Chapter 14
Xander
“How long are you planning to stall?” Roxy doesn’t knock and saunters into my office like it’s her space, not mine.
In the corner, she pulls a bottle of Macallan from behind a book—of course she knows where I keep it—pours herself a glass, takes a sip, and sighs with delight.
“Feel free to answer anytime.” She sits across from me in the chair on the other side of my desk.
She is wearing jeans with an intricately made lace top that belongs on an evening gown. Her haphazardly curled bun sports a pen, a pencil, and what looks like a laser pointer.
“Last time I checked, this was still my office,” I retort, and swirl in my chair away from the monitor to face her.
“Not for long if you keep avoiding Daddy dearest.” She takes another sip while she checks her manicure, as if she is bored with the conversation she started.
“Don’t you have an intern to fire, or a supplier to harass?”
She sighs. “Xander, you’re an asshole most of the time, but we both know it’s just a pose. Deep down, you’re a decent human being. You’re also smart—”
“Don’t try to sweet-talk me, Roxy. You’re better than that.”
If there is something I want to do less than discussing my father with Roxy, it’s actually talking to my father.
After another sigh of exasperation, she continues. “You’re also smart, even though you’re set on acting like a dumbass. What did your father do to you?”
“I didn’t know you were promoted to office therapist.” I pick up my smoothie.
“Xander, was he abusing you?”
I spatter the green liquid. “No! Jesus, why would your mind go there?”
“It’s not that outlandish, but I’m relieved to hear it’s not the case. Which begs the question, why are you avoiding him? Whatever he did, grow up, forgive, and move on.”
I lean back in my chair. “It looks like you might be the one with daddy issues.”
She flinches. “We’re talking about you.”
Whatever is behind her reaction, unlike her, I don’t believe I’m a therapist, so I let it go. “I’m just curious why you assume he did something.”
Her eyes flicker with something that looks disturbingly excited. “It was you who fucked up? Were you exiled?” The unabashed thrill in her voice draws a laugh from me.
“It’s not a soap opera, Ro.”
The hated nickname wipes the glee from her face. “Whatever you did, Xander, your father has been trying to reach you, so I’m sure you’re forgiven.”
By him, maybe. “I’m not ready to talk to him, so drop it.”
“Is it so bad that you’re going to let down Merged?”
She might have just verbalized the burden that has been weighing on my shoulders. “I’m looking for another solution. He’s not the only one with connections in San Francisco.”
“Another solution?” She looks at me, unimpressed, swirling her drink.
I nod.
“How is that going for you?” She doesn’t hesitate to call me on my bullshit.
I’ve been going through my contacts, but most of them have a connection to my father. That’s what happens when I built my name in his shadow. Honestly, I haven’t had a chance to really try because I’ve been distracted.
Whatever happened four days ago with Cora… I might not understand it, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. Nonstop.
When I try and fail to sleep. When I work out. When I’m in meetings. When I’m attempting to work.
The way she grabbed my lapels and pulled me to her. Fuck, that was the hottest thing ever. I have kissed many women, but never has a kiss evoked as much thrill as hers. Right there and then, I knew a taste wouldn’t ever be enough.
“Look, Roxy, I appreciate your concern, but I’m still your boss, not the other way around. I’ll get it done. I always get things done.”
“Can I have another one?” She raises her empty glass.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s not even five.” I shake my head.
“I had a shitty day, okay? I’m hiding here because Lewis from HR wants to discuss something, and he bores me to death.”
I snort. “Go at it. I’ll have one too.”
She shimmies her hips in a little dance. “Finally, the fun Xander is back.”
“I’ve been here all the time.”
She unscrews the bottle. “Yeah, but since you started chasing Cora Winslow, you’re… I don’t know… different.”
“I’m not chasing her,” I reply out of habit, defending my playboy status. I’m totally chasing her, and the worst part—or maybe the best—is I don’t mind at all.
Roxy snorts. “Really? Taking her to events, going to her house, crashing her date…” She brings over two glasses. “How did that go, by the way?”
“Ed fucking Reynolds is an idiot.”
“Agreed.” She clinks her glass with mine. “So why have you been moping?”
“I’m not moping.”
“You’re awfully defensive today about everything. That’s not your jam. Tell me what happened. Was she upset you interrupted her potential lifetime of happiness?”
“Take your drink somewhere else.”
She laughs. “So, remember how you owe me?”
I take a gulp. “What do you want?”
“I want to know what happened.” She leans forward, as if attentive listening is the only thing on her agenda.
“Out of all the things I can make happen for you, you want me to recount that insane moment?”
“Look at that! You’re self-aware enough to recognize you act insane.” She cheers with a smile.
“You really need to live a little.” I take a sip. Perhaps a female perspective won’t hurt. “There is not much to share. She hated the date, she pretended to hate I interrupted it, but after Ed left, we kind of hit it off.”
“What did you do?”
“What the fuck, Roxy? Why would you assume I fucked something up?”
“You’re a self-absorbed man. It’s an easy conclusion to draw.”
“Why am I even talking to you?”
“Okay, okay, what happened?”
“I don’t know. We left the restaurant, and then she suddenly changed her behavior and bolted for a taxi.”
“No explanation?”
I shake my head. “I considered calling her, but I’ve done enough stalking. She just… I don’t know, she saw my bike and—”
“Oh,” Roxy utters knowingly.
“What does that mean?”
“This is not my story to tell…” She takes a sip.
“Well, now you have to tell it.”
“She needs to explain that herself.”
“Is this some sort of female thing I’m not aware of? I really don’t fucking understand what happened. If she is scared of riding a bike, she could have just said so.”
Roxy hums pensively.
“What?”
She shakes her head, refusing to explain.
Well, if this is the game she wants to play, I pick up my phone. “I’m calling Lewis from HR that you’re here.”
She jumps to snatch the receiver. “Don’t you dare.”
I move my arm out of her reach. “Explain.”
She slouches into her chair, sighing. “After you asked for her home address, I put together basic facts about her.”
“You profiled her?” I might act with shock, but in reality I’m barely stopping myself from asking for that file.
“Like I do for our business partners.” She scrunches her nose. “I like that part of my job,” she adds a little too quickly.
And she is great at it. “I want to see the file.”
“You know that is all sorts of—”
“Don’t finish that sentence. Bring the file, Roxy, or I will not only call Lewis, I’ll make sure he has a weekly one-on-one with you.
“You can’t do that.”
“Watch me.” Something in my determination—and I’ve been riding the unhinged train with dedication lately—makes her pull out her phone.
A few swipes, and a lethal glare later, a notification pops up on my screen. I click on the attachment, and my jaw tenses. “The password,” I growl.
Roxy stands up, finishes her drink, and with a smile, walks to the door. Before she opens it, she looks over her shoulder. “First, I’m going to send you your dinner reservations for tonight. If you show up, I will give you the password.”
“You want me to take you out?”
She laughs. “I have better things to do. This dinner is a kind request from Mr. Stone Sr.” She hitches her shoulders innocently. “And Xander?”
I meet her eyes, trying to hide the turmoil her blackmail caused.
“If you care about Cora… if you’re even a tad serious about her, I wouldn’t look at that file.”
Fuck. My. Life.
Don’t be a pussy.
I’m ten minutes late for dinner with my father. Not because I got delayed. Mostly because when it comes to my father, I turn into the little boy whose balls haven’t dropped yet.
I’ve been sitting on the balcony level of the swanky steakhouse for half an hour. Senior came, immediately owned the room, and is now sitting and waiting, motionless, his gaze locked on the entrance.
If he was on the phone, or reading or flirting with the waitress, I might have descended already. As it is, he feels like a statue, not a human.
Fuck it. This is how losing feels, and I’m not good at that. In my current situation, either I show up or not, but it still feels like a defeat.
Grow some balls, asshole.
I stand up, fasten the button on my jacket, and adjust my cuffs. I walk to the curved staircase, wishing it was at my father’s back behind his table. It’s not.
Two more steps and he will spot me. Two more steps and I will have to face him. Two more steps and I will have to confront my demons.
Fucking Roxy.
But as my foot touches that second step and our eyes meet, I’m kind of glad she coerced me into this meeting. It’s not like I can avoid him forever.
I might have come here because a part of me I don’t recognize, much less know how to tame, wants that file. It wants to uncover Cora’s secrets. No, it needs access to her world, her needs, her troubles, her joys.
But if I’m honest, I don’t know if I want to find out through Roxy’s skillful sleuthing. I want Cora to share her world with me. But the stubborn woman is fucking exasperating. Why doesn’t she let me in?
If not for Cora’s file, I might have come here only for my father’s help with the Vireon business, but the reality is different.
I should have come here to reconnect with my father. And now, as I approach him, I’m glad I’m here. Still dreading the conversation, but what is the worst-case scenario? We’ll return to the status quo, which would suck, but I have my life here now, anyway.
“I had a call, and it took longer…” Good job, starting with a lie.