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“It's quite all right,” Xavier assured her, offering a reassuring smile with his eyes as she couldn't see his lips through the facemask he still had on.
Sensing his desire to shift the conversation, Asa obliged. “I love the color silver,” she mused, her gaze drifting to the silverware beside her plate. “And I've loved singing and dancing for as long as I can remember.” Her eyes brightened as she continued. “I have a friend named Eli. He's a genius when it comes to music. He's an incredible composer and producer.”
Xavier filed away the name Eli, making a mental note to investigate this person who seemed to hold such significance in Asa's life.
“There's Zara and Lena, too. Zara's kind of my manager,” Asa explained, her slender fingers tracing the rim of her water glass. “She plans my shows and stuff, but she's not very good with StreamBeat.”
Xavier noticed how Asa leaned in closer to him, the movement bringing her scent, a subtle blend of lavender and something uniquely her, into sharper focus. Her proximity was intoxicating, stirring a protective instinct deep within him. Her bright eyes searched his, an unspoken plea dancing within their depths.
“Just wondering,” she began, a hint of hesitancy in her voice as if not wanting to impose, “if maybe perhaps you can lend a hand with the StreamBeat side?”
Xavier chuckled, the sound low and resonant. The thought of delving into Asa's world, even in this small way, intrigued him. “I'd love to help,” he said, locking eyes with her. “But I must make it clear I'm quite busy with work.” His words were measured, tempered by the reality of his commitments. “However, I'll do what I can to assist.”
Asa's reaction was immediate and heartfelt. Her hands came together in a soft clap that echoed the joy in her expression. “Yay!” She beamed at him, an infectious excitement radiating from her.
She offered her hand across the table, a gesture so simple yet laden with meaning. Her palm was open and inviting, waiting for his acceptance.
Xavier regarded her hand for a moment—the delicate fingers, the pale skin that contrasted sharply against the dark wood of the table—before reaching out with his own. As their hands met and clasped firmly, Xavier felt a surge of connection that went beyond their physical touch.
“Let's shake on it to seal the deal,” she said with a smile that could outshine the midday sun.
He couldn't resist the pull of her joy; it was as though she'd weaved a spell around him with nothing more than her sincerity and warmth. Xavier felt a surge of heat as Asa's delicate hand slipped into his, sealing their agreement with a gentle shake. Her fingers were soft, her grip light yet purposeful, reflecting the strength that lay beneath her fragile exterior.
“I'm so glad you're willing to help,” she said, her voice carrying a melodic lilt that danced across his senses. “Zara means well, but she's more focused on the live shows and events. The online side is a bit of a mystery to her.”
As their hands parted, Xavier found himself reluctant to relinquish the contact, his skin still tingling from her touch. He cleared his throat, willing himself to maintain composure. “Of course, I'd be happy to lend my expertise.”
Asa leaned forward, her eyes alight with excitement. “You'll have to meet Lena too. She's been a godsend when it comes to styling and fashion advice.” A soft giggle escaped her lips. “Meredith approves of our friendship, which is a rare thing.”
The mention of Meredith's name ignited a flicker of annoyance within Xavier. The notion of Asa's life being dictated by the whims of her adoptive mother left a bitter taste in his mouth. He pushed the feeling aside, determined not to let it taint this moment.
“I'd love to meet your friends,” he said, offering a warm smile. “Anyone who brings joy and support into your life is someone I'm eager to know.”
Asa's cheeks flushed ever so slightly, her porcelain skin taking on a delicate rosy hue. “You're too kind,” she murmured, her gaze momentarily drifting downward before finding his again.
In that fleeting instant, Xavier glimpsed a flash of vulnerability, a crack in the armor of her usual poise. It was a reminder of the depth of her emotions, the ocean of longing that lay beneath the surface. He ached to soothe those waters, to offer her the solace and understanding she so desperately craved.
Clearing his throat, he steered the conversation back to safer waters. “Tell me more about Lena's fashion expertise. I must admit, I'm woefully ignorant when it comes to such matters.”
Asa's face lit up once more, her earlier hesitation melting away as she eagerly launched into a tale of Lena's prowess with makeup and haute couture. Xavier leaned back, content to bask in the warmth of her enthusiasm, letting her melodic voice wash over him.
* * *
Xavier strode through the sleek corridor of Davenport Enterprises, his steps echoing with a casual confidence. Polished floors gleamed beneath his steps, reflecting the ambient light from the light overhead. The walls, adorned with abstract art, exuded an air of sophistication that resonated with the building's high-powered inhabitants. Staff members flitted between offices like a colony of industrious ants, their focused faces illuminated by the glow of computer screens.
As he walked, a hush spread through the corridor. Eyes followed him, some widened in surprise at his departure from the expected corporate attire. Xavier's jeans hugged his legs in a way that bespoke both comfort and style, paired with a shirt that hinted at the lean muscle beneath without screaming for attention. A few female staff members paused mid-task, their expressions veering between admiration and outright desire.
Running a hand through his tousled hair, a deliberate act of nonchalance, Xavier pushed open the door to Dominic's office. The space was a masterclass in minimalist yet unmistakably luxurious design, with sleek lines and muted tones that exuded a sense of power and control. A large desk of dark wood dominated the space, its surface clear save for a few strategically placed documents and a high-tech computer setup. Behind it, floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city's skyline, a backdrop that seemed to accentuate Dominic's power.
Dominic sat ensconced in his chair behind the desk, the epitome of authority, every inch the CEO of Davenport Enterprises. Lucian perched casually on the edge of the desk, his relaxed posture a counterpoint to their elder brother's rigid bearing. The brothers were engrossed in discussion over spreadsheets and projections until Xavier's entrance caught their attention.
Dominic's brow arched ever so slightly, a silent question in his expression. Lucian, on the other hand, chuckled in amusement, his mercurial eyes dancing with mirth at Xavier's uncharacteristic appearance.
“Slumming it today?” Lucian quipped as Xavier sank into the plush sofa.
Xavier responded by removing his glasses, a rare concession to his usual preference for contacts, and massaging the bridge of his nose where they had rested. “Nearsightedness can be bothersome,” he admitted. “Especially when you're trying to make an impression.”
In truth, his nearsightedness was mild, but the glasses served a purpose, a subtle disguise that allowed him to slip into a more approachable persona when the situation demanded it. At the tech expo earlier, he had donned his contacts, presenting the polished, professional visage expected of a keynote speaker. But when the opportunity arose to connect with Asa, Xavier had swiftly shed that veneer, opting for a more relaxed and relatable appearance.
