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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.”
His smile peeked out like a tiny ray of sunshine through gray storm clouds. “Hey, if it’s good enough for Prince Rhys, it’s good enough for me. He likes sketching in his free time too.”
“Now you’re just making stuff up.” I couldn’t imagine the gorgeous but broody crown prince of Eldorra enjoying something as soft as drawing. He looked like he wrestled bears for fun.
“I swear. I read about it in an interview last year. Besides…” Xavier’s dimples deepened. “I said your hobbies are boring, not you. I don’t find a single thing about you boring.”
My heartbeat stumbled.
God, I wished he were an asshole. It would make things so much easier.
“Yes, well…” I cleared my throat and nudged a paper ball out of the way with the toe of my pump. “That doesn’t change the fact you need to leave your room sometime. I thought you’d—” I cut myself off before the worddied. “I thought you’d passed out in here,” I finished, inwardly wincing at the lame substitution.
“I like my room.” Xavier’s smile took on a devilish slant. “You’re welcome to join me. There’s plenty of space.”
Ah, there was the shameless flirt. I knew he was still lurking under there somewhere.
I marshaled my expression into some semblance of professional disapproval, but I didn’t get a chance to respond before a knock sounded on the door.
Its owner didn’t wait for a response; the door opened, revealing Eduardo’s dark suit and somber face.
My sarcastic reply withered, and Xavier’s smile dissolved into grim understanding. He turned to the easel and ripped his near-complete sketch off the canvas. It soon joined the rest of the drawings on the floor.
Acid ate at my stomach. We’d been getting somewhere, and now…
“Xavier. Sloane.” Eduardo’s voice was heavy. “It’s time.”
We didn’t need elaboration, and neither of us spoke as we followed him into the hall. I could practically hear the camera flashes outside; the vultures were circling, and it was only a matter of time before they landed.
We made it halfway before a light touch on my shoulder forced me to halt.
“Before we go in there…” Xavier swallowed, his eyes clouded with turmoil. “Thank you for checking on me.”
