by Lily Zante
“This isn’t happening.”
“Why not?” She slapped her palms flat against his chest. Then, stepping back in surprise, “Who is she?”
He shook his head. “There isn’t anyone.”
“You liar. You liar!” her voice turned high, almost like a shriek.
“There isn’t,” he insisted. “This guy, the producer, is it the same guy who wanted you to wear a bikini to the interview?”
“As if you care.”
“I do. Was it?”
“No. That’s a different guy. And I’m on the shortlist, thanks for asking.”
He swiped his hands through his hair, then intertwined them, resting then palms around the back of his head. Gisele’s gaze swooped to his arms, before she ran her gaze all over him.
“You’re still going ahead with it, even now, with all these scandals coming out of Hollywood?”
“Sometimes you have to do stuff to get what you want.”
“How far would you go?”
“As far as I have to.”
He frowned, thinking how little he knew her. “I’m busy, Gisele. I have to get something ready for an important meeting.”
She stared at his body again, the way she used to, her gaze moving over him, slow and hungry. “You sure you don’t want to … ?”
“I’m sure.”
She shrugged, and walked towards the door, and left.
There were days when he was sure his dick couldn’t handle such a prolonged absence from sex.
Chapter 24
She hadn’t heard from Xavier, and he hadn’t sent her any more work.
Izzy wondered what was going on. She couldn’t let too many days go by empty, and with things starting to slow down for Thanksgiving and Christmas, she was extra vigilant about her work drying up on all fronts. All of her jobs kept the wheels turning, and she couldn’t afford for Xavier to slack off with his side of the deal.
It occurred to her that he was a little disorganized, that he didn’t always have clear timelines in place, and she didn’t like that—having fluid boundaries.
She had started to use the MacBook in earnest, because it was faster, and easier, and it now made her own laptop seem so painfully outdated in comparison. And it was loaded with the latest software. She’d even started taking it to college with her.
A few days before the Thanksgiving weekend, she sent Xavier an email, and when he didn’t reply, she called him.
“Hello.” He sounded gruff, short. Not like his usual self.
“You haven’t sent me any work.”
A sound, something like a grunt, came over the phone. “Didn’t I?” he groaned again, as if it was a chore for him to find her something to do.
“Do you have anything?” She was all caught up with her studies. “I’ve got lots of free time right now and I can do the big stuff, if you have anything that needs doing.” And she wasn’t going home for Thanksgiving this year, either.
“Let me think about it.”
“Something wrong? You sound stressed.”
“I’m kind of busy right now. I’m not going to be able to give you anything to do until after Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, really?” That didn’t sound good. “I thought you had lots of paperwork for me to go through?”
“I can’t do it right now.”
She thought he sounded distracted, or maybe his assistant had returned and he wasn’t telling her. “Has your VA come back?”
“No. Why do you say that?”
“It’s just that you said before that you had lots of work for me.”
“I hadn’t counted on you being so fast.”
“I can’t help it. I’m efficient.”
“I’d noticed.”
“So, can you give me some more? Things have quietened down for me on all fronts.”
“I’m busy, Laronde. I swear I’ll sort something out for you but right now I’ve got papers everywhere and my office is a shitstorm. I can’t even think straight.”
“I could help you tidy up—if its paperwork and admin things.” Anything for a few extra hours of paid work.
She needed the money and she didn’t want to be in a situation where she started the New Year and had no work. Savannah might change her mind and might not want her back ever, and Xavier could say he didn’t need her anymore. And where would that leave her?
He fell silent, which made her think he was thinking about it.
“In that case, hell, yeah. If you want, you can come over and tidy up my office. But I’m going to be here, because I work from home.”
“Duh. I know that. You already told me.”
“I’m just reminding you because earlier you seemed happy that you wouldn’t have to be around me.”
“I trust you now.”
“You didn’t trust me before?”
“I didn’t know you. You had a reputation.”
“There’s nothing to it. It’s all conjecture.”
“I’m not so sure.”
He let out a long breath. “Why is it never possible to have a normal conversation with you?”
“We are having a normal conversation.” But she knew what he meant. It was true. They always seemed to be bickering.
“Come over when you’re ready. I’m in all day.”
An hour later, she buzzed up to his apartment. He was in a gray hoodie and lounge pants and had bare feet. It caught her off guard, because she was so used to seeing him dressed up, even in casual jeans and a t-shirt, they would be designer jeans and designer t-shirts. And she felt odd staring at his bare feet, as if it gave her a personal and more intimate insight into him.
“I don’t wear a suit to work,” he said, maybe because he caught her looking, maybe because her gaze lingered too long.
“It must be a perk of the job, being able to wear what you want.”
“It is. Do you want a drink? Something warm? Coffee, tea? Something else?”
“No, thanks.”
“College winding down now?”
“It’s like a ghost town. People are starting to go home for the long weekend.”
“When are you leaving?” he asked, his arms folded across his chest, the draw string from his hoodie hanging down over his chest.
“I’m not going home for Thanksgiving.”
He looked perplexed. “You’re not? I thought all starving students rushed home for Thanksgiving.”
Not this one. She couldn’t afford to travel home for Thanksgiving and had decided to go just the once at Christmas. It made sense with it being a longer break then. “I’ll go home for Christmas.” She didn’t need to explain to someone like him why she could only pick one time of year to go home.
“Where’s home?”
“Cleaver. It’s a small town near Pittsburgh.”
“It probably doesn’t take too long to fly back?”
“I guess not.” Not that she was flying. For her it was 9 hour train journey. “Cara’s gone home.”
“She has?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“So it’s just you at home?”
“Yes.” She smiled, letting him know she was okay about it, and that she didn’t want that pitiful look from him.
“How’s her ankle?”
“Fine, back to normal now.”
“Good. Are you girls planning on going to any more women’s marches?”
“If they have some more, then sure.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
“Why don’t you show me this messy office of yours?” she asked.
“Follow me.”
She followed him into his office and examined his workplace. “You’re right.” She surveyed the carpet of paper and books, and magazines all over the floor. They weren’t thrown haphazardly; there seemed to be some order, but it was messy. “It is a mess.”
“I’ve got stuff I need to get done today. It wasn’t this messy a few days ago, I promise.”
She cast her eyes all over it. It wasn’
t going to be more than a few hours work. But if she could make herself useful, she could wrangle a few more hours of work out of him.
“Show me what you want me to do.”
~ ~ ~
While Izzy tidied up his office, he moved his laptop to a far corner of the kitchen and worked there.
There was much to be said for having virtual assistants take care of things, but nothing beat having someone come in and look after the paperwork the way it needed to be. He was often so busy, he didn’t have time to properly do it and his businesses were suffering for it. Having her be here wasn’t such a bad thing.
A couple of hours had passed, and she was still tidying up, filing away and archiving his paperwork.
He ordered a vegetarian takeout from NYB, the place he knew she’d liked food from the last time. He ordered it without asking her, because he didn’t want to go through the back and forth of asking her if she was hungry, having her say no, even though he knew the chances were she probably was. A feeling in his gut told him that she probably hadn’t gone home because she probably couldn’t afford it.
“I had lunch,” she said, when he told her to come into the kitchen because he’d ordered some food in.
“That was hours ago.” He beckoned for her to sit down.
“Aren’t you having anything?”
Was that disappointment he heard in her voice? This was working—this new way of not pursuing her so doggedly. “I’ve got to scan some documents through,” he said. “You start, and I’ll be back.”
He rushed into his office and saw the newly transformed neat and tidy office space.
“Nice,” he mumbled to himself. She’d done a great job. He felt as if he could breathe again.
Chapter 25
He’d ordered her the halloumi and mushroom burger as well as a few other dishes. Salt and pepper edamame and crispy vegetables in tempura.
When she was halfway through the burger and Xavier still hadn’t come back, she went looking for him. He was at his desk, working.
“You look harassed,” she commented. And he did, compared to the flirtatious guy she had come to be wary of.
“I wouldn’t say I’m harassed.” He let out a sigh, short, and sharp, as if annoyed. “But I hate paperwork.” He seemed a little out of his depth, as if he didn’t belong in his office, in his lounge pants and hoodie, taking some papers off his desk, then shuffling them into order. His table was still a god awful mess. He’d cautioned her against tidying it up, and she’d left it, even though she was sorely tempted to make everything neat and tidy on it.
“I have stuff to get done, an important meeting to get ready for. Why don’t you go and eat?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“I don’t want anything. I ordered it for you.”
“Just for me?” She felt guilty, and happy, at the same time. “That’s a lot of food for one person. Just come and have something.”
“It’s too healthy for me.”
“Maybe you should give it a try,” she suggested.
“Yeah.” He seemed distracted, as he scanned a few more sheets in, and she sensed she was being a burden.
“Okay. More for me.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t even look up.
She walked back to the kitchen. Why waste good food? It had been thoughtful of him—ordering take out from that burger place they’d gone to with Jacob’s grandparents.
Sitting alone at the table, she filled her plate up and ate alone. A short while later, when she had nearly finished, Xavier joined her, taking a seat opposite.
“What?” he asked, when he caught her looking at him.
“I’m not used to seeing you looking hassled.”
“Believe it or not, I work, and I have pressures like everybody else.”
“I’m beginning to see that. You’re always such a party animal and Tobias seems so serious. It’s hard to think that you’re both brothers.”
“My brother’s always been the moody, broody type. Miserable, is what I’d call it, but women seem to think he’s intense and all that shit.”
She shifted on the stool, noting that he seemed a little tense.
“I don’t mean to say that you’re not serious about your work. I’m sure you are.”
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t smiling when he said it, and the air seemed to chill and turn sour. She wasn’t prepared for him not to be able to take a joke especially when their relationship seemed to be built on ribbing one another.
“Are you feeling sorry for yourself today, Stone?” she asked, hoping to resurrect the type of conversation they usually had. She managed a no-hard-feelings smile because she didn’t want to leave him in a miserable mood—not after he had been thoughtful enough to order her a takeout that he himself hadn’t touched.
“You’ve caught me on a bad day, otherwise I’d match you, sarcastic word for word.” He dipped his hand into the takeout box and pulled out a sweet potato chip.
“Anything I can do to help?” If she could get a few more hours of paid work from him, especially now that she was here, it would be a good thing. Besides, she’d only be returning home to an empty apartment.
“I’m putting together a report for an investor. I have all the data, and I need to resize all my charts, and shit. He needs it a few days after Thanksgiving, before he goes away for business.”
“But if you’re looking for funding, why don’t you ask Tobias?”
“Why would I?” The tone, and the way he looked at her, told her she had crossed a line. There was something defensive in his words, subtle, but definitely there, and she pushed it to the back of her mind, to examine later when she would be home alone. “Just because he’s my brother and he’s loaded, doesn’t mean I have to go running to him each time I need help.”
“Sorry.”
“I can help, if you want. I’ve analyzed so many case studies, and written up reports afterwards, it would be a piece of cake for me.”
“Everything’s a piece of cake for you,” he replied, chewing. He seemed to be considering her offer. “You must be smart, being at that college. Is it a shock to the system, coming out of high school and going somewhere like that?”
“I didn’t come straight from high-school. I waited a couple of years, to work and save up. Its astronomical, the fees and everything else.”
“I bet.” He cleared his throat. “So that makes you, what? 21?”
“22. I’m in my second year.” Why did he seem so fixated with how old she was?
She leaned forward, taking out a sweet potato wedge and dipping it into the sauce tub. “I can analyze figures and do you some pretty charts and things. I can do those things with my eyes shut.”
“I’d rather you had them open.”
“It would be better. Sure.”
It was the first time he had smiled properly since she’d arrived.
“Have you been to any more of those women's marches?” he asked.
“There hasn't been another one, yet. Why? Are you thinking of coming along?” As if he would.
He coughed, gave her a suitably serious looking face. “Sure. Why not?”
“Why would you go?”
“Huh?”
“Why would you go?”
“To ... show my support.”
“For what?”
“To ...to show that things have been kind of fucked up, lately.”
“Lately?”
“Well, you know, now that it's all starting to come out.”
“What is?” she asked, wondering if he actually knew, or was fumbling around, pretending to be one of the good guys.
“The—uh, the stuff that's been going on in Hollywood. The casting couch, and all that.”
“That's been around for years, allegedly.”
“And I find it shocking that this shit still happens.”
“It's a shocking world we live in.”
He nodded his head. She sensed he was being reticent, as if he was feeling his way ar
ound the conversation, mindful of what to say. She wasn't even sure if he had an opinion, or had been aware of much of what had been going on. It remained to be seen whether he was genuinely sympathetic, or merely paying lip service.
After they were done eating, he showed her what he needed doing, and she could tell already that it would be simpler than most of her homework assignments. Helping him made her feel good, as if she had a one up over him. And she liked the idea of that.
She told him she’d have his document done the day after Thanksgiving. It would give him some time to go over what she had done, and he could let her know if it needed further changes before his meeting.
He copied everything onto a memory stick and gave it to her.
Chapter 26
She called her parents on Thanksgiving, trying to gauge the mood. But things seemed not so bad. Her father even tried to crack a joke.
“And try and get Dad to go for a walk every day,” she reminded her mother again.
“You know what he’s like.”
“You could at least ask him.” Had her mother completely given up on him? It had been a tough decision to come to New York to study, not only because she knew she risked a lifetime of student debt, but she didn’t want to leave her dad. Her mom and Owen weren’t the most empathetic of people.
“I’ll ask him.” Her mother made it sound as if it was a chore, as if she had to ask him if he needed her extra kidney. It wasn’t his fault that this time of the year didn’t work out so well for him. The dark nights, and cold, depressing mornings made his mood slide lower into the abyss.
Izzy wondered how different life might have been for her family if things had worked out for her father, if he hadn’t been screwed over, and if that slimy rich businessman had paid up and honored all of his promises. They wouldn’t have had to move out of the nice house her father had bought with the profits of a thriving construction company business. And he wouldn’t have had to close down his company and declare bankruptcy. He wouldn’t have felt the failure which he so clearly now felt, no matter what anybody said to make him think otherwise.
