
