Trois

Xander Hayes

The door slammed, echoing against the morning silence as I hopped from the driver's side of the Audi A8 L, Peter Monroe's preferred vehicle for transport. Three months into this job and I still can't get a hang of not being early. I guess it's just stuck with me after spending all those years in my line of work. Besides, I know firsthand not to keep bosses waiting.

It's seven something, close to the time for Peter to make his rounds to his famous French cafe in the quarter. It surprises me how this man has half an acre of kitchen at his discretion and still doesn't eat at home. After breakfast, was a big meeting with a fundraising committee for an event that was going to be held at his compound. Should be a smooth day.

I flicked my wrist to look at the time and propped up against the car. Maybe being early wasn't so bad, after all, the field workers weren't out yet. That gave me plenty of time to admire Lavigne and all its natural glory. And most importantly, I had a high chance of not running into her highness again. It was bad enough she was doing something her father wouldn't approve of, but then I had to sneak her drunk ass up to her room without anyone knowing.

The last thing I needed was her spewing some nonsense to her dad if he found out I was up there. I've been alive long enough to know that a man is unpredictable when he suspects his daughter's chastity is soiled. Peter Monroe seemed to love his.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Peter was scaling the grass path over to where I parked. His face was sour, grey tuxedo outfit sharp. He looked terrifying. Anyone else would cower away but I was used to rich and powerful men. And k was able to tell the difference between the two.

I tipped my head gently when he got close. "Good morning, Mr. Monroe."

"Only you'd know how good the morning is Xander. By the looks of it, you rose with the sun." He chuckled barely. I frowned. What the hell made him so happy? 

"It's better early than late sir, shall we?" I gestured for the door at the passenger's side. As soon as I was about to open it, he raised his hand to stop me.

"No need Xander, you can leave."

"Leave? What do you mean?" I kept my voice flat, my face concealing the real questions. Like: What the fuck was going on? Is he firing me? Did he find out I helped his daughter? Did he know where I came from?

"You can leave for the day. There's no need for me to go out today." He explained. 

My body heaved knowing that it wasn't any of the things that ran through my mind. That made more sense. I frowned, what could make the chief of hard labor not work today? "Is there something wrong, sir?" 

"That would be my business, wouldn't it Xander?"

His lips twitched. I could see why I will never like this guy. Dick. A beat passed with heavy silence in between. I had nothing to say to him, nothing that wouldn't get me thrown out on my ass anyway.

He misread my reluctance. "Don't worry boy, you'll be paid for today. Maybe you need to read your contract in full."

My response, if there was ever going to be one, died down in my throat as something on the other side of the lawn caught my attention.

A flash of bronze hair and caramel skin behind the luxury E-Class Mercedes that could only belong to one person. It seems she wasn't done playing hide and seek with her father. Based on her state last night, I thought she’d have a killer hangover.

"Leah! Is that you?" Peter called out. The place went dead silent except for the twittering of the birds. After what seemed like forever, she shifted behind the bumper before finally standing. Now that he definitely saw her, she couldn't hide. Why was he even hiding from him in the first place?

I watched as she approached us. A sprinkle of seven o'clock shine adorning her face. And all I could think about at that moment was how breathtaking it was. Five months in solitude didn't do her justice. Leah Monroe lived in a whole other world than mine but I wouldn't be French if I didn't know her. Over the years I've only seen the princess of the wine industry from TV screens and the front cover of magazines. 

Everything about her was perfect, her dazed ruby green eyes and bronze locks that took the burn of autumn leaves, even the tight pucker of her rosy lips. The HD pixels had never done her any justice. She was so gorgeous, especially with that deer caught in headlights look on her face. But I had my fair share of beautiful women, all of them left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I took my eyes off her so Peter wouldn't get suspicious.

"Hi, dad." She looked so uncomfortable as Peter caught her hand and pulled her in an embrace.

"Sweetheart, where have you been hiding? Your Gaga told me your flight arrived yesterday, why didn't you tell me?"

"I took the bus dad. People do it all the time."

Peter snorted. "People. Not my daughter."

"I'm a big girl dad, I found my way home. Besides, I was too busy sleeping off my jetlag to be decent company." She was lying through her teeth and she made it look too easy. Just then she stole a sideways glance at me, the pointed look in her eyes sending a clear message, shut up or else.

Some twisted part of me wanted to know what she'd do if I told her dad that she wasn't sleeping or jet lagged for that matter. Something told me that she was a firecracker, someone just needed to light her fuse. I bit down on my lip, letting her highness spin her web of lies.

"Nevertheless you look well, Gaga's recipes did wonders for you.” Peter continued, then held her at arms length now, the pleated peach dress she wore shimmied with his movement. “The end of summer masquerade will be a great way to showcase your beauty." 

The already dim light in her eyes faded even more. She did well to mask it with a small smile. "I can't wait." She forced out. 

"Good because it's sooner than you think." Peter smiled down at his daughter but even with that kilowatt grin, Leah didn't budge. Was I missing something? According to the tabloids their bond was stronger than ever, especially now since her mom died. Someone obviously got it wrong somewhere. Or maybe they were too much alike that they couldn't bear each other's presence.

He shifted his attention to me. "Oh. This is Xander Hayes. My driver, he started here a couple weeks after you left."

She nodded politely. "Nice to meet you Mr. Hayes."

"Likewise Ms. Monroe." She stretched out that perfectly thin hand to me. And the moment our hands touched, I regretted it. The contact was like a vice grip to my heart and my eyes flicked to hers. If she felt anything she did a great job of keeping it hidden. I cleared my throat. Anything more shameless than mowing down an unsuspecting girl with your eyes, it was doing it next to her father.

"I trust my father has been accommodating." Her voice was firm. A lot different than yesterday, albeit more trained than I thought she could be. Oh how she changed when her father was around.

“What do you take me for princess? I'm always on my best behavior.” Peter said, his voice fading in the background the longer Leah’s hand was in my grasp. 

“Tell that to anyone else who is not me, anciano.” She joked, a shimmer of light returned to her face. I deserved a medal for keeping my face straight right now despite the tightness in my stomach. 

“Old? Who are you calling old? I told mama not to teach you all of those fancy spanish words so you can use them against me.” 

She slowly slid her hand from mine to continue teasing her father. “You’re pushing 50 of course you are.” 

“Then you’d have no problem with why I called you home.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter threw me a sideways glance, telling me that answer wasn't for my ears. “We’ll discuss it over breakfast.”

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Hayes. I’ll see you around the compound.” 

I watched them walk away with a strange feeling developing in my chest. I knew that I was going to have a lot of run-ins with Leah when I took this job. Now that I saw her in action, I learned two things. She was great at lying and an alcoholic. 

It didn’t matter though, I plan on staying as far away from her as possible. The prettier the flower, the more lethal the poison. That I know from experience. 

I turn back to the car. Now that I was off the hook for the day, what the heck was I supposed to do?