8. Xavier
I was in trouble.
Professionally, the Cole Matthews deal was getting complicated. Every time I thought we'd ironed out the details, his team came back with new concerns, new clauses, new demands that made Sebastian's jaw tighten and my headaches worse.
Personally, I couldn't stop thinking about Kim.
It had become a problem. A real, actual problem that I had no idea how to solve.
I noticed everything now. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating.
The exact shade of exhaustion that crept into her face around four in the afternoon, when the day had worn her down, but she still had hours to go.
The way her fingers moved across her keyboard, quick and efficient.
The way she said my name, like she was still deciding whether I deserved the familiarity of it.
I found excuses to call her into my office. A file I could have retrieved myself. A question I could have emailed. A meeting I wanted her opinion on, as if I'd ever needed anyone's opinion on meetings before.
I was aware of how pathetic it made me.
The worst part was that it was working. Not the deal—the deal was still a mess—but the arrangement.
My grandmother had backed off, stopped showing up unannounced, and stopped making pointed comments about my timeline.
She seemed to genuinely like Kim, kept calling her "a breath of fresh air" and "exactly what you need. "
She wasn't wrong.
Kim was a good influence on me. I'd started showing up to work on time. Started actually reading the reports instead of skimming them. Started caring about things I'd never cared about before, just because I knew she was watching, and I didn't want to disappoint her.
When had her opinion started mattering so much?
That night, after work, I was sprawled on my couch, staring at the ceiling and definitely not thinking about the way Kim had smiled at me when I'd made a stupid joke about spreadsheets, when my buzzer rang.
Isaac's face appeared on the security camera. He was grinning, which meant trouble.
I let him up.
"Get dressed," he said, pushing past me into the apartment. "We're going out."
"I don't want to go out."
"That's exactly why we're going out." He surveyed my sweatpants and t-shirt with obvious disdain. "Look at you. This is sad. When did you become a hermit?"
"I'm not a hermit. I'm... resting."
"You're moping." He grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the bedroom. "Come on. Let’s go to the club, everyone's going to be there. It'll be fun."
"I don't want fun."
"Xavier." Isaac stopped, turning to face me with an expression that was almost serious. "You've been weird for weeks. I'm worried about you. Just come out, have a drink, remember what it feels like to be young and irresponsible."
I wanted to say no. Wanted to stay home and stare at my ceiling and think about Kim's smile some more.
But Isaac was right. I had been weird. And maybe getting out of my head for a few hours would help.
"Fine," I said. "One hour."
"That's my boy."
The club was exactly what I’d expected. Loud music, flashing lights, beautiful people in expensive clothes pretending to have the time of their lives.
A few months ago, this would have been my natural habitat. I would have worked the room, charmed the bartenders, left with someone whose name I'd forget by morning.
Now I stood by the bar, nursing a drink I didn't want, checking my phone every thirty seconds.
"You're staring at that thing like it owes you money," Isaac observed. He'd appeared at my elbow, two shots in hand. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Waiting for an email."
"At eleven o'clock at night?"
"It's an important email."
Isaac handed me one of the shots. I took it but didn't drink. He studied me for a long moment, something sparking behind his eyes.
"What's her name?"
"What?"
"The girl." He smirked. "There's always a girl when you get like this. So who is it? Mia? Did she finally get under your skin?"
"No. It's not Mia."
"Then who?" His smirk widened. "Wait. Don't tell me." He leaned closer, voice dropping. "Is this about the fake girlfriend?"
My jaw tightened.
"It is." Isaac laughed, delighted. "Oh, this is perfect. Xavier Dubois, falling for his own con. Are you actually—"
"No." I cut him off. "I'm not falling for anyone."
"Sure." He was still grinning.
"Isaac—"
"Come on, man. I know what you look like when you're into someone." He clapped me on the shoulder. "And you, my friend, are in deep."
I didn't respond. I couldn't respond, because the frustration building in my chest was too big for words. Frustration at Isaac for seeing too much. At myself for being so obvious. At the whole situation, which had spiraled so far beyond my control that I didn't know how to get it back.
"I'm leaving," I said.
"What? We just got here."
"I know." I set down my untouched shot. "I'll call you tomorrow."
I pushed through the crowd and out into the cold night air. The silence was a relief after the pounding music. I stood on the sidewalk, breathing deep, trying to clear my head.
It didn't work.
The drive home was quiet. My apartment was quieter. I stripped off my jacket, loosened my tie, and collapsed onto my couch in the dark.
Kim.
I couldn't stop thinking about her. She was a good mother.
That was what struck me most. The way she put Zoe first, always, without hesitation.
The way she worked herself to exhaustion to provide for her daughter.
The way she'd built a life from nothing, with no one to help her, no safety net, no model for what a family was supposed to look like.
Kim would never abandon Zoe. That thought kept circling back, again and again. She would never leave her child the way my biological mother had left me.
Helena wouldn't either, I realized. My stepmother had taken me in, raised me as her own, and loved me without condition or reservation. She'd never made me feel like an outsider, never treated me as less than Sebastian or Isabelle.
I'd been so focused on my biological mother's abandonment that I'd forgotten what I had. What I'd always had.
Kim was like Helena. Strong. Loyal. The kind of person you wanted in your corner, the kind who would fight for you even when you didn't deserve it.
Maybe one day I could be like that too. Responsible. Dependable. The kind of person who showed up, who stayed, who didn't run when things got hard.
Would I want to be a father?
The question surfaced unexpectedly, catching me off guard. I'd never thought about it before. Kids had always been a distant concept, something that happened to other people, not to Xavier Dubois, who couldn't commit to a dinner reservation, let alone a lifetime.
But spending time with Zoe had changed something. Watching her laugh at my kite disasters. Feeling her small hand in mine. The way she'd hugged me goodbye, her arms tight around my neck, her trust absolute and unearned.
Maybe I did want that. Someday. With the right person.
Kim's face flashed through my mind.
I pushed the thought away. It was too much, too fast, too dangerous. This was an arrangement. A business deal. I couldn't afford to forget that.
But as I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't make myself believe it anymore.
The next morning, I threw myself into work.
The call with Titan Ventures was scheduled for ten.
I spent the hour before reviewing every document, every clause, every number.
If this deal fell through, Sebastian would never let me hear the end of it.
More importantly, I'd prove everyone right—all the people who'd said I was a screwup, a playboy, a waste of a VP title.
I wasn't going to let that happen.
At ten o'clock, Kim connected the call and exited the room swiftly. Cole Matthews's face appeared on my screen, his expression neutral, unreadable.
"Mr. Dubois." His voice was smooth, professional. "Shall we get started?"
"Let's."
We went through the contract line by line. Revenue projections. Risk assessments. Timeline for construction. Marketing strategy. Every point he raised, I had an answer for. Every concern, I addressed with data and confidence.
"The profit margins look ambitious," Cole said, leaning back in his chair. "Your projections assume a ninety-two percent occupancy rate in year one. That's optimistic."
"It's based on market analysis of comparable properties in the Miami area. The Peninsula and the Faena both hit similar numbers in their first year." I pulled up the relevant slides. "We're targeting the same demographic with a superior location and more competitive pricing."
Cole studied the numbers. I held my breath. "And the timeline? Eighteen months seems aggressive."
"We've built in contingency for weather delays and permit issues. The construction team has a track record of delivering on time. I can send you their portfolio if you'd like to review it."
Silence stretched across the call. Cole's eyes moved across his screen, reading something I couldn't see.
"Alright," he said finally. "I'm satisfied with the terms."
I exhaled slowly. "So we have a deal?"
"We have a deal." A hint of a smile crossed his face. "I'll have my team draw up the final contracts. We can sign next week. Say, Thursday?"
"Thursday works."
"Good." He nodded once. "I'll be in touch with the details."
The call ended. I stared at the blank screen for a moment, letting it sink in.
I'd done it. I'd actually done it. Twenty million dollars, locked down, no help from Sebastian, no one holding my hand.
I wanted to tell someone. Wanted to celebrate. Wanted to—
Kim. I wanted to tell Kim.
I stood and walked to my office door. She was at her desk, typing something, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up when she sensed me watching.
"Everything okay?"
"The Titan deal finally closed." I couldn't keep the grin off my face. "We're signing next Thursday."
Her eyes widened. "Xavier, that's wonderful. Congratulations."