4. Xander

Iline up for my next swing, trying to get the perfect balance of speed and accuracy to sink a putt. A breath leaves me as I take the swing. Someone lets out a chuckle before clapping.

Excellent form, Xander. Have you been practicing?

I turn to look at the middle aged man in his fifties. Graying brown hair, light brown eyes. He’s wearing a white polo shirt, paired with blue gold pants. I shift the visor on my head slightly before shaking it.

“Not really,” I inform Mr. Rojas.

I hate golfing. But when youre in a business that involves having meetings on a golf course with old billionaires who enjoy the sport, you tend not to have a choice.

“Could have fooled me,” he says.

Mr. Rojas is one of my father’s oldest friends and business partner. He’s partnered with us our company on a variety of projects over the years. And I’m here today to try and cut a deal with him for our next partnership.

“So have you heard about our latest project, sir? The one with holographic interface?” I ask, as he gets ready to take his own swing.

Rojas chuckles. You Steeles are all the same. Havent you learned not to mix business with pleasure?

“Considering right now was the only appropriate time I could have met you that fit into both our schedules, sir, I think it’s the perfect situation to mix business with pleasure.”

He smiles before taking the swing and absolutely missing. He doesn’t seem too bothered by it though. He turns to me with a sigh.

I already saw the proposal. Cutting-edge technology like that could revolutionize the market. But the financials are a tad bit worrying.

“Which is why I’m here. We’d like to ask for your help with financing the project. We’d offer you a competitive licensing deal for it.”

His gaze is thoughtful as he says. “I see the potential but I also need to ensure that our interests align. It’s a big project. And I’m not feeling that pull yet.”

My jaw clenches. What more could he possibly want?

“What do I need to do in order to get you to feel that pull?” I ask.

He places his hand on his jaw thoughtfully before offering me a small smile.

“Remember my daughter who’s around your age?”

“Vividly,” I say dryly, already aware of where this is going.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’s mentioned his amazing daughter who would make the perfect wife for me.

“She recently returned from Chile a couple of weeks ago. Went there for volunteer work. But she’s back now. Would you like to go on a date with her?”

“If I go on a date with her, will you invest in the tech?” I question bluntly.

He laughs. He really laughs way too much. It’s unnerving. No one should be so jovial. Especially not a man who’s built a multi-million dollar corporation. There’s no way he got so far without occasionally getting his hands dirty.

“Careful, Xander. You’re making it out to be like I’m blackmailing you.”

Becauseyouare.

“Of course not, Mr. Rojas,” I say with a disarming smile. “I’ll go on a date with your daughter. It wouldn’t be the first time. But it doesn’t seem to matter how many countries she visits for volunteer work or how many dates we go on, our interests don’t seem to align.”

“That’s true. I have another daughter though,” he says grinning.

“Sir,” I say on a sigh.

“Alright, alright. You can’t blame me for trying. You’d make a great son in law, Xander. I’m surprised no women have snatched you up by now. Try not to remain a bachelor for much longer.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll get back to you on that investment,” he assures me. Then his eyes brighten. “Which reminds me, I hear your father’s opening a branch in New York.”

“Yes. It’s in the last stages of development before the grand opening in a month or so. It’s a move to tap into the bustling tech scene over there in New York.”

“Who’s he sending to oversee things there?”

“He hasn’t told me. I’m sure it’ll be one of the managers.”

“New York’s a big city. He’ll have to send someone he really trusts to take care of things.”

I shrug. “That’s his decision.”

Truthfully, I haven’t thought much about the New York branch being opened. It was always inevitable considering New York’s large market. I’m glad father’s finally pushing on with it, but with everything I have to take care of here, it’s barely in my headspace.

The meeting or should I say the game with Mr. Rojas ends and I’m about to head home when I get a call. As soon as the caller id flashes on the screen of my phone I pick up. Like I always do. No matter where I am or who I’m meeting.

I hear my son’s voice as soon as I pick up.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hi, sport. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. There was a spelling bee in class today.”

“And?” I prompt.

“I got twenty five words right out of thirty. Disappointing right?” he asks.

I chuckle. “Actually, sport, I’d say that’s pretty great actually.”

“No, it’s not. I could have gotten all the words right.”

“And I’m sure you will next time, my little over achiever.”

“Whatever,” he says, a little attitude in his voice. The more he grows, the less he acts like my adorable baby. We’ve come a long way. “Are you coming home tonight?”

“Uh.. I don’t know, sport. I’ve got a pile of documents to get back to in the office.”

“But you haven’t been home in three days. And you promised to have dinner with me twice a week. We’ve only had dinner once this week and the week’s almost over.”

“Excellent deduction,” I say dryly.

“Will you come home or not?”

“A little demanding, are we?”

“I miss you, dad,” he says in a low voice and just like that my heart warms.

“I miss you too, Nate,” I say, inhaling softly. I hate this. How much I have to work, the way it feels like I’m failing him, every single time. “I’ll be home by 8pm.”

“Yay! I’ll let grandma know so we can have dinner by 8.”

“Is your aunt around?”

“She said she was tired and went up to her room a couple hours ago,” his voice drops to a whisper on the next sentence. “I think she’s just getting drunk because she’s sad she got dumped by her boyfriend.”

A smile involuntarily creeps across my face. “And you know this how?”

“I heard it. And then I pieced the pieces together,” he informs me. “She had that look on her face that she gets when she’s heartbroken. I called it a poopy face and grandma laughed at me. She was also wearing the perfume she wears when she goes on a date but she looked sad when she came in so it wasn’t hard to know why.”

Nathaniel’s a nine year old with an affinity for eavesdropping, add that with an uncanny desire to know and understand everything and anything and I’ve got a little detective on my hands. He’s a kid who spends his free time solving puzzles and taking apart computers. When he’s not doing that, he’s either reading some book or doing school work. He never causes any trouble, extremely well behaved and polite and also a little antisocial.

Honestly, he’s a perfect kid. And I’m grateful every day that I have him in my life. He’s the most important thing to me.

“We’ll question your aunt about the break up over dinner,” I assure him.

“Okay, dad. Drive safe.” He hangs up and I debate heading to the office or just calling it a day so I can spend more time with my son.

In the end I choose to head home. Nate will always be my priority. The large gates into my family’s home swing open with only one press of a button in my car. I can’t see it, but there’s a facial recognition security software running as I drive past the gates to confirm my identity. We don’t have guards or people to protect us. All we have is technology.

The mansion is huge, with more rooms than I’ve ever had time to count. It’s built on an expansive land that has the house, a cottage and even a horse racing track in the back. I grew up here. All my childhood memories are here.

I drive up to the front of the house where our personal valet is already waiting to drive the car into the garage. He accepts the key from me once I step out. I offer him a short nod before heading up the steps leading into the house. It’s quiet, echoey. It’s always been like that, which makes sense considering only five people live there. Apart from the help of course. The house is huge, much too large for us. I used to hate it here. It made me feel so small and growing up here was lonely. Then I met Nate and his presence has helped greatly with the hollowness in my chest.

I find him in one of the living rooms with his grandmother. He comes running at me as soon as I appear in the doorway. I’m already in position. Knees bent and body braced for impact. Despite bracing myself, the force of his hug manages to knock me slightly backward. My breath leaves me in a rush as I hold his body to mine. He’s so much bigger, already five feet tall. He’s a bit lanky but he’s growing faster.

“Damn, sport. You’re getting way too big for this,” I say affectionately ruffling his head full of curly brown hair.

“Hi, dad,” he says, leaning backward so he can look me over. “You look tired.”

I smile. “Thanks, Nate. That’s what every man wants to hear.”

“You’ll never guess what I did today,” he starts telling me, his green eyes gleaming.

He has a line of freckles dotting under his eyes and over his nose.

“Considering I’m never able to guess half the things you do, I’m sure that’s correct.”

“Grandma showed me how to fertilize the plants. We used manure. Do you want to know what kind of manure?” he says, his voice going lower. “Horse manure. We went our back to the racing track and got it. Manure is horse shit.”

I make a face. “First off, you’re not allowed to say shit-”

“You say shit all the time.”

“That’s because I’m old,” I counter. “Also, you’re telling me you were packing horse shit? That’s gross, sport.”

He giggles. “You just said shit again, dad.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to step back, Nathaniel. Don’t want you contaminating me,” I say, taking a step away.

He raises his palm towards me. “Its fine, dad. I already washed my hands.”

I shake my head vigorously. “Nope. Stay away from me.”

I pretend to run away and he’s jumping on me in a bid to tackle me. I actually do end up on the floor, his small body above mine.

“Dad, I can’t stay away from you. It’s you and me, remember?” he asks, sitting on my stomach.

My mood sobers up pretty fast at that. I used to say that to him all the time growing up.

“Of course, sport,” I say softly, looking into those green eyes that mirror mine.

I’ve always been glad he has my eyes. Better mine than his mothers’. It would have killed me having to stare into her eyes all the time when I’m with my son.

He finally gets off me and once I’m on my feet, I notice his grandmother has moved closer. She’s staring at us with a soft smile. Isabella Steele in an elegant woman. Pin straight black glossy hair, caramel brown eyes, and brown skin. She’s in her forties but she looks younger. Much too young to already have a nine year old grandchild. She doesn’t though. Not really.

She’s my step mother, meaning she’s technically not related to Nate or I by blood. But she’s his grandmother because she stepped up to fill the role.

“Hey, Isa,” I greet.

“Hello, Xander. How was work?”

“It was alright. Is dad home?”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s just us. He’s on a business trip to Virginia. Apparently, he won’t be back for a couple of days.”

That suits me perfectly. This house is much less stifling when my father isn’t here. It’s much easier to breathe. There’s a shadow in Isabella’s eyes that has me arching an eyebrow. There’s something she’s not telling me.

“Okay. I’ll go wash up and then we can have dinner.”

Nate pulls at my pants. “But dad, I wanted to show you something cool I made. It’s in my room.”

“I’m sure you have many amazing things to show your father, my love,” Isabella states. “But you’ll do all that after dinner, alright? Come on, we can go check on how the meal is coming in the kitchen.”

He pouts but nods, obediently moving to his grandmother’s side. I smile at him before leaving, heading up to my bedroom. The tie around my neck comes off before I step inside. When I walk through the doors though, I pause in my movements. Lying on the bed is my little sister. She’s spread eagled, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn’t so much as shift, or acknowledge my presence.

“Mikayla,” I start. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Big brother,” she says sweetly without looking at me.

I notice the bottle of wine next to the bed. “Isn’t it in poor taste to get drunk before 8pm?”

That makes her look at me. “Who says I’m drunk? I might have indulged in a few sips but I’m perfectly sober.”

The statement would have much more believable if it didn’t end with a small hiccup. I smile.

“What are you even doing in here, trouble?” I ask.

“I like your room,” she says with a sleepy smile.

Mikayla’s 25 years old, 5 foot 7 with eyes like her mother and a smart mouth. I call her trouble, because I’ve had to bail her out of so much shit over the years. Even jail on one occasion. She’s the epitome of living life on the fast lane. It can get a little worrying, but I think it’s her way of coping.

We all grew up in a high stress environment, Kayla just finds a way to release that stress. I just wish it didn’t entail stripping at parties, getting drunk or having poor taste in men.

“Nate says you got dumped.”

She sits up so fast I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. I snicker.

“How does that little imp even know? I haven’t said a word!” she exclaims.

“He has a talent. So which guy is it? The biker one? Do you want me to send someone to rough him up a bit? Why did he break up with you?” I question. “Just to be clear though, I’m asking this out of concern for you, but I am glad the relationship ended.”

“Your honesty is appreciated,” she says sarcastically before reaching for the bottle of wine. I step forward and take it out of her hands.

“That’s enough.”

“You’re no fun,” she murmurs, running her hand through her curly dark hair.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to go in there and change. When I come back out, you should be at least semi-sober, okay?”

She gives me a thumbs up before falling back into the bed and shutting her eyes.

“I said semi-sober, Kay, not asleep,” I add.

She mumbles out an incoherent reply. I’m stepping towards the closet when I hear her voice.

“He said I was unlovable, Xan.” Her voice is low but I’m still able to make out the words.

I still, “You’re not,” I say assuredly without looking back at her. “I love you.”

“Awn, I love you too, big brother.”

She and Nate are the only ones who ever hear those words. I haven’t said them to anyone apart from them in a long time. My son and little sister are the most important people to me. I’d protect them with my life.

“You okay, Aunt Kayla?” Nate questions as we walk into the dining room where he’s already seated with his grandmother.

“Not talking to you, Nancy Drew,” Kayla mutters, unable to walk a straight line.

I laugh softly while Isabella sighs as I place her in one of the chairs. I cross over to the other side of the table to sit down beside Nate. We get to sit more informally when dad’s not home. Usually, we have assigned seats at the table.

“She’s fine,” I mouth at Isabella but she only shakes her head.

Dinner commences with Nate talking my ear off between bites. Another thing he wouldn’t be able to do if my father was here. Just before we’re done eating, Isabella suddenly lifts her head, looking at me.

“Oh yeah. Did you hear Gray’s coming back?” she questions.

My eyebrows go up and I look at Isabella accusingly. She looks away guiltily.

“I was going to mention it after dinner,” she says, glaring at her daughter. “Your father has allowed him to return home.”

“Why?”

I might call Mikayla trouble as a joke, but my brother, Graham has a tendency of actually inciting trouble anywhere he goes. And it’s not the kind of trouble that’s easily managed.

“He needs someone to manage the New York office,” she informs me.

I scoff. “Dad would never send Graham there.”

“You’re right,” Isabella says gently. “Which is why I think he’s considering sending you instead, Alexander.”

The implication of those words takes a while to hit me. When they do, my hands curl into a fist.

“He wants me to move to New York?”

“He’s considering it,” Isabella states.

My jaw clenches. “I’m not going.”

Her expression turns sad, “Honey, I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice.”

My chest rises and falls with each breath. Beside me, Nate taps my hand but I don’t look at him. I haven’t set foot in New York in ten years. That’s the one city that I’ve been steadfast about keeping away from. Because she’s there.

And I want nothing more than to stay the hell away from her.