Page 27 of Even Beneath the Stars

He drops onto a stool beside Denise as Candice slides a plate his way—only to keep a firm grip when he reaches for it.

"So?" She arches a brow. "Did you watch the game last night?"

Xavier rolls his eyes. "Unfortunately, yeah." His grin causes a dimple to pop on his left side.

Denise chuckles, glancing up from her computer. "They made a bet," she explains to me. "Football."

"And Xave picked the wrong team," Candice gloats, still holding the plate hostage. "Next Saturday. After lunch. One hour—three-cheese lasagna."

"Every time his team loses, Xavier has to do a one-hour cooking lesson with Candice," Denise tells me.

Xavier drags his teeth over his lower lip before meeting Candice’s twinkling eyes. "Next Saturday. Got it."

"Great." She releases the plate.

I stab a piece of egg. "What happens if Candice's team loses?" I ask Denise, unable to bury my curiosity, which, ok—isn't really about the football bet. It's the whole weird dynamic between Xavier and the staff that I'm fascinated with. It's not how you'd imagine the dynamic between the staff and their employer's son… but it also isn't a totally authentic closeness, either. A few of the staff seem tolook out for Xave and Finn, but it's the kind of caring that has these bizarre parameters.

"If Candice's team loses, she has to bake Xavier any cake he chooses," Denise answers.

Candice grins. "Feels likeagessince I made a cake."

"Triple-layer red velvet," Xavier corrects through a mouthful of omelet. "Less than two weeks ago."

"That was just me trying to fatten you up."

"That was you losing." He takes another bite of omelet. "Forty-seven to nine."

"It was so long ago, I barely remember."

He shakes his head, smirking. "Iremember. Cake was fan-freaking-tastic."

"And so will be the lasagna you make this weekend." Candice loads mixing bowls into the dishwasher. "Oh, and heads-up, sunshine—if you show up hungover, I’ll have you whip ricotta dip on high speed. Extra loud."

Xavier rolls his eyes again, but the grin lingers—only minus the dimple.

"Do I like lasagna?" Finn asks no-one in particular.

"You like Candice's lasagna," Xavier tells him.

"And you'll like Xavier's," Candice counters, with affectionate confidence.

See? It's like Candice and Denise are his aunts or something. But then, there are these weird reminders that they are, in fact, just paid staff who work for his father—and dealing with Xavier and Finn is part of their job description. Like, when a few minutes later Denise looks up from her laptop and tells Xavier he has a sitting tomorrow evening with some fancy painter his mother hired to do portraits of him and Finn.

"Six to eight. And wear a nice shirt "

He squints at Denise like he’s trying to determine if she’s serious. "He just painted us."

"Three years ago."

Xavier scrapes the last bits of egg off his plate. "Whatever. I'm still out."

Denise closes her laptop. "It's two hours of your time."

"That I won't get back." He stands up, taking his plate with him and stacking it in the dishwasher. Like a normal human being.

Denise stands too, and leans against the counter, glancing at her phone beside her laptop when it pings, then back at him. "Xavier… Please." She sighs. "Don't be difficult."

"I'm not being difficult."

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