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“Tell that to security,” Javier quipped as he picked up his wineglass. “You might have a discretion problem. I hope that doesn’t bleed over to your newest valet.”
“Juliet Gaines? Why would it?” Xavier asked, although he already knew it could be a problem. He wasn’t a fool and tended not to mix business with pleasure. It always got messy, and it always led to disaster. He’d paid for that once already.
Still, she was a curvy strawberry blonde with creamy skin and big, haunting doe eyes. He had a weakness for women with reddish hair, always had, and Jules hit off every item on his checklist. God, maybe Estelle had sent her to him as a test of his maturity.
I’m going to lose.
Keeping the smile planted on his face, he added, “I don’t fraternize with the help like
that.”
“I don’t know, brother. A redhead—”
“Strawberry blonde, actually.”
“I saw her today as she was leaving for home from your apartment. She’s definitely your type, and let’s be honest, you have a tendency sometimes to think with any part of your body that isn’t your big head.”
Xavier set his knife down. His hand throbbed from the grip he’d held it in, and he probably shouldn’t have access to sharp things when his younger brother was needling him so. “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”
“Security, Xav. We had to call security. You’re over thirty, brother. You have to grow up sometime.”
“I work twelve-hour days and have to live out of a suitcase for a month to settle a labor dispute. I’m more than grown. I’m not that guy who fucked up five years ago. You keep seeing him, but I’m not like that. I had one girl who pried into my business this morning. That’s all.”
Javier nodded and stood, letting his linen napkin fall to the tabletop. “Well, if you’re really an adult, you’ll have no trouble making sure you think with the right head while in Spain. Please, hermano, think through this and don’t have sex with the valet. I still wish Estelle had picked Larry instead. He’s fifty and has two grandchildren.”
“I’m not some slobbering caveman. I’ll be fine, Javier. Just see the company’s in one piece when I come back.”
His brother shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. Seriously, would it kill him to smile once in a while? “Oh, it will be. Night, brother.”
Xavier sighed and drained his glass of red wine, relishing the way the liquid coated his throat. “Glad we had this talk.”
Standing up, he carried his plates to the sink. Jules would get it in the morning before they headed out for the airport at Dulles and his private jet. The flight would be long, and he had enough paperwork to go over to sink a flotilla. Rest was in order.
If only he could get his mind off a certain redhead.
***
“You seem nervous,” he said, looking up from his papers.
Those soft brown eyes looked back at him through black-framed glasses, something that reminded him a little of the receptionist from Ghostbusters, but Jules was far hotter than Jeanine had ever been.
She rubbed her hands on the fabric of her khakis. He appreciated she was trying to wear something business casual. Well, the businessman in him did. The regular guy wished she’d worn denim. Jeans would hug her ample curves just right. Then again, it was better for their continued professional relationship and his brother’s blood pressure if Xavier never saw Jules in jeans. His newest valet was definitely more of a challenge and temptation than Larry would have been.
A blessing and a curse.
“I don’t like flying. It makes me nervous. I was on a flight once to California for my grandmother’s funeral. I was seventeen and it was struck on the wing by lightning. It still made it to the destination, but I’d never been more scared in my life. I thought I was going to fall out of the sky!”
“But you didn’t,” he countered, setting a hand over hers on the armrest. Her hand was shaking so badly that Xavier wanted to do anything to put her at ease. He’d like to say that he’d do that for any employee, but he couldn’t exactly see himself covering Larry or even Estelle’s hand like this. “You made it, and we only have four more hours to Barcelona. You’re already more than halfway there.”
“And I don’t think I can make it,” she said, turning pale and reaching with her other hand for a bottle of water.
He arched an eyebrow at her wryly. “I’m not a dad driving a minivan on a summer vacation trip. We can’t exactly just turn this plane around. Besides, you’ll get to Barcelona faster than you will to DC.”
She gulped down the water and regarded him with eyes as large as plates. “Then I need something to keep me distracted.”
“I can have a movie put on. I also have an e-book reader if you’d like.”
“No, I don’t think that’s enough. I need to be totally immersed in something to block all the stimuli out.”
