20. Sebastian
I spent a week planning.
Seven days of phone calls and negotiations and sleepless nights. Seven days of ironing out every detail with Mr. Kahale, making sure the paperwork was perfect, making sure I hadn't left any loose ends that could unravel at the worst possible moment.
Now I sat in my study, staring at the manila envelope on my desk, and realized I had absolutely no idea what to do next.
The envelope contained the deed to the Kahale Grande. Signed over to Aria Kealoha. All I had to do was give it to her, explain what I'd done, and hope she didn't throw it back in my face.
But that wasn't enough. Not after what I'd put her through.
I needed something bigger. Something that would show her I understood the magnitude of what I'd broken. Something that would prove I was willing to fight for her, to humble myself, to become the kind of man who deserved a second chance.
I drummed my fingers against the desk. Stared at the ceiling. Stood up, paced to the window, paced back.
Maybe I could donate to her foundation. A substantial amount, enough to fund one of her programs for years. That would show I cared about the things she cared about.
No. Too impersonal. Too much like throwing money at a problem, which was exactly what she'd accused me of doing my entire life.
Maybe I could write her a letter. A long, heartfelt email explaining everything. I could take my time, choose my words carefully, make sure I said exactly what I meant without stumbling over myself the way I always did when she was standing in front of me.
No. Too cowardly. After everything, she deserved to hear the words from my mouth, not read them on a screen.
Maybe I could show up at the foundation with flowers. Classic. Romantic. The kind of thing people did in movies when they wanted to win someone back.
I pictured myself standing in her doorway, clutching a bouquet like some lovesick teenager, while Priya glared at me and Nalani made pointed comments about restraining orders.
Definitely not.
I sank back into my chair and pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw spots.
There was only one person who could help me. One person who had pissed off enough women in his lifetime to have become an expert in the art of the grand gesture.
I grabbed my keys and headed for the door.
The drive to Xavier's apartment took twenty minutes. I spent every one of them rehearsing what I would say, how I would ask for help without sounding completely pathetic.
I failed on both counts.
Xavier opened the door in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt, his hair sticking up in three different directions. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, which he probably had. It was two in the afternoon.
"Brother." He leaned against the doorframe, eyebrows rising. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I need your help."
The eyebrows climbed higher. "You need my help."
"Yes."
"You. Sebastian Dubois. The man who’s spent the last decade bailing me out of every conceivable disaster." A grin spread across his face, slow and delighted. "You need help from your screw-up little brother."
"Are you going to let me in or not?"
He stepped aside with an exaggerated bow. I pushed past him into the apartment, which looked exactly like I expected. Expensive furniture, empty takeout containers on the coffee table, a trail of clothes leading toward the bedroom. Xavier's natural habitat.
"So." He dropped onto the couch and kicked his feet up. "What's the crisis? Did one of your spreadsheets develop a personality? Did a contract disagree with you?"
"It's about Aria."
The teasing faded from his expression. He sat up straighter, actually paying attention now. "Ah. The woman you're hopelessly in love with but managed to spectacularly alienate."
"That's the one."
"And you need my help because..."
"Because I need to do something big. Something that will show her I'm serious.
" I started pacing, the way I always did when I was working through a problem.
"I have the deed to the hotel. Mr. Kahale agreed to sell to her instead.
But I don't think I can just walk up and hand it over.
I need to apologize properly first. I need to make a gesture. "
Xavier was staring at me with an expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.
"A gesture," he repeated.
"Yes."
"You want me to help you make a romantic gesture."
"That's what I said."
He burst out laughing.
The sound filled the apartment, bouncing off the high ceilings, echoing through the open floor plan. He laughed until tears formed in the corners of his eyes, until he was clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.
"I'm so glad you find this amusing," I said flatly.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He wiped his eyes, still grinning. "It's just... Sebastian. You convinced a woman to marry you. You had a whole wife. However, did you manage that if you don't know how to woo someone?"
The question landed somewhere tender. I looked away.
"Caroline was different. We made sense on paper. Our families approved. The courtship was..." I searched for the right word. "Transactional."
Xavier's grin faded. "That's depressing."
"I know." I met his eyes. "Aria isn't like that. She doesn't care about what makes sense on paper. She cares about what's real." I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself, with my inability to articulate this. "I don't know how to show her that I'm real. That what I feel is real."
My brother studied me for a long moment. I braced myself for another joke, another quip at my expense.
Instead, he stood up.
"Alright," he said. "I'll help you."
Relief flooded through me. "Thank you. I—"
"On one condition."
I should have known. Nothing with Xavier was ever simple.
"What condition?"
He smiled. That particular smile that usually preceded something I would regret. "You'll owe me. And when the time comes, I'll collect."
I thought about what that could mean. Knowing Xavier, it could be anything. Money. Connections. Cleaning up some catastrophic mess he'd gotten himself into. The possibilities were endless and none of them were good.
But Aria was worth it. Aria was worth anything.
"Fine," I said. "We have a deal."
Xavier clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now, let's get to work."
The next three hours were a blur.
Xavier made phone calls. Dozens of them, to people I didn't know, arranging things I didn't understand. He commandeered my credit card, ordered supplies, and enlisted the help of a blonde woman named Celeste who apparently owed him a favor.
I tried to follow along, to understand what he was planning, but he waved off my questions with increasingly impatient hand gestures.
"Trust me," he said, for the fifteenth time. "This is what I do."
"You've never held a job in your life."
"Exactly. I've had to develop other skills." He was texting rapidly, his thumbs flying across the screen. "Romance is one of them."
By six o'clock, we were parked two blocks from the Kealoha Foundation, in a spot with a clear view of the front entrance.
Celeste had met us there twenty minutes earlier, carrying shopping bags and wearing an expression of long-suffering patience that suggested she'd done this kind of thing for Xavier before.
I watched through the windshield as they worked.
String lights, strung between two trees across the street from the foundation's entrance.
Dozens of candles in glass holders, arranged in a pattern I couldn't quite make out from this distance.
Flowers everywhere, the kind Aria loved, the ones that grew wild in the gardens of the Kahale Grande.
When they finished, Celeste jogged back to the car.
"All set," she said, slightly breathless. She was pretty, I noticed distantly. Blonde hair, bright eyes, the kind of easy smile that probably got her whatever she wanted. "The lighter's in the bag. Make sure you light the candles before she gets there, or the whole effect is ruined."
Xavier pulled her close and kissed her, deep and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. I looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. When had my brother gotten a girlfriend? Why hadn't I known about this?
"Thank you, sweetheart," Xavier murmured against her lips. "I owe you."
"You owe me dinner. Somewhere expensive." She pulled back, patted his cheek, and walked off down the sidewalk without looking back.
Xavier turned to me, all business now.
"Alright. Here's the plan." He reached into the backseat and pulled out a large piece of cardboard. "You're going to stand in front of the arrangement. I'm going to go get Aria. When we come out, you hold this up, read what's written on it, and then you speak from the heart."
I looked at the cardboard. Someone had written “Aria, I’m sorry” on it in elegant script, the letters large enough to read from twenty feet away. On the back, there was a pasted printout of a speech that made me tear up as I read through it.
My throat constricted. "Xavier..."
"Don't get emotional on me yet. Save it for her." He shoved a bag into my hands. Lighter, backup candles, tissues. "Go. Light everything. I'll bring her out in ten minutes."
I climbed out of the car on unsteady legs.
The evening air was warm, tinged with the smell of late summer and car exhaust and something floral from the arrangement ahead. My hands trembled as I lit the candles, one by one, watching the flames flicker to life in their glass prisons.
When I finished, I stepped back to look at what Xavier and Celeste had created.
The string lights formed a canopy of soft gold against the darkening sky. The candles spelled out words on the sidewalk, their flames dancing in the breeze.
FORGIVE ME.
The flowers surrounded everything, bursts of color in the fading light. I recognized them now. Plumeria. The same flowers that had been in Aria's hair the night of the gala.
I pulled the manila envelope from my jacket pocket. Felt the weight of it in my hands, the weight of everything it represented.
Then I waited.