I should’ve been embarrassed about breaking down over a goldfish, of
all things, but it’d been surprisingly cathartic, at least with Xavier. I suspected I would’ve felt differently had I opened the door and seen anyone else.
But I hadn’t, and he’d been here, and he’d stayed. Overnight.
That was already a big deal for me because I didn’t let random men in my personal space. But he wasn’t a random man; he was him, and the house felt so much more vibrant when he was there that I’d thrown caution to the wind and invited him over for the weekend.
That was right. I, Sloane Kensington, had willingly invited someone to stay—count them—one, two, three nights with me, and I didn’t dread it.
Who even am I?
In keeping with the mushy-sentimental-aliens-abducted-my-body theme, I also tried to play Martha Stewart on Friday night. The results were…mixed.
“Have you ever baked before?” Xavier leaned against the doorframe and arched an eyebrow at my attempt to make chocolate chip cookies while a batch of cupcakes baked in the oven. Amusement played in his gaze, along with a hint of concern.
I’d barely used my appliances before tonight. I usually ate out or ordered in; the kitchen was there for show and the occasional cup of coffee.
“No, but I’m a fast learner.” I frowned at the recipe I’d printed out.
Cream together butter and sugars. What the hell did that mean? Was I supposed to stir the ingredients so they were mixed? If so, why didn’t the writer say stir instead of the maddeningly vague cream?
“Are you?” Xavier sounded skeptical, which I didn’t appreciate.
“Yes.” Fuck it. I was stirring. You couldn’t go wrong with a good stir. “Not that I don’t believe you, darling, but your cupcakes are burning.”
The wail of the smoke alarm drowned out the last piece of his sentence, and an acrid smell filled my nostrils.
“Shit!” I spun in time to see smoke billowing from the oven. I opened the door and coughed as a cloud of pale gray fumes enveloped me.
One burned hand, one opened window, and several fans of a magazine later, the alarm cut off, plunging us into silence.
We stared at the tray of blackened cupcakes on the table.
Xavier dropped the magazine he’d used to fan the smoke into the recycling bin. “Crumble & Bake delivers,” he said carefully. “Perhaps we should order in.”
My shoulders slumped. “I guess we should.”
Half an hour later, we curled up on my couch with a Nate Reynolds movie and a box of Crumble & Bake’s cupcakes. I’d abandoned my cookie batter in the kitchen, which was for the best, though I wasn’t happy about it. “I wanted to try something new,” I grumbled. “Baking is an essential
life skill.”
I was too embarrassed to admit I’d been trying to impress him. It was so stupid and backward, the notion that a woman had to be good in the kitchen. Hello, wasn’t that what food delivery was for? But I liked Xavier so much, and baking had seemed like a nice, domestic activity to add some life into the apartment.
I tried not to look at the side table where The Fish used to reside. I’d tossed the aquarium days ago, but I still felt its absence. “You know what else is an essential life skill? Living,” Xavier teased. “I’m concerned any future baking attempts will result in your kitchen burning down.”
“Very funny.” I tossed a balled-up napkin at him. “Next time, you try to bake.”
“I’m good. I know where my talents lie, and it’s not in the kitchen.” His arm rested on the back of the couch, his fingertips grazing my shoulder. “But you don’t need to cook for me, Luna. I’m happy ordering in.”
“Because restaurants do it better?”
“Well, yeah.” He laughed when I knocked my knee against his in reproach, but a smile broke through my disgruntlement.
If I put enough time and effort in, I was positive I’d kick baking’s ass. There was no way a little sugar and flour could beat me, but I didn’t like baking, and I didn’t have to be good at everything (even though I could be if I wanted).
“In better news, Perry’s social media accounts got banned,” I said as Nate Reynolds engaged in a shoot-out with a group of mercenaries onscreen. Xavier always watched rom-coms with me, so I suffered through the action thriller for him. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. It was actually pretty good, and Nate was delicious eye candy.
Xavier’s eyebrows shot up again, this time in surprise. “When did that happen? They were working last night.”
“Less than an hour ago, right before the smoke alarm went off,” I said. “I saw Isa’s text on my lock screen.”
I’d eagerly googled the story while Xavier paid the delivery guy. After Soraya posted her denial video earlier this week, her fans had swarmed Perry’s accounts with vicious determination and successfully gotten all of his social media banned. Apparently, the platforms had denied his appeals,
and he’d already uploaded a new blog post begging for help reinstating his accounts.
It wouldn’t make my father rehire Rhea or help me see Pen, but it was deeply satisfying.
“So revenge has been served,” Xavier said.
“Not yet. There’s still the matter of his blog.” I tapped my phone. “A little birdie told me Bryce is suing him for libel and the emotional distress it caused in his marriage.”
“Plenty of people have sued him for libel before. It’s never stuck.”
“This time is different. There’s proof Perry acted with reckless disregard and published that post without verifying any of the ‘facts.’”
“Perry Wilson in court. That would be a sight to see,” Xavier drawled. “I’m surprised he was foolish enough to do that. Say what you will about the man, but he’s usually more careful about these things.”
I shrugged. “Man’s ego is always his downfall.” A tiny smile crept across my mouth. “Plus I may have planted a rumor that an upstart blog was about to scoop him on the scandal of the year.”
Besides his general mean-spiritedness, Perry was famous for his paranoia over someone usurping his throne.
“His advertisers are already spooked,” I added. “If this libel suit has legs, which I think it does, there’ll be an exodus, which means he’ll need money, which means…”
“It’ll be primed for a takeover,” Xavier finished. “Kai Young?”
“He emailed me yesterday. He said he’s open to it if the price and conditions are right.” I didn’t doubt Kai’s ability to squeeze the best deal out of Perry’s soon-to-be-dying blog.
“So you’ll be rid of Perry Wilson the man, and you’ll ensure his only remaining platform will be in friendlier hands.” Xavier whistled. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“I don’t do stuff like this often, but he deserves it,” I said. It wasn’t about just me or Xavier; it was about the entire culture Perry had propagated. Gossip and rumors had always existed, but he’d taken them to a new nasty, underhanded level.
And yeah, okay, it was also a little personal. My blood boiled every time I thought about his blog post on Pen. Attacking adults was one thing; dragging a child into it was another.
“If I had access to my inheritance, I’d buy it out and save you the trouble,” Xavier said. “I’ve always wanted a little slice of the internet kingdom.”
I laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but the thought of you running a news blog is terrifying.”
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“I think you can do it too well.” Except instead of celebrity news, he’d probably use it to document his adventures, many of which would land him squarely in the middle of the press’s crosshairs.
I tore off a piece of cupcake, my mind churning. If I had access to my full inheritance…
“If I ask you a question, will you answer truthfully?” I asked.
Xavier glanced at me, then grimaced and paused the movie. “Uh-oh.
Nothing good ever comes after that opening.”
“It’s nothing bad,” I reassured him. “I’m just curious. Why do you want your inheritance so badly? It can’t be about just the money.”
At first glance, it seemed obvious why someone would want billions of dollars. But Xavier had his hang-ups about his father’s money, and while he blew through cash the way certain celebrities blew through cocaine, he didn’t strike me as someone who’d sit on that much money simply to have it.
“Why not?” he asked lightly. “Maybe I’m a greedy bastard, plain and simple.”
I merely looked at him without saying anything, and after a long, tense silence, his irreverence dissolved into a sigh.
“I’m giving half of it to charity.”
I almost choked on my cake. That wasn’t what I’d expected.
At all.
“Not that I don’t think giving to charity is admirable, but isn’t that exactly what your father’s will stipulates will happen to the money if you don’t pull off this CEO thing?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“So why…” My question trailed off at Xavier’s smirk. My eyes narrowed and drifted to the tattoo of the Castillos’ rival family’s crest on his bicep. It represented the duality of Xavier: his stubbornness and resentment, but also his dedication and passion. He was the type of person who’d ink a permanent symbol of his war against his father on his body, and I suddenly knew exactly what the catch was. “You’re donating to charities your father hated, aren’t you?”
His smirk widened into a grin. “I wouldn’t say he hated the charities themselves,” he said. “But he certainly wouldn’t have approved of donating to some of their causes.”
He handed me his phone. The Notes app was open, and I scrolled through the list of charities he’d put together. Most of them focused on civil and human rights, with a few arts and music causes thrown in. I’d bet my apartment those were for his mom.
She loved art, so she donated a lot of money and time to local galleries.
I also flashed back to the organizations listed in Alberto’s will. All of them had been business or commerce oriented.
I reached the last name on the list and laughed out loud. “The Yale endowment fund?”
“My father was a Harvard guy; he hated Yale with a passion. School rivalry and all that.” Xavier’s dimples played peekaboo. “I’ll make sure he
gets a nice library on campus.”
“You’re evil but genius.” I handed his phone back, still laughing. “You’re an evil genius.”
“Thank you. I’ve always aspired to be both those things. Evildoers have way more fun, and geniuses are, well, geniuses.” Xavier pocketed his phone. “To be fair, I would’ve donated to those causes anyway. The fact my father would’ve disapproved of ninety percent of them is the cherry on top.”
I lifted my half eaten cupcake. “To revenge.”
“To revenge.” He tapped his chocolate against my lemon raspberry. He chewed and swallowed before adding, “Don’t get me wrong though. I’m definitely keeping some of the money. I like my cars and five-star hotels.”
“You mean you like trashing five-star hotels.”
Xavier pointedly ignored my allusion to his birthday weekend in Miami. “But I don’t need all of it. It’s more than any reasonable person could spend in a lifetime.” His expression turned pensive. “Once I get the club off the ground, I’ll make my own money, and I won’t have to rely on his. It’ll be a clean break, once and for all.”
He didn’t mention Eduardo’s theory about the will’s loophole, and I didn’t bring it up.
“You’ll succeed,” I said simply.
Xavier’s answering smile was pure warmth, and later that night, when we lay sweaty and sated in each other’s arms, I still felt the brush of it against my skin.
For the first time since The Fish died, I fell into a dreamless sleep.
