Page 44 of Dangerous Pursuit
"Hardly," I say and I force my eyes off the inviting-looking mattress. "Why? Worried what I might find?"
"Please," Xander strolls to his bed, and plops on the mattress, pillows bouncing up and. "I've no secrets."
He props his palms on the mattress behind him, leaning back, exposing more of his neck that pokes out of his shirt, the burgundy lampshade on his bedside table making his skin appear ever warmer than usual. I lick my bottom lip before I remember I'm on a tour. "Everyone has secrets," I say as I give him one last look and turn to—
I halt mid-step when my gaze stops at a wooden desk in a shadowy corner of the room.
Speaking of secrets…
The chair by the desk is a big one, resembling an armchair more than it does an office chair. There's a laptop crammed in the corner of the desk top, and right in the middle, as well as on either side, there are cameras sitting on tripods, surrounded by ring lights, and there's an additional fancy-looking, although miniature studio lamp in another corner.
I look back at Xander, then the desk, then Xander again. "Xander? Do you do porn for a living?"
His eyes widen just for a fraction of a second before he schools his features, but I don't miss it. He then traps his lower lip between his teeth and leans back even further until he's almost lying down on his back. "Well, no, but now that you mention it… You think I'd be any good?" He rolls onto his stomach, and I do my best not to let his ass, which he bends on purpose, distract me.
I fold my arms and cock my head to the side.
Xander rolls his eyes and sits back up. "No, I don't do porn. I do Tarot readings."
Both my brows shoot up. "You what now?"
"Hey!" He acts hurt. "Don't poke fun at my job."
I raise my palms in a placating gesture. "I wouldn't dream of it. It's just…" I turn my attention to the desk again, and only now do I notice the many,manyhalf-burned candles scattered across the desk top and about a dozen stacks of cards, all different sizes, lined up near one edge. "I think I need more explanation than that."
Xander sighs like it's an unreasonable request, gets up, and walks up to the desk. He grabs two stacks and then turns to face me, propping one hip against the edge of the desk. "Fine. What do you wanna know?"
"Gee, I don't even know where to start." I look around the desk. "Why the cameras?"
"So that people can see me?" He says, and all that's missing is 'duh'.
"See you? See you how? Also, what people?"
"Just people," he says, and after I shoot him a puzzled look, he adds, "On YouTube and stuff."
"On You—" I bite my tongue and wipe my palm across my face to physically stop my grin, because as amusing as I find it, I don't want to be a dick. "I'm sorry. I just never realized fortune tellers moved shop online." So much for not being a dick.
Xander huffs at me for real now. "It's not fortune telling. Come." He grabs a few more items from the desk and walks back to the bed. "You look like you could use some guidance."
Fortunately, Xander doesn't look at me and can't see me fighting a smirk as he, with the utmost focus on his face tosses his knickknacks on the bed, plops down himself, grabs a lighter and what looks like a very slim piece of wood and burns up the tip. A tiny flame appears for just a second before it dies down, causing the tip to emit a thin string of smoke. He waves the wood in front of him, next to him and above his head, looking positively crazy. After he deems his smoke work satisfactory, he puts the slim stick into what I can only assume is a custom…slim stick holder, takes one deck of cards out of its box and starts shuffling. "Coming, or what?"
Oh, I'm coming, alright. Whatever this is, it looks too hilarious to miss.
Xander puts down the cards as I walk over, and lights up a couple of candles, which I now realize he must be spending a small fortune on. By the time I'm seated, cross-legged and across from Xander, he's resumed his shuffling. His eyes are closed and his breaths come slow, deep and deliberate, like he's calming himself down before giving a presentation, creating an image so out of place, yet so oddly fascinating I can't stop myself from scooting closer and taking a better look. My knee grazes Xander's as I do just that, and his eyes immediately fly open.
"Uh-huh," he says as he jerks his knee away and grabs the smoky stick, waving it frantically in the air between us. "Don't fuck with my energy."
There's no way for me to conceal my chuckle this time, and when Xander gives me a very stern, very serious look, I lose it. "Sorry. I'm sorry," I say between chuckles, Xander's death stare doing nothing to calm my giddiness. "It all looks very… professional, and stuff. But…" I pause to figure out if there's a non-asshole way to ask, but decide there isn't. "You don'tactuallybelieve it, do you?"
Xander's eyes narrow, but he resumes shuffling. "Believe what?"
"I don't know. Allthis." I wave my hand above the assortment of all the weird stuff around us. "That you can read something in those cards. That you can predict the future or something."
To my surprise, Xander doesn't seem taken aback. Instead, he says very matter-of-factly, "I told you, I'm not a fortune teller. I can't see the future, mine or anyone else's. Or the past, or the present, for that matter. Neither can the cards."
I'd be lying if I said I'm not relieved. "Okay. What's all this, then? Why do it?"
Xander tilts his head, his eyes wandering around the ceiling like he's contemplating my question. Somewhere along the way, the third button on his shirt came undone and the candlelight shadows dancing across his face, sharpening his features, somehow make him appear almost mystical. "Because people need it. They don't seek cheat codes, they don't want to read a pamphlet with the rest of their lives written on it. They seek something to inspire them, toempowerthem. If it makes one person smile, then it's worth it." He abruptly stops shuffling and places the deck on his palm, bringing it in front of my face. "Cut," he orders.
