Chapter Eight

Xavier

I’m a complete asshole.

I run my hands through my hair and grab hold as I stare at the information on my office desktop.

It’s been only two hours since she left. My gut twists as I remember the sheen of tears and the hurt, stricken look on Brooke’s face. She’s not the type to play these games with. I’d refused to believe she didn’t somehow orchestrate her employment as Lisa’s babysitter. It was just too much of a coincidence.

Ever since middle school, I have had girls throw themselves at me, and the lengths some of them have gone to get my body and money has turned me into a cynic when it comes to fate and chance.

I didn’t see her for the rest of the day and even Lisa didn’t once come upstairs after her nap. How Brooke managed that is beyond me, but having seen her with Lisa, whatever else Brooke might be pretending to be, she does know her way around kids .

I’d figured Brooke would have to come upstairs to tuck Lisa in before leaving and debated speaking to her then, but when she called my house phone instead, saying Lisa was now asleep and would I be kind enough to move her to her room upstairs, I knew she’d been too hurt to face me.

Who is this girl?

After she left, I’d caved and had someone look into her. It didn’t take long at all.

I found out that she has only had one boyfriend in all of her twenty-four years. Some douchebag named Phil and they broke up two years ago. She teaches in a school and doesn’t go on dates and hardly goes out clubbing.

Could it be that what happened between us is the first time she’s ever done such a risqué thing?

She was certainly tight enough to make me believe that. I think of how her too-snug, clenching walls felt around my cock and her raw, uninhibited passion, as though she couldn’t help herself, the way she came apart… I want that again.

I wonder if I’m the only other man she’s ever been with and I find I’m perversely pleased by that possibility. Slow down, caveman .

Also, her brother owes some three hundred grand gambling debt. Apart from her usual job, she’s applied on many job sites for work. She’ll run herself ragged trying to pay off that debt . The more I find out about Brooklyn Sofia Lewis, the more of an asshole I feel.

And suddenly I know what I have to do.

The next day, Brooke is still avoiding me and is even more guarded in her interactions. I hate it. When I offer to take them out for ice cream after they return from their walk on the rooftop, Lisa hops up and down in glee, but Brooke begs off, saying she needs to clear up toys and make Lisa’s dinner, much to Lisa’s disappointment.

“Do you want us to get you anything?” I ask her.

“No, I’m good thanks.” She doesn’t meet my eyes and is already moving toward the kitchen island. When she gets near enough, I gently grab her forearm, stopping her.

“Brooke, I’m trying to apologize,” I say.

“Are you? How clumsy of me not to notice.” She glances pointedly at my hand on her arm. I let go of her arm, but she stays.

“You’re not going to make it easy, are you?” I chuckle. “Alright, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” She walks toward the kitchen.

I move toward the counter to face her.

“Whatever made you cry yesterday.”

“I wasn’t crying.”

So stubborn , I think. “Okay, still, that was no way to speak to you.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” she replies.

“Don’t worry about it. I deserved it.”

“Still—” she begins.

“Uncle Xavi, can we go now?” Lisa is impatiently hopping from one foot to the other.

“Sure, buttercup.” To Brooke, I say, “Seriously, it’s fine. Sure you don’t want anything?”

“No, really. Ice cream isn’t really my thing. ”

What is your thing? I want to ask. And suddenly I find myself wanting to know all of her ‘things.’

Later that afternoon, after Lisa and I return from getting ice cream, and Lisa is with Brooke at Zoey’s penthouse, Ryan swings by to return my keys.

He’d taken The Lexi , my catamaran yacht, out for routine servicing. He’d custom-built the thing for me, and I swear he’s more attached to it than I am. Might have something to do with all the partying we do on it.

We’re playing a game of billiards and discussing business when he says, “By the way, Vanessa’s been asking for you.”

“She knows how to reach me,” I reply, wishing the woman would just give up already.

“She wouldn’t be bugging me if she could reach you.”

“You know she came back for you, Xavi,” he says when I remain silent.

“I hope not. Nessa is great and she knows it. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

“But not you.”

“She wants a relationship. That’s just not something on the table for me. Ever.”

“Xavi…” He gets that stupid, pitying look in his eyes.

“Drop it, Ryan,” I snap. “Hell, you sound like Zoey.”

“Sure.” Ryan shrugs.

He changes the topic to our upcoming trip to Cancun. I had forgotten about Alex’s wedding because the last few weeks have been so hectic with trying to close the GIS deal.

Alex is a good friend of ours and the CEO of Pinter, one of the largest liquor companies in the States. His wedding is in three weeks. We had the final fitting for the groomsmen a couple of months ago.

“We should all leave early enough, on the day. Alex will blow a gasket if we miss the rehearsal and you can be the tardiest s.o.b.” Ryan has such a stick up his ass with timing. I feel the beginnings of a headache.

Ryan is saying something about everyone going separately, but I’m no longer paying attention.

“Uh-huh,” I grunt, hitting the ball with more force than necessary.

I fucking hate weddings. Too bad I can’t avoid this one. Maybe if I had something—someone—to take my mind off things…?

By the time Ryan leaves, it’s almost eight p.m. Brooke will leave at eight and return to her life. I may never see her again. I put the check in my back pocket and head downstairs to see her before she slips away.

I find her exactly the way I did yesterday morning, standing by the full-length window, admiring the Manhattan skyline. She looks serene. She turns to face me as I enter.

I catch the remnants of wonder in her eyes and the wistful smile playing across her pouty lips before they tighten and her spine stiffens slightly, belying the tension seeping into her as I approach. She looks about to bolt although she doesn’t move an inch, she only turns back to the view. My fists curl. I want her soft and open when she’s with me.

I stand beside her, taking in the view I’ve grown bored of, and try to see it afresh from her eyes. We stand like that for some time.

“Lisa’ s down for the count?” I ask.

“Oh yeah, just about tucked her in. I thought it might be an issue with all the ice cream but she was super exhausted; she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Are Zoey and Dan still due in tonight?”

“Yes.” I glance at my watch. “Flight lands in an hour or so.”

She nods her head, saying nothing.

“You were really good with Lisa,” I say.

“Thanks. She’s a sweet kid. I can’t believe she shaved off Coral’s eyebrow.”

“She likes you, trust me. She threw a babysitter’s purse over the rooftop terrace once. Said she wanted to see if it could fly. Hell of a headache trying to get it back. The babysitter quit too. Same day if I remember well.”

Brooke laughs incredulously. I’m shocked at how much I love the sound.

She turns back to the window. “You know, I’ve lived in this city my entire life, but I’ve never seen it from this vantage point. This is just… it’s magical.”

“You should see it at sunset from a helicopter.” It’s out of my mouth before I can fully process what I just said. I continue though. “Not just any helicopter. An open helicopter with your feet hanging out and the wind hitting your face.” I remember the last time I did that and wait for the flash of pain the memory brings. It doesn’t come.

“That would be incredible. Insane.” She takes a deep breath. “Well, I should go. Thanks for your help with Lisa.”

She slings her purse strap over her shoulder and makes to leave.

“Wait.” For the second time that day, I gently take her arm and bring her back to face me .

“I wanted to give you something.” I take the check out and hand it to her.

“What is it?” She looks at the check and then back at me.

“A tip. For doing amazing work with Lisa,” I say and hold it out, but pull back when she tries to take it, “on one condition. You go on a date with me.”

“What?” She seems confused. “What are you talking about?”

She takes the check away from me and stares for a few seconds before reacting.

“$289,000? That’s an oddly specific figure.” She looks at me blankly for what seems like an eternity, then I see the exact moment the fog clears and her eyes go wide as saucers.

“How did you know—why would you even? I-I don’t understand.”

“Take it,” I say.

“I can’t—I mean, you shouldn’t…” She shakes her head. “One date?”

I nod. “You’re welcome.”

She’s silent for a beat. “So let me get this straight,” she says in a strangely cool voice. “Because you somehow found out that my brother is in trouble, you now think you know my price and you can have me? I’m not a thing you can just acquire because you have all the money in the world, Xavier.”

“That’s not—”

“You had no right snooping around my life!” She cuts me off. “I don’t even know why you would do that. You insulted me yesterday and now you’re throwing money at me to what—sleep with you?”

“Hey,” I say softly to try to calm her. “You need the money, I need—”

“A slut?”

She interrupts me again and I take a calming breath.

“Look, Xavier, I have enough problems as it is. I don’t need some dumb rich boy who thinks he can have whatever he wants whenever he wants making me feel like I’m selling myself—”

Finally losing my patience, I back her into the window. “I think you’ve made it abundantly clear that I don’t need to pay to fuck you.”

She gasps. “You smug, arrogant, cocky—”

My mouth descends on hers in a hard kiss, my hand fisting in her glorious hair. She resists, pushing on my shoulders but my hand holds her in place while I continue to devour her. I slant my mouth over hers, deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding over the seam of her lips. Suddenly her arms find their way around my neck and her mouth opens under mine, allowing my tongue to slide across hers in languid licks. Her taste explodes on my tongue and I growl in triumph. Her answering moan radiates all the way down to my balls.

I tear my mouth away and we are both breathless. I kiss the throbbing pulse in her neck.

“Just hear me out. I’m not giving you the money for what you think. I just need you to be my date for a wedding in three weeks.”

“Why?” Her eyes are soft and dazed.

“Because I need a date.” Actually, I don’t need a date. But I can’t tell her the real reason why the idea of going to weddings makes me want to poke my eyes out.

“I thought you didn’t want to be seen in public with me?”

“I lied.”

“And what about the part about not being your type?” Brooke asks, still suspicious.

“That part is actually true,” I say with a rueful smile .

“What?” She shoves me away with surprising strength.

“Hear me out—”

She’s halfway to the door before she throws back, “You know, since you have all the money in the world, you shouldn’t have a problem buying yourself a date that’s more your type. I’d rather work my entire life to pay off this debt than spend any more time with you.”

She holds up the check, rips it into tiny pieces, and throws it in the air.

“The deal is still on the table if you change your mind.”

“Go fuck yourself.” She walks away.