The Arrangement Book 5

XAVIER

Steve, that stupid fucking cunt.

I stumbled through the hotel lobby toward the elevator. Two older women were on their way out, shushing and whispering as they threw judgmental glances my way.

I glared at them as they passed, and they stared at their garish high heels, hiding their faces behind the high collars of their fur coats as they rushed away.

That shut them up.

I groped the wall for the elevator button, fighting through the haze of whiskey and smoke that filled my brain. I slammed the button repeatedly until the doors dinged open. Once again, I collapsed drunk on the elevator bench.

How many fucking times was I going to do this?

I’d shown up to the interview a little drunk.

It wasn't my fault. They were the ones that delayed the damn thing for two hours. Didn't they know how valuable my time was?

Besides that, I knew for a fact that Steve and Stephen Stevenson did most of their deals with cocktails in their hands. It was basically a requirement to close deals with a drink.

Why were they so pissed that I’d shown up tipsy?

Fucking hypocrites.

A time and place, they’d said.

Please.

Who were they to lecture me about the proper time when they couldn’t even stick to their own goddamn schedules?

The interview had gone to shit.

Obviously.

They’d told me to sober up; I’d told them to go fuck themselves. Then I did what any sensible businessman would do: I walked down to the closest bar and drank myself silly.

I still had the presence of mind to go to my favorite shithole to keep the prying eyes of the press away. Homeless Popeye had looked at me like I was a flea-bitten dog that just wouldn’t go home.

“Back for round two?” he asked, his voice nails on a fucking chalkboard.

“Fuck off, I just need a drink.”

He roared with laughter. He downed his beer, froth dripping down his scraggly beard.

“Pull up a chair. I’ll drink your sorry ass into the ground.”

Normally, I would’ve ignored someone like him, but I was just riled up enough to accept his challenge.

I pulled up a stool, the damned thing wobbling violently underneath me.

“I’m going to wipe that gap-toothed grin right off your face,” I said.

The next few hours were a blur.

That bastard could drink, I’d give him that.

There I was, Xavier Knight, billionaire, going shot for shot with some loser in a dingy bar.

What has the world come to?

The elevator doors opened into the penthouse, shaking me out of my thoughts. I dragged myself inside and found Angela asleep at the dining table. There was a plate of food in front of her, barely touched.

I checked my phone.

5 missed calls, 1 new voice message.

Guilt reared its ugly head.

“Hey babe,” Angela’s voicemail played. “I’m just wondering where you are…”

I sat next to Angela, staring at the cold dim sum. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her. I didn't feel like her husband; felt like an imposter.

You don’t deserve her.

I picked up the cold wontons, shoveling them into my mouth, not bothering with chopsticks. They were tasteless. Still, I ate them, mindlessly shoveling them down my gullet.

Angela bought them for me. The least I could do was fucking eat them.

ANGELA

My eyes fluttered open, and I woke up to find that I was still at the dinner table. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes before realizing that someone was sitting next to me.

“Xavier,” I said, relief flooding over me.

He was home.

Safe.

He was looking down at the table, his eyes on the empty plate before him.

At least he’s eaten.

He didn’t reply to me. He didn’t even look at me.

I could smell the whiskey coming off of him. I felt myself get dizzy once again, my stomach churning uncomfortably, but I forced myself to stay. Xavier needed me here.

I leaned against him, resting my head on his shoulder.

I felt him stiffen at my touch, and his hands closed into fists on the table.

“How'd the interview go?” I asked gently.

Nothing.

It was as if he was carved from stone.

I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I had to be strong. I had to find a way to guide Xavier out of this funk.

We sat there for what felt like forever, not saying a word.

I reached out to place my hands over his, and I was relieved when he didn’t push me away. I turned over his hands, gently prying his fingers loose from his tight fists. His fingernails had left deep grooves in his palm, and I tried to smooth them over.

I tried to think of something that I could do. The love of my life was in so much pain, and it seemed like there was no way to help him.

I could only hold his hand, filling in the empty spaces between his fingers with mine.

“Come to Japan with me,” I said suddenly.

“What?” His voice was raspy.

I don’t know where the idea came from, but I ran with it.

“Come with me to Marlena Marlboro’s gala. It’ll be beautiful. You could use a change of scenery,” I said, picking up steam. “After the event is over, we can tour the country for a little bit. We can go to Tokyo. We can go see the bamboo forest, and the golden pagoda!”

Xavier didn’t reply, but I could feel that he was mulling it over.

“Besides, you always surprise me with trips. I think it’s my turn to take you on one for once.” I turned my head, kissing his shoulder. “Let’s get away from New York for a little bit, okay?”

He sighed, scooting down to rest his head against mine.

“Okay.”

Warmth flooded through me at his touch. I let go of a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Part of me had expected him to say no. We were so distant lately.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed like I was lost at sea, holding onto a piece of driftwood.

I won’t lose you.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes and into bed,” I urged. I pulled him up, and Xavier groaned as he clutched his head.

“Thanks, Angel,” he said.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

I shook my head, smiling as I led him toward our room, his hand in mine.

“Always.”

PENNY

Is this what Xavier always had to deal with?

I collapsed into my chair, trying my best to ignore the piles of folders on my desk and the hundreds of unread emails in my inbox.

I closed my eyes, imagining myself by the sea, the sun on my skin and a Bradlini in my hands. I could almost smell the salt on the ocean breeze.

A knock on the door sent me crashing back to reality.

“Come in,” I called.

Henry waltzed in, his blazer hung over his shoulder, a stack of papers in the crook of his arm.

“Don’t tell me...” I groaned.

Henry plopped the papers down on my already overflowing desk.

“Yup, sorry, doll,” he said.

“Don’t call me that.”

He shrugged. “I’m taking off for the night. A few of the boys wanted to swing by The Hatchback for a couple of drinks to decompress.”

“Decompress?” I asked. “Have any of you even completed your work for the day?”

“We’re making headway,” Henry assured me, though I believed him about as far as I could throw him. “Relax, Penny. You’re starting to sound like He Who Must Not Be Named.”

He winked.

I glared back.

“Yikes, maybe you should go home, too,” he said. “No sense of humor.”

“Is that all?” I pressed.

“Yup,” he replied. “See you tomorrow, Penny.” He walked out of the office, a bounce in his step.

When the door closed behind him, I sank even deeper into my chair. I picked up the photo of Brad I kept on my desk and stared at his smiling face.

“Oh, Brad,” I sighed. “What have you gotten me into?”

The first couple of weeks after Xavier was ousted as CEO had gone fine. The office actually seemed brighter, calmer. Xavier had held everyone to an impossibly high standard, and everyone felt his relentless pressure to be a top performer.

When he left, everyone seemed to unclench.

A little too much, I thought.

People began to show up late.

Some stole a few minutes to leave early.

Work began to pile up.

Deadlines loomed, then were missed.

Our stock, slowly but surely, began to dip down.

Xavier might have ruled with an iron fist, but it had kept everyone efficient and on their toes. He’d been the glue that held Knight Enterprises together.

But while Xavier may have been holding the company together, doing so had been tearing him apart.

It had brought all of his worst qualities to the forefront.

His impatience.

His anger.

His intense need to perform—the well-being of himself and those around him be damned.

I thought back to that fateful day…to when I’d decided not to stick up for Xavier.

He was clearly on a path to self-destruction.

Brad’s words of wisdom echoed in my mind, and at the time I’d been certain I was making the right decision.

Xavier had to find his own identity. One that wasn’t attached at the hip with a “legacy” at Knight Enterprises. And it seemed like tough love was the only thing that could help.

God knows I’d tried being nice...and that had gotten me absolutely nowhere.

But looking at the endless work piling up on my desk...

Maybe giving him one more chance might not have been such a bad idea.

Henry sure wasn’t any help, either.

He’d been appointed as interim CEO, at least until we found a suitable replacement.

He waltzed around like he owned the place, spending more time around the water cooler than he did at his desk. Everyone at the office loved him. He didn’t make sure that things were running smoothly. He didn’t demand any work to be done.

All he demanded was that you laugh at his bad jokes.

It was like he’d just gotten the keys to his dad’s new car, taking it for joyrides all across town but never bothering to fill the tank afterward.

I eyed the papers on my desk.

If I chipped away at it, I’d probably be done by...

What?

Next year?

I returned Brad’s photo to its spot on my desk, giving it one last look before turning to my laptop screen.

Hopefully everything works out like you wanted, Brad...