Page 16 of Xander

I suspected Xander’s relationship with his mother was much better than with his father. His mother had been sick for a while when Henry and I started dating. I had never met her—let alone watch her interact with her sons—but I wasn’t surprised to find out Xander took over his mother’s well-being after graduation. He’d always been the responsible type.

Before his abrupt departure from our lives, I used to enjoy my time with Xander. He was less bristly than his father. Collected. Mature.

He’ll be such a good big brother when Henry and I have children, I remember thinking, only to be shocked when he walked out of my wedding. From that moment onward, it had been radio silence on his end.

Come to think of it, that was the moment everything fell apart. The once lighthearted conversations with Henry turned stilted, and my motivation to get us back on track diminished. Every effort suddenly required significantly more energy, while my dwindling spirit had little drive to persevere.

I told myself it was because Henry was quick to cast me aside after our wedding, though sometimes I let the thought seep in that Xander’s leaving played a larger role. He was the first person to accept me into this family, and I wished I knew what I had done to deserve his wrath.

Jenna set out a fresh bottle of the wine I ordered, which Henry ignored in favor of his scotch. I couldn’t imagine the peaty notes of it pairing well with the food, but it seemed Henry wasn’t all that intent on eating, focused as he was on needling his son, and I certainly wasn’t about to tell him he shouldn’t have his precious Glenfiddich.

I stirred my carrots around the gold-rimmed china plate and tried not to listen, leaving my wineglass untouched as Xander answered his father’s questions in clipped tones. It had the unsettling feel of a military commander grilling a recruit he wanted to put in his place.

Throughout dinner, Xander’s gaze found its way back to me, but I pretended not to notice. His erratic temperament was giving me whiplash. He had acted perfectly normal upon arrival, and for a moment, there was hope of restoring our previous relationship. I badly wanted acceptance from Henry’s family. Then, just like that, poof! He left the room like I had the plague, and he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

When he returned, he had showered and dressed in simple jeans and a heather gray T-shirt. Seeing him comfortable and at home stirred melancholic nostalgia for our old friendship.

My eyes suddenly burned with rampant emotions. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I assumed the expression of blank interest I wore whenever I dealt with problematic clients, nodding whenever Henry glanced sharply my way because it was expected—not because I agreed with whatever he was saying.

So, when he said, “Right, Jordan?” with a bite as sharp as his scotch, I looked up, startled.

“I’m sorry, darling?” It was automatic. I was as conditioned as any purebred.

“You’ll be happy to take Xander on as a client, right? I know your clients are normally in the big leagues—” He glanced pointedly at Xander, his back upright, holding an air of aristocracy. “—but surely you could make an exception for a young athlete who’s a little, shall we say, lacking when it comes to his PR prowess.”

Xander’s eyes lost several degrees of warmth.

I sighed.

Image was everything to Henry. He only suggested I start handling Xander’s publicity again because of the rumors. Xander’s strained relationship with his father had been brought to the limelight due to our constant absence from his games and prolonged lapses of family photos with the star athlete. I had briefly managed Xander to improve public opinion of him after he turned down an NHL offer. Once more, Henry wanted to control the narrative through me and show the public we were a big, happy family.

He gestured with his scotch. “Sure, you’re on the rise now, but what’s going to happen when you’re older and can’t shoot a puck around the rink the way you used to? You’re going to have to rely on brand deals and endorsements. And nobody worth a dime is going to hire you without proper representation. People want brand loyalty.”

“Loyalty?” Xander repeated incredulously. “You handing out advice on loyalty is worse than a bald person selling hair-growing products.”

In the silence that followed, I could hear the distant hum of the fridge in the other room. My heart thudded in my chest as I watched the standoff.

Xander was no longer the same boy. The Xander I knew would’ve opted for diplomacy. But years had gone by, and he was now a man. Apparently, that meant he had no problem going toe to toe with his domineering father.

“Don’t be cocky,” Henry said, topping off his glass. The movement was unsteady, his hand was shaking with anger. “You’re not irreplaceable just because you’re a star now. Stars can fall, too, and when they do, they go down in flames. That’s what’ll happen with a third-rate company representing you.”

The comment grated on my nerves, and I didn’t want to give Henry the satisfaction of getting away with it.

“Actually,” I heard myself say, “he’s taking a new team to the playoffs and already appeared in numerous commercials. I think what he has accomplished is rather impressive.”

Xander glanced at me with intensity in his eyes and another one of his unreadable expressions. It appeared to be slight satisfaction; he may even be content with my response.

“Impressive?” Henry repeated, drawing deep on the word as if tasting it. “Do you think my son’s impressive, Jordan?”

My son. I didn’t miss the emphasis, subtle as it was.

A clip of a previous conversation with Henry floated back to me—the muted tone in his voice when he inferred that my advanced age was the reason we couldn’t conceive. I sought out fertility clinics in case that was true. Henry postponed the appointments yet accused me of being unable to give him another son.

Henry was pushing me away, even now. And worse, he was doing it in front of his son. Dinner and a show. We were the show.

There was another pause, longer this time. Without looking any less angry, something else pulsed through Xander’s eyes. It was like watching lightning charge through Arctic seawater.

“Yes,” I said at last, feeling a bead of sweat roll down my back. “I think his career is quite impressive.”