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However, I should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last.
“New terms,” he said when we climbed into the back seat of a cab. “You can’t be such a buzzkill when we’re on vacation.”
“Then don’t take me with you.” I answered a work email about a potential new client without looking up. It was still business hours in New York.
“Nice try. For someone who’s stalking me, you don’t seem to like my company much.” He placed a hand on his chest with a mock-wounded look. “It hurts my soul. Truly.”
“What would hurt more is getting cut off.”
Xavier was set to inherit billions of dollars if and when his father died. However, his current income came from an extravagant annual allowance that would immediately cease if he violated one of the two terms: 1) He must retain me as his publicist, and 2) He couldn’t do anything that damaged the family reputation.
There was a three strikes policy for the second condition, and somehow, I was in charge of determining whether Xavier was in compliance. He’d raised holy hell when he first found out about it, but he’d settled into grudging acceptance since.
I didn’t abuse my power. However, I wasthisclose to adding a second strike to his record (the first had been his twenty-ninth birthday in Miami).
“Maybe,” Xavier said, sounding unconcerned. “Regardless, you can’t do that on vacation.” He nodded at my phone.
“What, check my emails?”
“Exactly. A vacation isn’t a vacation if you’re working the entire time.”
I scoffed. “If you think I’m spending an entire week without checking my emails, you’re more delusional than I thought. I run a business, Xavier, and if you want me in Spain, then you’ll agree to my terms.”
“I see.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I never took you for a liar, Sloane. Our trip hasn’t even started, and you’re already going back on your word.”
He might as well have slapped me in the face. “Excuse me?”
I’d been called many things in my life, but I’d never once been called a liar. Sure, I might’ve bent the truth at times—which publicist worth their salt didn’t?—but when it came to promises, I kept mine. Always.
That was one of the reasons I’d agreed to this stupid bargain with Xavier in the first place. I’d promised Pen I’d see her tonight, and the only way I could do that was by giving in to his demands.
“No work, just play,” he said. “I distinctly remember that being one of the terms when you agreed to them. Checking emails is considered work, which means you’d be reneging on your promise.”
Dammit, he was right.Again.I’d somehow blocked out that condition of our deal, if only because it was so absurd. I couldn’t ignore my messages for a week, but I couldn’t go back on my word, either.
“I propose an amendment,” I said tightly. “I can check mypersonalemails at any time, and I can check my work ones if all I do is delegate them to my team.”
Xavier’s eyes narrowed. Several beats passed before his face relaxed into a smile again. “Amendment accepted. Now—”
“Ahem.” The driver cut him off before he could finish his sentence. Apparently, he’d tired of our conversation “Where to?” he asked pointedly.
Xavier and I answered at the same time. “Claridge’s.”
“Stansted Airport.”
“You promised me a vacation,” Xavier said when I stared at him. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”
“We literally arrived in London hours ago, and we don’t leave for Spain until tomorrow.”
That much travel in one day made me want to die. “Check your watch. It’s five past midnight.”
It was, indeed, five past midnight. I just kept taking losses tonight.
Note to self: in the future, specify a departure time and not just a departure day.
“My luggage is at my hotel. I need to get it,” I said, trying to stall.
“Already taken care of.” He held up his phone. “I just messaged my hotel butler. Our luggage will be waiting for us on the jet when we arrive.”
