The Way You Tempt Me. Elle Wright

He was an asshole and she had recently been voted one of the “30 Hottest Women under 30” in People magazine. His woman, the woman he had planned to propose to that night. The title taunted him, and he re-read it three times in a row, just to be sure and maybe to will it away. He closed his eyes and reopened them. Shit. It was still there, still pissing him off, still taunting him: NAOMI MURPHY DUMPS XAVIER STARKS FOR PRO-BASKETBALL PLAYER ETHAN PORTER.

      Chapter 2

      “Damn, X. What number is this?”

      Xavier glanced over at his friend Garrett Steele and watched as he ordered a cognac neat. Without answering, he turned his attention back to his own glass, half filled with the same amber liquor his friend had just requested.

      “X?” Garrett called.

      It wasn’t Garrett’s fault. He’d been sitting next to him for a good fifteen minutes, trying to engage. But Xavier wasn’t ready to converse with anyone. Christmas music blared through the surround-sound speakers, laughter permeated the air around him, and his parents worked the room, as they did every year at this time. The annual Starks holiday party was in full swing.

      It had been two weeks since he’d been dumped via tabloid, and Xavier had finally emerged from his cocoon of work, home, and takeout. But only because his father had sent reinforcements to force him to shower and put on his best suit for the occasion. His mother and Skye had appeared on his doorstep with a brand-new suit, shoes, and a veiled threat to “get your shit together, because that woman will not get another ounce of your energy.”

      Xavier finished his drink and tapped the bar counter, signaling to the bartender to refill his glass. “I’ll drink until people stop staring at me.”

      Garrett snickered. “Man, this is not your first scandal, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

      “If that’s your attempt at helping the situation, you failed miserably.”

      “Shit, I’m done. I can’t even muster the obligatory ‘you’re better off’ speech. Because the whole thing is fucked-up.”

      “Exactly.” Xavier picked up his glass and tipped it in his friend’s direction. “The silver lining will reveal itself when I get over forking over twenty thousand dollars on that damn ugly-ass ring, ordering exotic flowers, and flying Duke here for a gourmet meal, only to find out that the woman I was supposed to propose to...” He shook his head. He couldn’t say it out loud anymore.

      After some prodding from Skye, he’d tossed a few glasses against his living-room wall. That shit didn’t help. The only thing it did was shine a light on how incredibly oblivious he’d been. Naomi didn’t love him, or even care that much about him. She’d used him from the beginning, and he’d helped her. His connections in the business, his father’s name... everything about him fit into her plan for her career. He’d just been so preoccupied with his own career track that he’d failed to see she was playing him all along.

      Now he was embarrassed, humiliated, tormented by the gossip and vlogs devoted to his pitifulness. His saving grace was that the downfall of his relationship only cost him money, and not his heart. Oh, and a little bit of his dignity and a possible client in Ethan Porter. Because at Naomi’s encouragement, he’d approached the popular small forward about representation for the new division.

      Xavier snorted. “She played me. Hell, they both did. This is some bullshit.”

      “Yeah... pretty much,” Garrett agreed.

      Garrett and X had attended Morehouse College together and pledged the same fraternity. X had often credited Garrett with helping him experience normal life, without cameras. He’d learned a lot about navigating the world simply by watching Garrett handle college without help from his mother or any support system capable of helping him adjust. There was only Garrett and his little sister, Maxine. So Xavier became their family.

      “But you did dodge a bullet, man.” Garrett clasped X’s shoulder and squeezed. “I can’t be upset about that. Just imagine how bad this could have been.”

      As usual, Garrett was right. Having this happen after he married Naomi or even proposed to her would have been so much worse. Still, it didn’t dull the sting of being labeled everything from an abusive drunk to a down-low cheater to a swinger who wanted Naomi to be a part of his harem. Yes, the bloggers and vloggers had grasped at every straw in their haste to get more likes and subscriptions.

      “You’re right, bruh,” Xavier conceded.

      “Are you going to speak out? Tell your side of the story? I’m available to help.”

      Garrett owned his own crisis management firm and he specialized in making shit go away. But Xavier didn’t need to hire out for this. As long as he kept his cool, it would blow over. At least that’s what he told himself every time he had the urge to find Ethan Porter and pummel him to the ground.

      He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah, I’m good. My plan is to lay low right now.”

      “That’s always a good plan in these types of situations. I’m sure Skye is working behind the scenes to turn the narrative and make Naomi the big bad in the relationship.”

      Xavier shrugged. “I really don’t know. She’s—”

      As if on cue, Skye appeared out of nowhere, a bright smile on her face as she walked toward them. He picked up his drink just in time for her to snatch the glass from him.

      “You’ve had enough.” She quickly tossed back the drink. “People are pretending not to stare and are murmuring under their breath.”

      “Hello, Skye,” Garrett said. “Merry Christmas.”

      With cool eyes, Skye glared at his friend for a moment before turning her attention back to him. “I hate that shit,” she said without acknowledging Garrett’s greeting. “Get up and mingle, X.” She set his empty glass on the bar top and walked away.

      Xavier eyed his friend. “My suggestion?”

      “What?” Garrett asked, an edge to his voice that hadn’t been there earlier.

      “Maybe you need to handle your own business, instead of trying to get in mine.”

      Garrett stood abruptly, nearly tipping the stool over. “Man, shut the hell up.”

      Xavier tried hard not to laugh as his friend headed over to another group of people on the other side of the room, muttering a string of frustrated curses along the way.

      Turning to the bartender, he ordered another drink.

      “Son, are you going to sit here all night, babe?” His mother stepped up to the spot Garrett had just vacated. She perched herself on the empty stool and smiled at the bartender. “Justin, please make this his last one tonight.”

      “Justin, make this one a double,” Xavier ordered.

      The bartender’s gaze darted back and forth from Xavier to Ana. “Sir, I . . .”

      Ana patted the nervous bartender’s hand. “It’s okay. This is it for him. I’d like another glass of champagne, too.”

      Justin rushed away to pour the drinks, and Xavier’s mother looked at him and smiled. Her eyes were sharp, all-seeing. Her beautiful dark brown skin seemed to glow in the muted lighting. Always stunning, she wore a long-sleeved, sequined emerald-green dress to match the occasion. The jewelry she wore sparkled like Christmas lights. It was no wonder she’d made a living as a model for the world’s top designers. Her portfolio included print, runway, movies, and even her own calendar. Her impressive career broke down barriers for many who had come after her.

      He kissed Ana’s cheek. “You look beautiful, Ma.”

      His mother straightened his tie. “As do you.” Her Liberian accent was thick, soothing to him even at his age. “But I worry.”

      “Don’t. I’ll be fine.”

      She