I hated to admit it, but the day had helped. I even stopped worrying about my neglected inbox halfway through ignoring Xavier while we floated in a lavender-scented tub together.

Neither of us brought up anything substantial after our massage talk, but I kept thinking about what he’d said.

I’m good at doing nothing, so I stick to it. It’s better than fucking things up.

Xavier was unmotivated, but he wasn’t dumb. If he tried, he could probably run circles around the people sitting in the Castillo Group’s boardroom. Plus, he had an ample cushion of money and connections.

Why would he be so afraid of screwing up that he didn’t try? I cast a sideways glance at him. He didn’t make any quips on our walk back to the villa, but my concern over his silence gave way to horror when we reached our home for the week. “What…?” My mouth parted as I stared at the sprawling building.

When we left that morning, it’d been a peaceful oasis of pale stone and floor-to-ceiling windows. Now, it resembled a frat house. Spanish music blasted from deep within the interior, and the scent of booze overpowered the wildflowers surrounding the entrance.

A pretty brunette in a bikini raced through the half-open door and shrieked as a Chris Hemsworth lookalike doused her in champagne. Squeals and laughter echoed from deeper in the villa, followed by the splash of someone jumping into the pool.

“Xavi! There you are!” the Hemsworth lookalike called out. “Hope you don’t mind that we started the party without you.”

I wheeled around and glared at Xavier.

“I forgot to mention my friends are joining us.” He had the grace to look embarrassed. “One of them just broke up with his girlfriend. We’re trying to make him feel better.”

Was he freaking kidding me?

“He can feel better in his own villa. This is a shared space.” I pointed at the building and tried to breathe through the bubbling anger in my chest. “I didn’t consent to having a bunch of strangers overrun my hotel room for the week. Shut. It. Down.”

“I would, but my friends are, uh, difficult to dislodge once they’ve settled into a party.” Xavier shrugged. “It’d be a waste of energy. Trust me.”

The knots my massage therapist spent ninety minutes kneading out returned with a vengeance.

“Since they’re your friends, that sounds like a you problem.” A headache hammered at the sides of my skull. “I swear to God, Xavier, if they’re not out of here in the next fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police and having them arrested for trespassing.”

“Don’t think that’ll fly. One of them is the president’s niece.” Xavier paused. “President of Spain,” he clarified.

“Then the president can come here and bail her out.” I jabbed a finger at his chest, so pissed I could barely see straight. “This wasn’t what I agreed to when we made our deal. Figure out a way to fix this, or I’m leaving on the next flight out.”

His insouciance fell away, replaced by what looked like true regret. “Shit, I’m sorry, Luna. I honestly forgot that…” He glanced at the villa. “Look, I’ll make you a new deal.”

“No.”

Xavier pressed on, undeterred. “Let them stay today. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s impossible to move them after they get the party going. I already see two people passed out in the hall.” A quick peek confirmed his statement. “In return, I promise not to throw another party for the next month unless you’ve approved it.”

“That’s not a good deal,” I said flatly. He must take me for a naïve newborn.

“Two months.”

“No.”

“Three months. Come on,” he coaxed. “Think of how much easier your job would be if you didn’t have to worry about me setting a bar on fire or getting shut down by the cops.”

I pursed my lips. Xavier’s parties tended to spiral out of control. All the bad press he’d gotten in the past was linked to one of his infamous soirées; if I could prevent him from hosting them in the first place, that’d be a load off my plate.

“No unapproved parties for six months,” I said, making up my mind. Giving up one afternoon was worth months of potential peace and quiet down the road—hopefully. “We’re putting it in writing, and your friends have to be out by midnight tonight.”

“Six months? Are you fucking kid—” Xavier’s mouth snapped shut when I narrowed my eyes. “Fine,” he muttered. “You have a deal.”

“Good.” I spun back around toward the villa and prayed I hadn’t just made a huge mistake. “I can’t believe you invited me on a heartbreak trip with your friends.”

“Hey, a trip can serve multiple purposes. The more the merrier!” he called after me as I stormed inside.

Prickles crawled over my skin at the cushions littering the floor and the half-empty alcohol bottles crowding every available surface. The knickknacks I’d reorganized to geometric perfection that morning had been knocked askew, and scantily clad men and women were…

Oh God. I did not need to see that.

I averted my eyes from the couple on the couch and zeroed in on a familiar face. “Luca?”

Luca Russo blinked at me from the corner, his surprise mirroring my own. “Sloane? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Luca was my best friend Vivian’s brother-in-law. The second son of the massive Russo luxury goods fortune, he’d been a mainstay in Xavier’s circle until he cleaned up his act a few years ago, stopped partying, and started working for his family’s company. Apparently, he’d fallen off the wagon again.

“I’m here to mend my broken heart.” He slumped dramatically in his armchair. “Leaf and I broke up. She moved to a goat farm in Tennessee.”

“Isn’t she vegan?”

“She’s there to save the goats.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know Luca or Leaf well enough to muster more than an inkling of sympathy. Besides, I’d never liked his ex-girlfriend’s holier-than-thou, New Age hippie vibes. “How tragic.”

Now the poor goats had to put up with her savior complex. “S’okay. That’s why I’m here. To feel better.” He took a swig of beer. “Oh, hey, Xavi.”

Xavier came up beside me. “I forgot you know each other.” There was a strange note in his voice, but when I glanced at him, he turned away.

“Here.” He handed me an unopened bottle from a nearby table. “I have a feeling you’re going to need this.”

I couldn’t do it anymore.

After I rejected Xavier’s beer, made him a hastily drawn-up contract for our latest deal, locked myself in my room, read about the sixth principle of crisis communications, and confirmed with the resort and every other resort within a five-mile radius that there were no available rooms for the night, I gave up trying to pretend Xavier and Friends didn’t exist.

I wanted to stay in my room, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what Xavier said during our massage.

So you like to be needed.

Who didn’t like to be needed? Being needed meant we were good at and good for something. People didn’t leave those they needed. It wasn’t the same as being loved, but it was better than nothing.

There was a lot to unpack there, but since I had no desire to do that, I finally wandered outside and joined the party, if only so I didn’t have to be alone with my thoughts.

The festivities had migrated from our living room to the private beach after sunset, and the bonfire made it easy for me to locate the heart of the party. Xavier’s eyebrows shot up when he saw me, but he didn’t stop me from downing my first, second, or third glass of sangria.