Xander’s eyebrows shoot up. “You didn’t answer my calls, so I figured I’d stop by.”
Dominic grabs Xander’s shoulder. He says something that I can’t hear.
Xander sighs dramatically. “It’s getting harder to protect your throne, isn’t it?” His gaze goes to me. “I’m sorry, we weren’t introduced properly. Xander Rexford, at your service.”
I stay frozen in place. “Umm, Juliet.”
“How tragic,” Xander smirks. Then I see it, the resemblance, the same superior confidence that Dom possesses.
“You should go.” Dominic doesn’t look at me. He’s fixed on his brother, fury in his gaze.
“Don’t leave on my account,” Xander exclaims. “Please, stay, you looked like you were having fun.”
Could this get anymore humiliating?
“Juliet,” Dominic barks. “Leave, now!”
I flinch. A moment ago, he was telling me I was all he wanted, now I’m being ordered out of his sight like I’m some servant at his beck and call. Or his employee. Which technically I am. Shit. “Fine.”
I stalk past them, trying to hold my head high, trying to ignore the sting of Dominic’s rejection and the utter embarrassment of his brother finding us like that on the bed. I can’t imagine ever getting over it. Remembering the keycard in my jeans’ pocket, I lay it on the buffet in the entry. The door clicks softly behind me, feeling final.
What the hell just happened?
“Juliet, get up!”
Something whaps me on the head, once, twice. I bolt upright to find Callie sitting beside me, a newspaper rolled in her hand.
“What am I, a bad dog?”
“Yes,” she quips and flattens the paper. Thrusts it at me.
“It’s Sunday,” I groan. “I just want to sleep. Go away.” I’m still reeling over what happened at the penthouse Friday night.
“Oh, Jesus, put your big girl panties on. Some random dude watched you get kinky, and Dominic humiliated you. I get it.”
“Seriously?” I cross my arms. “Have you ever had a stranger walk in on you when you’re tied to a bed?”
“Honey, that’s a typical Friday night for me.”
I laugh, but my heart’s not in it. The naïve part of me thinks he still might actually call or text, something, to apologize. He hasn’t yet, and I’m not sure why I’m hurting over it. Like Dominic ever apologized for anything. I should know better by now.
After I got home, Callie and Em kept me up until two AM to rehash every detail and speculate why Dominic turned so cold. We formed no satisfying conclusions, but polished off a couple of bottles of wine in the process. My head is not relishing the consequences. At the moment, I just need to sleep.
I try to pull the covers up and hide but Callie yanks them back.
“Nuh-uh. Read it.” She drops the paper on my lap. It’s a copy of the weekend papers, also known as ‘Rich People’s Wedding Announcement Day.’
I groan. “I don’t care if some trust fund private school teacher married a proctologist on the beach.”
Callie flips the paper over and points.
REXFORD HEIR RETURNS FROM EUROPE READY TO TAKE THE REINS
Alexander Brigham Rexford has returned to his suite at The Rexford Chicago, after a lengthy sabbatical in Europe. The dashing Rexford heir has been well followed on the Euro touring car circuit, making a name for himself as a top racing contender. And let’s not forget his drool-worthy modeling debut for designer Tom Ford in Morocco last year. With the very public division of company shares after the deaths of Xander’s parents, which left him with zero control of the company but a massive inheritance, we can only speculate his return coincides with the recent Rexford drama involving hush-hush theft by an intern. (No worries, loves, we’re still hot on the trail to find out exactly what went down and all the yummy details.) Is Xander back to challenge his brother and CEO of Rexford, Inc., Dominic, for control? It’s no secret The Rexford has been on a downward spiral in recent years, due in part to the rise of more modern-suave luxury hotels, like the Prescott Group.