Xavier: A Men of Gotham Novel

by Daisy Allen

  "Oh, not at all! I’m still in the ideas stage and Jade has been kind enough to look over them."

  "Mind if we have a look?" He reaches for the portfolio before I can even respond. I guess he's not used to having people refuse. I steal a glance at Xavier, but he's looking at the plans. I can’t tell if he’s actually engrossed in them, or just avoiding me.

  We didn’t leave things on a good note at the furniture store with me walking after refusing to answer any more of his questions. It’s been a long week of radio silence from the both of us, and I guess I should be glad.

  There's a buzz on my phone, and I pull it from my bag, welcoming the chance to focus my attention on something other than Xavier. I glance at it, then look up to see Jade watching me.

  "It's just my partner. He's outside and wanted to know if I needed a ride back to the office."

  "Oh! Tell him to come in and have a drink with us,” she offers.

  "Oh, um, no, I'm sure you have a lot to do, you've already spent so much time with me."

  "Oh, please. She's relishing having conversation with people who won’t expect her to change their diapers after," Harriet says and waves the waiter down, asking him to bring another chair.

  "Okay, sure, I'll ask," I cave, and quickly tap a few words into my phone.

  It's only seconds before I hear my name called out.

  It's Cameron, a bunch of flowers in one hand, his phone in the other. He leans in and brushes a kiss on my cheek before turning to Jade and Harriet, giving them a wide smile. With a flourish, he pulls two roses out of the bunch and hands one each to the two women and then holds the bouquet out to me, with a wink. I laugh and take it from him, making a show of burying my face in it and fluttering my eyelashes.

  Kaine reaches out his hand and Cameron takes it, giving it a solid shake. I know Cameron has a small spot of hero worship for Kaine and his business acumen, and it shows in the giant grin on his face.

  "Cameron, you remember Xavier from the other gala?" I say, a split second before I notice the stormy look on Xavier’s face.

  "Of course, you're one helluva bidder, did wonders for getting our firm's name out there!" Cameron says, holding his hand out. It takes a second too long for Xavier to take it, who looks down at the offered hand like he’d rather not touch it, and there's instant tension in the air. I tug gently on the sleeve of Cameron's jacket, pulling him back into a chair, giving him a reassuring nod as a look of confusion crosses his face.

  "Cameron, what's your poison?" Jade asks.

  "Oh, just an espresso for me, please. Need something to knock some life into my brain at this time of the afternoon most days."

  "Xavier, what about you?" she asks and is met with stony silence.

  What the hell is wrong with him?

  "Three double espressos," Kaine says, waving the waiter off, before throwing a look at Xavier.

  "So, Kaine, what do you think of Isabella's plans for the youth center?"

  "Well, from what I see, I think Jade's right, you are really going to brighten up that old warehouse. You've got a real eye, Isabella. I think you're going to make that place open right up, and yet still give it a warm, cozy feel for the kids."

  I blush from the compliment. I'm never quite used to telling people what they should do with their homes, their offices.

  "She's a star all right, I like to think I discovered her,” Cameron boasts, giving me a wink.

  "Pffft, please," I hear Xavier mumble under his breath, and hope I'm the only one.

  "Well, it's just a rough proposal, things will change once all the interior repairs have been done and we can really know what we're working with. Even then, plans can change."

  "No shit, Sherlock," Xavier scoffs, this time, not so quietly.

  "Sorry? I'm not quite sure what you mean." Cameron asks Xavier directly, and I hold my breath. He’s sweet and charming, but there are no doormat tendencies to Cameron. He’s as tenacious under that smile as anyone I know.

  But he doesn’t faze Xavier, who just shrugs. "I just mean plans, apparently, can change. Dramatically. It almost seems like a waste of time making them. Isn't that right, Isabella?" He says my name like it's cyanide, and he needs to spit it out before it poisons every last cell in his body.

  "Hey!" Cameron says, his hand coming up to touch my shoulder. "I'm not really sure I appreciate your tone, buddy."

  Xavier pushes himself out of his chair, ignoring the clang as it topples onto the floor. His biceps bulge and I follow the line of his arms down to scrunched up fists. For a moment, it looks like he's going to face off with Cameron, then he exhales and pivots, storming out of the restaurant.

  "What the hell was that?" Harriet asks, and the look on Kaine's face tells me he knows more than he's letting up. He gets up to follow but I give him a weak smile and shake my head.

  "No, I think it should be me."

  It almost looks like he doesn’t want to give in, but Jade touches his arm and he relents.

  "Go. But go fast. He won't hang around for long."

  I pick up my purse and squeeze a confused looking Cameron on the arm before I run after Xavier. He's hailing a cab as I step outside and I run up to him.

  "What the fuck was that, Xavier?"

  "Go away, Isabella."

  "Not until you tell me what's wrong!"

  "You know, I have recently learned that you're a liar, and a promise breaker, but I guess maybe I should add clueless to that list! Who knows? Maybe a gold digger as well?"

  I rip my palm across his cheek before either of us can stop it.

  "You have no fucking right to talk like that to me!"

  He just stands there, hand print on his face growing redder by the second. I can't read his eyes, but there's a look of contempt I never thought I'd see in them. And I say what I should've from the start.

  "We shouldn't have done this. We can't be in each other's lives. Goodbye, Xavier."

  I spin around before the twisting in my stomach makes it too hard.

  But before I can walk away, there's a hand on my wrist, pulling me back.

  "Do you think this is easy for me? Seeing you. With him? With anyone?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I spent twelve years, TWELVE fucking years looking for you, Malynda. Not knowing what happened to you, to us. Using every resource at my disposal to find you. Not even really knowing if you were alive. It got to a point I hoped that you'd fallen in love with someone and were living your dream of being a dancer in Europe somewhere. And then, after all this time, I find out, you've been right on my doorstep this whole time. You just changed your name, been living it up on the upper east side with your businessman, and what? Playing dollhouse for fun? What happened to dancing? What happened to your dream? What happened to you?!"

  There's a crowd building around us, but I don't care. I can barely see out of my blurry eyes to focus on his face.

  "You... you don't know me, Xavier. You knew me for one summer, twelve years ago. You don't know what I've been through. You don't know what got me here. So don't you lecture me about my life. I'm not the only one that's living it up on the upper east side as you put it, playing dollhouse in your penthouse. Maybe I should ask you what got you there. Last I heard helping the poor didn’t put you in designer suits. All this tells me is, our past is just that, in the past. We have no present, and definitely no future."

  I stare at him, daring him to respond. I don't know what to expect, don't know what I want him to say. Just that, for all my bravado, I don't have the strength to be the one to walk away.

  "Malynda," he finally says, in a sigh as long as the day. His eyes still on mine, he reaches out slowly, taking my hand in his. I ignore the way my fingers twitch instantly at his touch. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know what's brought you here. But I want to know. Don't you understand that? Don't you get what it’s been like for me all this time?’

  Any contempt we felt in the heated moment is gone. All that's left in his eyes are questions. Th
at he's hoping he can get answers to from me. But I have none. Nothing that can help him. It's better to wonder sometimes. He doesn’t know, I'm holding back for his sake.

  "I'm sorry too, Xave. I don't... I can't give you the answers you're looking for."

  He lets go of my hand, and it drops to my side. I look down at the ground, grey pavement worn down by countless footsteps of countless New Yorkers.

  "Fine. If that’s the way you feel, I’m not going to pressure you about it today. But you're wrong about one thing. We can. We can be in each other's lives."

  I open my mouth to protest but he stops it with a look.

  "We can. I will try to make it easier for you to be around me. Okay? I'd rather have you in my life, giving me grumpy looks and scolding me every few minutes for pushing you too far, than not at all."

  I roll my eyes, and a little of the tension in the air dissipates. The truth is, I can't imagine him not being a part of my life, now that he's back in it. However wrong it might be.

  "You deserve the scoldings,” I say, accusingly.

  He bows low, with a flourish of his arm. "I will accept them obediently, ma'am."

  I snort, louder than I mean to, and it makes him grin. That fucking grin. Where did he learn to do that?

  "Friends?" he says, holding out his hand.

  I take it, my hand feeling delicate but safe in his. We shake.

  "Friends."

  "With benef-.."

  "XAVIER!"

  "Just testing the scolding feature. It works," he chuckles.

  He's still holding my hand and I give it a squeeze and then pull it back.

  "I can't talk about the past, Xavier. I need you to understand that, if we're going to be friends."

  He nods, his lips tightening for a split second, like he's holding back the barrage of questions I know he has. But he doesn't say anything more.

  "So, friend. Can I get you that espresso?" He gestures with his head back toward the restaurant.

  "And an eclair. And a scoop of vanilla. And some mac and cheese."

  "Some things never change," he mutters as we walk back to our waiting friends.

  ***

  "You're here late," Cameron says around 9 p.m. as he walks past my office, pulling his suit jacket on.

  "Yeah, I'm way behind, probably been spending too much time on the youth center." I look up from my desk from the first time in hours to see that the sky over Manhattan is dark. I can't remember how long I've been sitting there.

  "Hey, about that." Here it goes, I knew this was coming. "You sure you're okay working on that project."

  "What do you mean," I answer, wondering if he'll fall for my look of confusion.

  "Iz, I only let you play dumb because it puts the clients at ease. It doesn't actually work with me."

  I poke my tongue out and he responds in kind. "No, really, what are you talking about?"

  "Xavier. He's an ass. I don't know what's going on between you two but I'm not sure it's a good thing."

  "It's nothing, a misunderstanding," I say, with a wave of my hand. "Just... we didn't agree with an idea for his apartment."

  Cameron isn't convinced, but he keeps it to himself.

  "Need a ride home? Or maybe some dinner?"

  "No, I think I'm going to finish up here and stretch my legs a bit and walk home."

  "You know, one of these days, you'll realize what a sexy hunk you have for a business partner, and you won't be able to resist me."

  Right on cue, there’s a buzzing of the phone in his hand. He glances at it and then looks at me sheepishly.

  "Yeah, you're really lacking for company."

  "Guy's gotta eat," he shrugs before coming around behind my desk and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "You know I just want the best for you."

  I nod. I do know. I'm just not really sure what that is anymore.

  Thirteen

  Him

  "Is there a name for the face you're imagining on that punching bag, or is it just your time of the month?" Ram grunts as he hugs the bag, absorbing the leftover shock from my kicks with his body. I've punched that torso of his, I'd rather take my chances with the bag of sand.

  "Cameron." I pant and give the bag one last kick before I drop to the ground, catching my breath.

  "Sounds like one of your snooty lot, rather than mine."

  "He's not 'my lot'," I growl.

  "Well, you're not going to see a lot of Camerons around here."

  "I wish I didn't see any Camerons anywhere," I sulk.

  "Ah, it's a girl thing. Gotcha."

  I don't answer, just throw my sweaty glove at him as I make my way to the bench press.

  She said I had to be nice to her. She never said anything about her partner.

  ***

  Malynda is completely engrossed in a pillow when I get to the store. Holding it right up to her face, she stares at it for a moment before rubbing it against the side of her cheek, eyelids closed. I can almost hear her sigh from 100 feet away.

  I'm not really sure what she's doing, but I'm wishing I was that pillow right now.

  She opens her eyes and lays the pillow back down on the bed, running her fingertips along the seam, a soft smile on her face.

  I am probably going to have to skip any meeting where she wants to discuss my bedroom design. Even after the energy depleting workout last night, I'm not too tired to imagine throwing her on that display bed right now. And showing her just how much I've missed her all these years.

  As if she can hear the impure thoughts running through my head she turns, sees me, and waves.

  "Hi, what about these?" she says as I walk up to her, holding out a sheet set for me to look at, but all I see is her.

  "Er, yeah, great."

  "No, you have to feel them. They feel like liquid silk, ugh. Amazing." She grabs my hand and pushes it over the bed spread. Liquid silk. That's how I would've described her. Being inside her.

  "Mmm," I force myself to say, as I beg my cock to behave. "Very nice."

  "Ugh! this is wasted on you. Might as well go get you a sheet set from Walmart."

  I can't help but laugh. Truth is, my apartment IS sparse, yes. But my bed linens are of the highest quality. When you sleep naked, you tend to care about what you're sleeping on.

  Even if, right now, I'm more focused on who I want to be sleeping with.

  She’s wandered over to the lighting section and looks like she belongs there. Reflections off the tousled blonde bun on her head hit me like sun rays, lighting up her face like a spotlight.

  She gestures impatiently to me and I take three steps to catch up with her.

  "What about these?" she says, pointing to a set of wall panels with a LED light behind them. It disperses the light while emitting a warmth that wouldn't look out of place in my apartment. "We can get them in a darker color, red oak, maybe. I think that'll suit you better. For the entryway, where the elevator opens to."

  She's right. She's always had that impeccable sense of color. For a moment, I cringe, remembering what I said to her yesterday. The truth is, I think this is the perfect job for her. But I can't take back what I said. I can only apologize.

  "Hey, you're the boss," I say, as I do every time she suggests something.

  "Xavier! You're the one who has to live there and look at this stuff. You're going to regret letting me choose everything."

  "I really don't care. You have a good eye. I trust you." The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. And the way she looks away tells me, she caught it too.

  "Fine," she clears her throat a few seconds later, "but please look over some of the fabric swatches I sent over so you can be prepared to give me an opinion next time."

  "Yes, I will tell you exactly what shade of puke I want for my tablecloth."

  "Puce!"

  "That's what I said.”

  "Ugh,” she grumbles and waves her hand at me.

  I follow her as she wanders over to another stack of sheets.

  "So,
um, what are you doing tonight?" I ask.

  She frowns, "Why?"

  "Just making conversation."

  "Well, I have a late meeting, but then, I actually have quite the romantic night planned."

  I swallow the burn of white-hot jealousy. "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yup, I bought a special outfit at Victoria Secret just for tonight."

  Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. "Oh. Ok. Wow. Lucky guy."

  "Yup, it's a flannel pajama set with matching slippers. I'm going to slip into something very comfortable and eat my special mac and cheese, with a glass of wine and Netflix." She makes a show of fanning herself and winks dramatically at me.

  If she could read my mind she’d see the sheer relief flashing across it. "Well, sounds like you're in for a night to remember!"

  She giggles as I take the basket from her and walk her to the checkout.

  "So, hey, these pajamas of yours, any chance flannel comes in see-through?"

  “Xavier!”

  Fourteen

  Her

  I admit it. I was slightly disappointed when Xavier asked my plans and then left it at that. What did I want? Did I want him to ask me out for dinner?

  No. No! Because then I would've had to say no, and I don't know that I could've.

  But now here I am, in my office, last meeting of the day finally over, and the prospect of mac and cheese alone in my apartment is actually making me feel more lonely than I have felt in years.

  The stack of catalogues on the side of my desk are seemingly mocking me as I reach out to pack them into my work bag, knowing that I’ll be spending tonight of all nights with them.

  “Shush. I like my work,” I tell them, and try not to cringe at the pathetic way my voice sounds as I try to defend my hermit lifestyle to a stack of papers.

  I flip the switch on my desk lamp and pull the coat off the back of my chair. I contemplate calling Jade before I realize she’s probably busy bathing or feeding her baby.

  Alone it is.

  “Hello?”

  I jump as a man wearing a candy stripe uniform and a bunch of helium balloons wanders into my office. It’s the last thing that I expected to see right now.