A tingle of sudden awareness cascaded down my spine.
I had no idea why I was noticing these things about Xavier, but from a purely physical point of view, he was—
Stop. Get a grip. I caught myself before my thoughts wandered further down inappropriate paths. Clearly, I’d been cooped up in the mansion for too long if I was drawn in by his arms, of all things.
I was here to check on him, not ogle him.
“You have a habit of breaking into my bedroom, Luna,” he said without taking his eyes off the canvas. “Let’s hear it.”
I forced my mind off the light hum of electricity in my veins and walked toward him. My heels echoed against the polished wooden floors, the sound a welcome reprieve from…other distractions.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I came up beside him as he sketched a set of stools around a curved counter. It wasn’t Picasso, but it was better than anything I could’ve done. Plus, based on the notes he’d scribbled in the top left corner, he wasn’t aiming for artistic expression so much as brainstorming.
Considerations: bar depth/height, backbar space
Flex space for summer/winter
Mark high-traffic areas
My heart stuttered beneath twin blows of realization and surprise.
It wasn’t a living room sketch. It was a blueprint for a bar.
“I mean the scolding.” Xavier shaded in one of the stools, his voice flat and absent of its usual irreverence. “Tell me how I’m supposed to be spending time with my father and making amends instead of shirking my duties. Or how I should be preparing to take over the household after he passes and how I’m heartless for not caring whether he lives or dies.” He moved on to the backbar space of the sketch. “You wouldn’t be the first or last to say those things.”
I should’ve. In any other situation, I would’ve, but something held me back.
It wasn’t my job to police how other people processed their grief—or lack of it—and Xavier’s moodiness bothered me more than I cared to admit.
I hadn’t realized how accustomed I was to his annoying but familiar sunshine optimism until its warmth was gone.
“You never told me you were a designer,” I said, deliberately bypassing the topics he’d mentioned.
His hand paused for the briefest moment before he resumed drawing. “I’m not. This is just something I do to pass the time.”
I picked up a discarded paper ball from the ground and unfolded it. It was a variation of the current sketch. So was the next one I picked up and the one after that. “Interesting. Because to me, it looks like you’re trying to perfect a design.”
Xavier’s jaw tightened. “Is there a reason you broke into my room again, or are you really that bored?”
“I wanted to see how you’re doing.” The answer slipped out without thought, but it was true.
Despite his faults, Xavier was human. An infuriating one, yes, but he wasn’t malicious or mean-spirited, and there was more to him than the carefree image he portrayed to the world.
Besides, I of all people understood the complexities of a fraught paternal relationship. I could only imagine his struggle with reconciling his personal feelings toward his father and the prospect of losing the only parent he had left.
Xavier finally glanced at me. “Are my ears deceiving me? Is Sloane Kensington checking in on me of her own free will?” A hint of teasing slipped into his tone and restored a sense of normalcy.
Relief pushed the weight off my shoulders. I could deal with an uncooperative Xavier. I didn’t know how to deal with a brooding one.
“Don’t push it.” My voice cooled, but it lacked bite. “I merely want to ensure you don’t do anything stupid. It’s my job.”
Xavier’s eyes lingered on mine for a moment, making my stomach twist in the strangest way, before he returned to the canvas. “I thought your job was dealing with the vultures.”
The vultures, aka the media.
News of Alberto’s failing health had leaked after someone spotted the priest entering the compound, and there were currently a dozen reporters camped out in front of the gates as we spoke.
So far, I’d held them at bay, but if Alberto died, it would be a feeding frenzy, especially since he had no clear heir. Eduardo was an interim CEO, and Xavier had washed his hands of company obligations. That left the fate of the country’s largest private corporation up in the air. It would dominate headlines for weeks, if not months.
Luckily, I’d been planning for that day since Alberto received his cancer diagnosis, so I wasn’t too worried.
“They’re handled,” I said. “Which brings me back to this.” I inclined my head toward the easel. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” Xavier added details to a banquette. “I’ve come to terms with the fact we won’t mend our relationship before he passes. Not everyone gets closure. Sometimes, the wounds run too deep, and the end of the road looks just as shitty as the miles that came before it.”
He placed his pencil on the easel and faced me again. Resignation and anger sculpted his mouth into a humorless smile. “Does that answer your question?” he asked.
“It does.” I was still holding the sketches I’d picked up earlier. I crumpled them and dropped them back on the ground. “But I have a more important question for you.”
His brows formed questioning arches.
“Why a bar?” I purposely changed the topic. Xavier was okay. Otherwise, he would’ve ignored me or deflected instead of giving a straightforward answer.
We’d discussed our families at length the past few days. We didn’t need to rehash it now that I knew he wasn’t going to spiral into an Alberto-induced depression.
We had shitty fathers whom we’d never forgive. End of story. “The sketch,” I clarified, nodding at the easel. How had I not known about his hobby when we’d worked together for so long? Granted, most of our communication had been over text and email until recently, but still. There was a whole other side to him that I found infuriatingly fascinating. “I know it’s your natural habitat, but most people start with a house. Maybe a nice landscape.” “Landscapes are boring, and I don’t care much for home design.” Xavier shrugged. “I go to enough bars that I can easily spot the flaws in each one. I thought it’d be fun to try and design the perfect one.”
I wrinkled my nose. “And you say I’m boring.”
