Six
SIX
“Do I detect the scent of love in the air?”
“That’s the bio station. You need to change your atmosphere filters.”
Con Sulley and Lys Amarga, The Quantum Wraith
A s Sutton was slowly learning, the Pronghorn Ranch consisted of a large variety of buildings and residences. There was the main building, which housed the reception, dining room and about fifty hotel rooms—most of them occupied by crew members. Then there were about twenty standalone cabins, from studios to one- and two-bedrooms, which were reserved for heads of departments and the talent. Last, there was the two-story adobe Spanish-style casita built for the original owners of the Pronghorn but called “the big house” by everyone on the crew and occupied by Xavier.
Normally Friday crew drinks were casual ad hoc events funded by selling raffle tickets to the team members, with the winners usually opting to spend some or all of their winnings on buying a round of beer for their colleagues. Tonight, however, Contessina stayed true to her word before she left for Los Angeles and sprung for drinks—and dinner—with Xavier offering up the lawn in front of the big house as a venue big enough to hold everyone. The set decorators went to town, hanging strings of lights that crisscrossed the area and setting up long picnic benches covered with white tablecloths and decorated with rustic lanterns and potted succulents. Somewhere, someone found a long mahogany bar, complete with barstools, and set it up on one side of the lawn. A portable barbecue pit occupied the other side. The fragrant smoke caused her stomach to rumble.
Then the noise hit her, people laughing and conversing. These were not the polite, stilted murmurs she was used to at work events, but rather the exuberant shouts and laughs of a crew who had survived a tough, exacting week of work and could now blow off steam, for a few days at least. Some had gone to their accommodations to change and wash up, but many more still had red dust from the desert clinging to their jeans and shirts. The good mood was infectious.
Xavier left her side to be swallowed almost immediately by the crowd. The stream of people coming and going as they shook hands with him and exchanged backslaps was never-ending, but a small core group formed tightly around him. The tall Black man she recognized as Jay Watkins, the cinematographer. She’d met Jay before, once, during that semester when he guest-lectured on photography for the seminar students. He and Xavier had worked together on Xavier’s first film, and she wasn’t surprised to see they were still close. The others, she didn’t recognize. Yet.
Mingling with people she didn’t know well was part of Sutton’s job—and the only way to stay viable in Hollywood, she’d absorbed, was by incessantly networking—but she found this crowd daunting. They were obviously a close unit, and judging by the sideways glances that always darted away whenever Sutton tried to catch someone’s gaze, she was the subject of not a little gossip and supposition. That was to be expected, given Pauley’s abrupt departure followed by her quick arrival, but not something she had accounted for until now. Judging by the apologetic look Xavier threw her, he also realized the situation needed to be addressed. He made a gesture she interpreted as “later,” and she nodded her assent.
She was still deep in thought, wondering how and to whom to introduce herself, when a strong pair of arms tackle-hugged her from behind. “Sutton! You’re still here!”
Sutton turned to find a beaming Contessina. “Hi! Good to see you again. Did you have a good trip?”
“ So good,” Contessina said, stressing the first word. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to go.”
“I spoke to the studio PR team. They said the online attacks are dwindling, but they acknowledge they’re still a problem. They’re working hard with the various social media platforms to minimize the hate speech, but there’s only so much they can do. I’m so sorry.”
Contessina nodded, the light disappearing from her expression. “Being a target sucks. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But the intruder is in custody, and the DA’s office promises to throw every possible book at him. More importantly—” her sunshine-bright smile returned, making the overhead strings of Edison bulbs appear dim by comparison “—Juliana is doing great. And now so are we. We just needed time to be together.”
“I’m so happy to hear it.”
“As a result, I nailed all my lines today on the first take.” She took a mock bow to the left and then to the right. “Thank you, thank you, yes, I rocked the scene.” While Sutton laughed, Contessina grabbed Sutton’s hands and gave them a close examination. “But wait! You don’t appear to have a drink! We must fix that right away.” Holding Sutton’s right hand in hers, Contessina tugged her toward the bar, two open barstools appearing as people moved over with a smile for the actress. “Hey, Mykchail!”
One of the most stunning people Sutton had ever seen, at least six feet tall with dark brown skin that appeared lit from within, waved at Contessina from behind the bar. “You rang?”
“This is Sutton. Give her the Socorro Special.” Contessina hopped onto her stool and then swiveled her seat in Sutton’s direction. “You’re going to love this.”
“I don’t… I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a drink.” The hooded stares and whispers were even more evident now that she was in Contessina’s company. Xavier had the wrong idea. Being at crew drinks wasn’t going to ingratiate her to the team. Instead, her presence seemed to stir up anxiety-tinged gossip, if the suspicious gazes were anything to go by.
Contessina peered closer at Sutton. “Your nails are ragged, your eyes are bloodshot and—” she squinted “—there’s a vein pulsing in your forehead that probably shouldn’t be as prominent as it is. You’re stressed.”
“Maybe because someone dragged me to the bar without asking if I was thirsty.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I have a problem with boundaries. Apologies. But, hello, we’re in a desert, you have to stay hydrated.” Contessina swiveled to face the bar, accepting a tall glass of what looked like radioactive neon green sludge topped with a purple orchid from the bartender. “Here. This will help. I promise. Anti-inflammatory, boosts your immune system and protects your gut. No alcohol.”
“That’s all it does? No curing the common cold?” Wrinkling her nose, Sutton took a tentative pull on her straw. The perfectly-tart-just-sweet-enough taste exploded in her mouth. “You didn’t mention it tastes amazing.”
“That went without saying. But that’s okay, you’ll learn to trust me.” Contessina sipped her own cocktail, a rose-pink concoction with a twist of lime on the rim.
“What does your drink do?” Sutton asked. “Cleanse your liver? Lower your cholesterol?”
“It’s a cosmopolitan,” Contessina said. “All it does for me is lower my inhibitions.” She cocked her head to the side. “Or maybe opens a time travel portal. Juliana’s mom loved Sex in the City , so whenever we visited, we would binge episodes with her and drink cosmos. Some of the best times I’ve ever had, just hanging out as a family, no other agenda.” She glanced at Sutton. “Do you ever do that? Order drinks because they remind you of someone? I’m not that fond of the taste, but I adore the memories.”
Sutton’s gaze sought out Xavier. When the brewery stopped making the IPA craft beer she’d been drinking that night, she’d been at a loss for what beverage to bring to parties for years. Even though beer was normally not her first choice, and she was only drinking it then because there was nothing better on offer. “Sometimes.”
“Juliana thinks I’m silly for drinking something I don’t really like. But that’s why we work. She’s no nonsense. Me, I’m mostly nonsense. Together we’re a functional unit.” She peered at Sutton from over the rim of her glass. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Sutton finished her drink. She didn’t believe an elixir or tonic or whatever the concoction was called had as many health benefits as advertised, but she did feel more human. Maybe coming to crew drinks wasn’t a bad idea after all.
“Are you with anyone?”
Sutton’s gaze flicked to Xavier again. He hadn’t moved far from where she had last seen him. While being in this crowd ratcheted up her social anxiety, he appeared more relaxed than she’d seen him since she arrived. His broad shoulders were less rigid, his jawline no longer clenched. He looked more approachable, as if he were ten years younger—
She tore her gaze away.
“Ah,” Contessina said quietly. The first quiet syllable Sutton had heard her utter, although granted they had only been acquainted a short period. “Him.”
“No. Not him. There’s no him of any kind. Or her. Or they.” Sutton held up her glass. “May I have another? And maybe mix it with something stronger, like vodka?”
The bartender conjured up a new drink, purple this time. “Try this.”
Sutton took a deep swig, welcoming the burn of the alcohol. She didn’t imbibe much, usually a glass of wine or two at social events, but Xavier had a way of leaving her as disoriented as a toddler on a fast-spinning merry-go-round. Under the circumstances, one or two cocktails weren’t much of a risk. “Delicious again. Thank you.”
“Y’know,” Contessina said, leaning her elbows on the bar and steepling her fingers like a movie villain, “when someone says, ‘no, not that person’ and then reaches for alcohol, that’s an immediate giveaway. I can’t tell you how many times we used that scene in Keiko Stowe , only Keiko drank ginger ale whenever anyone brought up Brock Benson, high school water polo captain.”
“I always wondered why Brock played water polo instead of the usual football.”
“Swim trunks and no shirt,” Contessina said. “You saw Josh Jameson’s abs. Whenever we did appearances, we were mobbed not only by our twelve-year-old fans but their moms. It wasn’t pretty. But enough about my sordid teen star past. I want to know about yours.”
“That’s easy. I was never a teen star.” Sutton waggled her eyebrows at Contessina.
“Ha!” Contessina set aside her empty glass and picked up the water bottle at her elbow. “So, no partner?”
“No.” That was simple to answer. “Single.”
“Recent breakup?” Contessina guessed. “Judging by your skin. You have the ‘I used to moisturize but I now rely on my tears’ non-glow.”
Sutton laughed. “My last relationship ended six months ago. Amicably. We both decided we worked too much, but neither of us felt the relationship was worth working less and maybe missing out on a promotion.” She touched her cheeks. Her skin did feel dry. “And I guess I should switch lotions because the one I’m using obviously isn’t working.”
“This place has zero humidity. I’ll give you some of the fancy face stuff my stylist sent me.” Contessina swiveled her stool to face Sutton. “So, since you’re single…” She nodded in the direction of Xavier, still standing in the center of a tight knot of crew members. “What’s up with our fearless leader?”
“Who, the director? I have no idea what’s up with him,” Sutton answered truthfully. “None.”
“I mean between you and him. You can’t stop your eyes from feasting on him.”
Sutton realized her gaze was, indeed, fixed on Xavier and she closed her eyes, only opening them once she had turned her stool to face Contessina, removing Xavier from her sightline. “Can eyes feast? I feel that’s more of a mouth thing.”
Contessina snorted. “We’ll talk about what your mouth wants later.”
“Or we won’t. Although right now, my mouth wants another of these.” She shook her empty glass, and a new drink appeared in front of her as if by magic.
“You should switch to water.” Contessina waved her bottle. “The desert and alcohol do not mix. Double the dehydration.”
“I have water in my room.” More like a leftover case of energy drinks, but pretty much the same thing, right? “Besides, I was told I had to make an appearance. I’ll have one more to appear sociable and then sneak away. I can’t wait to get some sleep.”
“Who would dare tell the studio exec what to do—ah. We’re back to Xavier. No wonder your eyes are glued to him like a bug in a roach motel.”
“Ew. Thanks for that image.”
“I call ’em like I see ’em.” Contessina put her bottle down. “Look, I like you. Way better than Chester, who Juliana called Breaster for the way he would talk to my boobs instead of my face.”
“Ew. I’m so sorry. He was not my favorite colleague.”
“But that means you need to know the lay of the land. Or rather, who not to lay. Starting with our director over there.”
Sutton choked on her cocktail. “I’m not looking for anything like that. And definitely not with him.”
Contessina turned a pitying gaze on her. “If this were Keiko , the script would call for your eyes to have animated little hearts instead of pupils. And more animated hearts would be circling your head.”
“That sounds annoying. And like something a doctor should be consulted about.” Sutton managed to take a normal sip. “I’m not interested in Xavier.”
Contessina regarded her for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. That’s great.”
Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask… She couldn’t help herself. “Why is that great?”
“Because this is a location shoot. And hookups are a feature, not a bug.”
Sutton’s gaze searched the crowd. “Xavier is already hooked up?”
“No, he’s not,” Contessina said. “You can stop wondering who it is.”
Sutton sat up straight on her barstool. “Just idle curiosity. Since we work together, it’s good to know if he’s…um, experiencing happiness. Because his mood will affect me. And our work. Together.”
“Right. His happiness. That’s your concern.” Contessina smirked. “Xavier doesn’t do hookups. Believe me, I know plenty of people who have tried.”
“He doesn’t do hookups on location, or ever?” Sutton’s gaze returned to Xavier. Contessina’s assessment of him didn’t match Sutton’s experience. Because in hindsight, that night had been nothing but a casual hookup, at least on his end.
“Currently? No to both. Not sure about ever. There’s rumor he was involved with an actress—Mimi Kingston—before she hit it big.”
Sutton kept her expression neutral through sheer force of will. Mimi Kingston was the talented star of a prestigious streaming television series. And gorgeous.
“But no one knows his whole story, well, maybe no one other than Jay.” Contessina shrugged. “The scuttlebutt is something tragic happened to Xavier a long time ago. It’s why he stopped making films for a while.”
Sutton frowned. After Xavier left Los Angeles University, four years passed until he released his next indie film. She’d assumed the delay was because he couldn’t find financing or a backer. Her heart pinged at the thought that something devastating might have happened. Maybe she would have heard if she hadn’t spent those years studiously trying to avoid all mention of him and his career… “What was the tragedy?”
“Someone close to him died? I think? There’s nothing online and it’s not exactly something you make small talk about on the set. ‘Hey, Xavier, in this scene I think Lys should be angrier about the systemic injustices visited on this planet by the Maro Empyreal, and by the way, please tell me your sad backstory.’ Anyway, giving you a heads-up because I’ve watched several people be the Titanic to Xavier’s iceberg. And I’d like it if you stuck around.”
Sutton swirled her glass, creating a mini purple whirlpool. “Thanks. But no need for the warning. There’s nothing between me and Xavier. Now or later.”
“If you say so.” Contessina nodded her head. “Okay, my good deed for the day is done.” Her gaze focused on a point over Sutton’s shoulder and she waved. Sutton turned to see an older white man with a well-trimmed beard waving at Contessina. “You don’t mind if I leave, do you?” Contessina asked. “That’s Hugh, the makeup assistant. I brought him some presents from LA.”
“Be my guest.” Sutton appreciated Contessina’s company, but she wouldn’t mind some time to herself. She needed to process what she’d learned. Especially about Xavier.
“Thanks.” Contessina hopped off her stool, but before leaving, she threw her arms around Sutton in a bear hug. “And thanks again for letting me go home. I’m excited to work with you.” She stepped back. “Oops, sorry again. I really am working on boundaries.”
Sutton smiled. “Hugs are great. You have my permission.”
Contessina blew her a kiss and ventured into the throng. Sutton watched as she found Hugh, linking arms with him as they spoke. Then her gaze slid, yet again, over to Xavier. He had made his way—or more probably, the crowd around him finally allowed him to advance—to the middle of the area set aside for dining, but he was still surrounded by members of the crew two or three people deep. Those surrounding Xavier appeared to be hanging on his every word, but out of respect as colleagues. There was nothing fake about their interactions, the typical Hollywood kiss-up game that Sutton had seen played and, yes, played herself to get ahead, gain power, secure a favor.
She should force herself to mingle. The side-eyes and whispered conversations seemed to have died down. Although that could be due to the social lubricant provided by the cocktails she drank—much faster than she should have, if she were being honest—giving her confidence to approach people she didn’t know.
She turned to face the bar to say goodbye to the bartender and found Contessina’s recently vacated stool had been occupied. A boy, somewhere between ten to fourteen, if her experiences visiting her cousins was any indication. “Hello,” she said.
“Hey,” he said. He didn’t look up from what appeared to be a comic book in front of him.
“Aren’t you a little young to be sitting at a bar?” she asked.
The boy kept his gaze focused on his reading material. “You try finding another place to sit around here.”
“The area is pretty crowded,” she agreed. There was something familiar about him, but she’d met so many new people and was still putting names and positions on the crew to faces that she didn’t dare guess to whom he belonged. “Do you have a parent working on the movie? Are you here for a visit?”
“Sort of.” He flipped a page and resumed his head-down position.
She could take a hint. “I get it. I didn’t want to talk to random adults when I was your age, either. Actually, I guess you shouldn’t talk to random people you don’t know, period. Carry on.” She leaned down to grab her tote bag.
“You’re not random. You’re the new suit.” He flipped another page.
She straightened up. “I was, but now I’m the new producer. Who told you that?”
He waved a hand at the crowd on the lawn. “Them.”
That was helpful. But probably what she deserved for trying to pry. “As it turns out, I have a name. I’m Sutton.”
She held out her right hand. The kid raised his gaze and blinked at her before giving her a surprisingly firm handshake. “Erik.”
“Nice to meet you.” She glanced down, her gaze landing on the comic book. “Hey, are you reading The Fabulous Five ?”
Erik turned to her. For the first time something like interest lit his gaze. “You know The Fabulous Five ?”
“I started reading about their adventures when I was around your age? Maybe. I was ten.”
Erik gave her a withering stare. “I’m twelve. But I started reading this book when I was nine.”
“I like the current run. I thought the last writer went too far off track, taking away Hamilton’s A-chromosome and saying he never had one.”
Erik’s stare turned thoughtful. “Yeah, Ham having an A-chromosome is an important part of who he is. He has it back now.”
Sutton nodded. “I saw. And Jain and Riley have finally reunited. Which should have happened ages ago.”
Erik made a face. “That was stupid, splitting them apart. It was done just for drama.”
“Well, stories need drama. Or conflict, which might be more precise. But I agree. The breakup was bad drama. Now, killing off Br’voor—” she exchanged a conspiratorial smile with Erik “—that was satisfying.”
“Definitely. Even if no one stays dead in comics.”
“No one except Uncle Ben in Spider-Man, but who wants to read Spider-Man these days? Unless it’s Miles Morales.”
“Miles is great.” Erik slid his issue of The Fabulous Five over to her, revealing a stack of additional comics that had been concealed underneath. “Have you seen the latest? It came out this week. I’ve finished the issue if you want to take it with you. All my friends are into manga, so no one else wants to read them.” He grinned, his invisible braces not so invisible. “I know where to find you so you can give it back. You’re in Pauley’s office, right? Since he’s gone now.”
“I am. You’re well informed.” She wondered whose kid he was. Someone who worked in the production office instead of on the film crew, she bet. They would be more likely to know about Pauley’s departure. “Tell you what, why you don’t keep the book and—”
“Excuse me.” Xavier’s voice. In her right ear. She swiveled her barstool so fast her knees almost slammed into his thighs. He stepped aside in time. “I was wondering if I could borrow you?” He glanced over and did a double take when he spotted companion. “Erik. What are you doing here?”
“Reading.” Erik picked the next book off the pile and opened the cover.
“Where’s Ilsa?”
“Getting food.” Erik waved his hand toward the barbeque pit and the thick lines of people waiting to be served.
“I see you two have met.” Xavier’s unreadable gaze ping-ponged between Sutton and Erik.
“Uh-huh.” Erik remained laser-focused on the comic.
“You okay?” Sutton studied Xavier. His usual calm, cool manner had taken on an edge. Almost as if he were perturbed to see her. Or maybe he was perturbed to see her sitting next to Erik. But why?
“I’m fine.” But Xavier’s gaze lingered on Erik before his focus returned to Sutton. “We need to make an announcement to the crew about you replacing Pauley before people wander off to start their weekend.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” The butterflies in her stomach turned into hummingbirds. She had no problems speaking to a conference room, even one full of executives much more senior to her, as long as she had a well-rehearsed presentation with audiovisual aids. But speaking to a large crowd, most of whom appeared to highly respect Xavier and would be wondering how she measured up, both to him and to Pauley? Instant apprehension.
“Great.” He signaled to the bartender, who produced a large handheld cowbell. The sound was deafening, and Sutton had to resist the urge to cover her ears. She turned to Xavier. “Thanks for this. I want the team to know they can approach me as the producer.”
He frowned. “Approach…? No, the announcement is to stop rumors about Pauley before they affect morale. Why did you think—”
The ringing abruptly stopped, leaving the area deadly silent by comparison. Sutton broke the battle with his gaze to realize everyone was staring at the two of them. She swallowed, but the lump in her throat only thickened.
He smiled, wide and confident. As he stepped forward, the throng drew back to give him space. Someone, she didn’t see who, slapped a beer bottle into his hand and he raised it to the sky. “It’s been a long week. Here’s to your hard work and dedication. To The Quantum Wraith !”
The crew cheered as if one, raising their own glasses in return. He turned to Sutton, motioning for her to join him. She did, giving a half wave with her right hand. “I want to introduce everyone to Sutton Spencer. She’s going to step in for Pauley Robbins as the producer—”
“What happened to Pauley?” came a shout from the crowd, with others murmuring their endorsement of the question. “Why’d he leave?” asked another voice.
Xavier silenced the growing cacophony with one raised eyebrow. “Pauley chose to depart,” he said. “And that’s the end of that story. We’re lucky to have Sutton come on board to replace him.” He turned to her. “Sutton?”
She cleared her throat. The hummingbirds were now crows, and there was a particularly large one lodged in her throat. “Kellen Felder, the president to Monument Studios, is excited to have The Quantum Wraith as Monument’s next summer tentpole film.” Well, maybe excited was an exaggeration. But there was enough truth to allow her to speak with conviction. “I’m thrilled to be the newest member of team. I can’t wait to get to know all of you individually and learn what your roles are on the film.” The more information she had, the better she could use that data to fine-tune the budget and schedule. “If you see me on the set, please say hi.”
Xavier shot her a surprised, maybe even shocked glance before his features evened out. “I’m sure some here would like to chat, when and if it’s appropriate. So if you are a department head and it’s the very rare occasion when Luisa or I aren’t available to answer your question, Sutton will be using Pauley’s old office. Otherwise, team, keep on doing the amazing work you’re already doing.”
“My door is always open,” Sutton said, her smile wide but her jaw clenched. “To everyone. You don’t need a reason to come find me if you want.”
A pulse beat in his neck that hadn’t been there previously. “And we appreciate that. But we know how busy you will be keeping the channels open with Monument ,” and he stressed the studio’s name. “We’re lucky to have someone so passionate about numbers and budgets on the team.”
Murmuring assent could be heard coming from the crowd. She knew what he was doing. He was reminding the crew she was a Monument employee whose responsibility was watching the studio’s money. And he was preying on the natural suspicion of creative personnel toward the entity holding the purse strings. Long held conventional wisdom said the studio would always choose money over art. Which wasn’t fair—plenty of artistic films had been bankrolled by studios—but wasn’t false, either.
Regardless, he was drawing a line. And she’d be damned if she let him put her in a box for his convenience. She wasn’t that moonstruck girl from all those years ago who worshipped the great Xavier Duval. The shoe was very much on the other foot.
“I’m here to support the entire production,” she countered, her tone so sweet, honey would taste bitter by comparison. “Nothing matters more than ensuring The Quantum Wraith becomes the box office hit it deserves to be. And I am thrilled to make certain the film will continue its road to success without incurring obstacles that could derail or even…” she turned to Xavier, batting her eyelashes for a half-second “…cancel the film,” she finished.
His gaze narrowed, his mouth firming as he silently acknowledged she scored a point. “And we are privileged to have you do just that. In the production office. Away from the distractions of the set, so you have the time and space for your very important work,” he said, and then turned to the crowd before she could formulate a comeback. “Announcement over, you can return to your evening already in progress. Enjoy the food and drinks. And let’s give a big round of appreciation for our leading lady, Contessina Sato, for tonight’s provisions.”
A cheer for Contessina went up, and then the crowd started to disperse. But Sutton saw the various reactions to his announcement: hands covering amused smiles, eyebrows raised skeptically, mouths leaning close to ears to whisper. She turned to confront him at the same instant he wheeled on his heel to face her.
“What the hell was that?” he started, his voice pitched low but irate.
“How dare you undermine me.” She balled her hands on her hips.
He scoffed, his mouth leaning toward her ear to minimize the chances of their discussion being overheard. “Undermine? I had to drag you out of the office to make you appear tonight.” His breath tickled her cheek, and she shivered.
“Make me? As if you have the power to make me do anything. As soon I realized what was happening—”
“You can’t have everyone on the set come to you for every little thing. You’ll be overwhelmed.”
She stood on her tiptoes so their gazes were level. Their mouths, too. “You made me sound like nothing but a bean counter.”
“If the description fits…”
“May I remind you this film was about to go to the great tax write-off in the sky and I—”
“Hey, guys? Can you do this somewhere else?” Erik spoke at a normal volume, cutting through their hushed argument. “I’m still reading here.”
Xavier’s gaze tore away from Sutton’s almost with an audible pop to focus on Erik. The disconnect left her reeling, so intense had been the connection. She couldn’t get enough air, her lungs flailing, and the world tilted around her for a dangerous second. She grabbed the back of a barstool.
“Take this,” Xavier said, pushing a bottle of water in her direction. “Drink. You might be dehydrated.”
Sutton left the bottle untouched. She wasn’t dehydrated. She had been Xaviered, the old sensation of her senses going haywire whenever he was near. She took a deep breath, wishing she had paid more attention in yoga class. The ability to center herself would be useful about now.
“You okay?” he asked, their argument dropped for the moment.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
Xavier turned to Erik, his expression once again unreadable. If she had to stab at a guess, disquiet was the closest she could get. “You should be doing homework instead of looking at comics. Why don’t you go to the house while I find Ilsa?”
Erik shot him a look that could freeze the surrounding desert. “It’s Friday.”
Sutton glanced between the two as they continued to argue. Now that they were standing close together…
Erik’s hair was fine and straight and dark blond, while Xavier’s head of thick black waves refused to stay combed. Erik’s chin was pointed while Xavier’s was square, Erik’s eyes were a light blue in contrast to Xavier’s deep brown irises.
But Erik’s expressions were pure Xavier. The same ferocious drawing together of eyebrows, indicating a severe storm was on the way. The same rigid set of their jaw. The same flashing warning signs in their gazes that told onlookers to get out of the way and seek shelter, now, to avoid any fallout.
Her gaze volleyed between Xavier and Erik. The more she looked, the more similarities she saw.
And Erik was twelve. That meant…he had been a toddler ten years ago. When she and Xavier…
And Xavier never said a word.
Was that why he…
“Wait…oh my…no.” The words escaped her in a breathy exhale. The cocktails that had gone down so easily less than an hour previously now threatened to make a reappearance, her stomach violently awash in acidic bile. She clasped her right hand to her mouth. She had to get out of there. Now. Before she…
Too late.