Business Always
CHAPTER 9—AMELIA POV

It's been a couple of days since Jodie got engaged, and it's still hard for us to believe it sometimes. She's sitting opposite me, staring lovingly at her ring.

We're sitting in my office, eating some sushi for lunch, as I struggle to grab each morsel with my chopsticks.

"How's being engaged going for you?" I ask her.

"We're getting married in a week and a half!" she announces excitedly.

A piece of sushi falls through my chopsticks as I stop eating and look up at her.

"What?" She nods. "Don't tell me you're being serious, Jodie?"

"Yeah. I mean, why wait? It's not going to be any different if I get married next week or next year." She shrugs.

"But it's Thanksgiving this weekend," I remind her. "Don't you want some time to plan and prepare?"

"Not all of us have a habit of marrying billionaires, Amelia." She laughs. "It's going to be a small wedding regardless of how much I plan or postpone it—and it's not like I'll be inviting anyone except you and Jasmine."

"You're not going to invite your family?" I ask.

"You already know that's not happening." She looks straight at me. "I reached out to them after I got engaged and they acted like Leroy was the scum of the earth just because he wasn't part of a dynasty or a businessman."

I take both her hands in mine. "I'm sorry." I give her a look of sympathy.

Her eyes become teary. "I just thought they would want to be a part of my life for once," she says quietly. She pulls her hands away and quickly rubs her eyes, wiping the tears away before they even have time to fall. "Onto better news..." A bright smile lights up her face and if someone saw her now, they wouldn't even be able to tell that she was upset seconds ago. "Will you be my maid of honour?" she asks in a hopeful whisper.

"Oh my God! Of course," I whisper back in an equally happy tone.

"Yay!" she squeals, walking around the table to give me a tight hug.

"When is this wedding exactly?"

"Friday. It's at the beach," she says.

"OK, that's enough time for me to plan a bachelorette party," I say, and she winks cheekily.

"Do you have a dress?" I ask, "I'm going dress shopping with Jasmine tomorrow. She said if she's not my maid of honour, she's going to be my stylist." She laughs.

We sort out a few other details right there, including the food, music, and the rest of the things a wedding included. She wanted her wedding to be small and intimate, so it was easier and less stressful to get everything ready, especially since her wedding was in 10 days.

"What time will you be out of here?" Jodie asks. Her lunch is coming to an end, and we aren't completely done planning.

"I can leave with you around 5?" I suggest.

"I have a dance class booked for my bridesmaids. I don't know if you can waltz, but you won't be embarrassing me on my wedding day," she says. "See you at the gym near Jasmine's house at 6."

I throw my arms up in protest, but she walks out my office before I can voice my objections. Grumbling to myself, I start my work and watch the clock waiting for it to hit 5 so I could leave.

Although I was the CEO, I liked to stay at the office at the same hours as other people -it helped create a routine so I wouldn't slack off and skip work whenever I wanted to.

Finally, the hand passes 12, and it's 5 o'clock. Grabbing my handbag, I drive straight home, getting ready for my involuntary dance class.

Changing out of my restrictive office wear, I put on a pair of light Frey leggings and a plain black foodie knowing my regular workout gear would be too much for a waltz class.

I do up the laces on my sneakers and throw my phone, keys, and a bottle of water into my mini backpack. It would be better if I washed off the day's makeup too, so I go ahead and do that.

I arrive at the class a few minutes early, but Jodie and Leroy are already there. "Hey, Miss Davis." He waves to me from the other side of the room that's booked out for the class.

After I've walked up to them, I let Leroy know, "You don't need to call me Miss Davis. I'm Amelia. This is your wedding, not a business meeting." He smiles and nods to acknowledge what I've said.

The heavy double doors of the gymnasium open once again, this time Jasmine and Dylan walking in, hand in hand.

Right before the doors close, they are pushed open again and he walks in. Xavier.

A dark grey T-shirt clung to his biceps and the crew neck cut clearly showed off the tattoo displayed on his neck. I couldn't see it clearly before since the collar of his suits always covered most of it.

It's a scorpion that takes over the majority of the left side of his neck, its stinger sitting on his Adam's apple. I wince as I imagine how painful that must've been. It was lightly shaded with tones of red, but in a way that accentuated the tattoo rather than making it look like a tacky colouring.

His black sweatpants matched his black windbreaker that he was holding in his hand.

I give Jodie a look, asking her 'why is he here?' She tilted her head to face Leroy, and I could figure out that he was probably Leroy's best man.

We're standing in a small group, but before anyone could talk, the dance instructor is already clapping her hands to get our attention.

She looks older, probably in her 50's or 60's, with her almost fully grey hair in wild curls and her tall and fragile physique in a deep purple tracksuit.

I was so consumed in observing Xavier that I didn't even notice her coming in...

"Get in your pairs!" she shouts. She was a little too energetic for a Tuesday evening.

I groan as I realia me and Xavier were the only ones here who didn't come with someone else.

"Looks like we're dancing together, Miss Davis." Xavier smirks, dropping his windbreaker on the floor with everyone Eloise's bags.

"She said to call her Amelia. It's not a business meeting!" Leroy shouts from the other side of the gymnasium, remembering what I said earlier.

The teacher made us split up and spread across the space we had, so she could come to us individually and help us.

Xavier chuckles at what Leroy said. His laugh is deep, low, and sexy.

If feels like a swarm of bees are buzzing in my stomach, making me flutter at the sight

of him, but stinging me at the same time.

"Ladies, left hand on your partner's shoulder. Gentlemen, right hand on her waist," she instructs.

I inhale deeply, his hand slowly moves closer to me before it freezes. He gives me a look as if asking 'are you OK with this.'

When I nod, he puts his hand on my waist, moving it around a little until it replaces a comfortable spot a couple of inches below my bra strap.

My body jerks at his touch, but not because I didn't like it but because it was so long since I felt it, like quenching a long thirst.

Like it was back home, where it belonged.

I place my left hand on his shoulder, the thin material of his t-shirt giving me a chance

to feel the firm muscles in his shoulders.

We're a couple of steps away from each other, my eyes dart again and again between his face and my engagement ring.

Alexander's ring.

"Now hold hands at the height of the gentleman's head," the instructor shouts out loud, and then fixes Jasmine and Dylan's positioning and tuts to which Jasmine gives her the middle finger as soon as she turns away.

Xavier raises his hand, waiting on mine to join his. I lift my arm, much higher than he has to and our fingers interlock.

A current sizzles down my entire arm as soon as my hand makes contact with his. Goosebumps erupt all over, making the tiny hairs on my skin rise.

"This is called a basic box step," the instructor says, moving her feet to take a step ahead, then to the side whilst counting each step up to six. "Give it a try."

I look up at Xavier, hoping he understood what she was talking about, because I surely didn't, only to replace his head looking down, focused on our feet.

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on nov L5s.com for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading!

He's whispering '1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6' under his breath, moving his feet exactly the way the instructor showed.

"You can waltz?" I ask, sounding obviously impressed.

"Growing up in wealth, it wasn't unusual to take classes like these," he says lowly.

"Then why did you come?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Leroy was looking forward to it." He shrugs, a small smile comes on my lips at what

he's doing for his friend. "Now follow my feet."

Whenever his foot took a step forward, mine took a step back.

"Well done," he whispers. "Just imagine I'm chasing you and every time you back

away."

I let out a shuddering breath at his words, and the reality of them not only when regarding footwork. "Okay," I whisper back.

We start slow, doing one step at a time, but in a few moments, I catch the hang of it, and we speed up.

"I know she hasn't taught us yet, but I know how to move. You wanna try?" Xavier asks,

a smile playing on his face.

Right now, we're basically moving in a small square, but only in the same spot. "Let's

try."

"Just follow my lead." He lifts his head to face me, his dark eyes watching my face for a response. The way he looked at me made me freeze, and I could only nod.

We followed the routine I had gotten comfortable with for a few seconds before his

foot slid to his right and his hand pushes in on my waist to tell me that I need to move right as well.

We do that step a couple of times before he moves his other foot to the left this time and I quickly follow.

"You're getting the hang of this," he praises.

"I'm a quick learner."

"You two," the instructor says I guess it's our turn to get berated by her. To my surprise, she smiles and appraises us for getting ahead. "You just need to be closer."

She places a hand on each of our backs, pushing us intimately close to each other. "That's more like it. Carry on with the good work."

I look at him, his eyes looking down into mine. I looked back into his for a second, feeling strangely overwhelmed before looking back down at our feet.

The way we were moving reminded me of our dance at the American Business Associates Banquet, 4 years ago.

I haven't been back since, but I would probably be going this year since I'm with Alexander.

The instructor plays some slow waltz music on her speaker, and it takes me and Xavier

a moment to readjust our steps to match the song.

The instructor walks past us again, giving us a thumbs up. As she's about to walk away

she freezes, watching our hands.

"Your hands need to be like this," she says, putting both of her palms against each other and folding her fingers over. "Not like this." She interlocks her fingers like we did. She pulls out hands apart, and it feels more intrusive than it should have she's the teacher and is just telling us what do to, but it feels like she's pulling us apart.

I shrug after she's left and hold my hand out for Xavier to take into his, the way she showed us to. Dancing with him, in our own space to the soft slow music almost made me forget that we were in a lesson with other people.

I'm only pulled out of it when my phone, which I had placed in the waist band of my leggings, began buzzing against my skin. Xavier could hear the vibrations and he takes a step back.

I answer the phone-it's Alexander.

"Hey," I greet him.

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on novi L5s.com for uninterrupted

enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading!

"I'm going to be in the UK. I'm boarding my plane now. I'll be back on Monday," he informs me in his British accent.

"What? It's Thanksgiving this Thursday!" I whine.

"I'm sorry, darling. It's urgent, and Pyramid headquarters are in London."

"Fine." I pout and end the call. He was from the UK-he didn't care for thanksgiving anyway I tell myself.

"Everything OK?" Xavier asks.

"Alexander is in England, so I'm going to be all alone for Thanksgiving," I say because

he asked, but later think that he probably didn't need to know that.

"You can come over to my place. I have no one to spend it with either," Xavier says.

"My parents are in Miami."

"I want to host. How about you come over to my place?" I suggest.

"It's a plan." He smiles.

I don't know why I so easily and comfortably invited him, but I felt like this was a new

page for us. We were getting comfortable in each bother's company.

I try to slide my phone back into my waistband and jump in pain when my cracked

screen cuts into my skin.

"What happened?" Xavier's relaxed expression is suddenly alert.

"It's nothing," I brush him off, rubbing my back where the cut happened.

I lift my arm back so we can continue dancing and Xavier's eyes widen when he sees it.

"There's blood on your hand."

"What?" I turn my hand over to see droplets of blood on my fingers. "Oh, don't worry.

I'm fine."

"Do you at least have a plaster?" he asks, and I shake my head. He takes my non-

bloody hand in his and pulls me out the gymnasium, no one catching us leave. "Where are we going?" I ask as soon as we're out.

"There's a first aid kit by the door," he says, stopping when we reach the door and taking the deep green box with 'FIRST AID' plastered on it in big white letters off its hook. "Here." He hands me a bottle of antiseptic liquid and a cotton ball from the box and takes my phone off me so I can clean myself up.

I wet the cotton and try to feel for where my cut is, and the fact that it wasn't hurting made it even harder to pinpoint where it was. I continually wiped my lower back and checked the cotton ball to see it was clean, meaning I had wiped the wrong place.

Embarrassed, I look up at Xavier, under my eyelashes, who has an amused look on his face. "Would you like some help, Miss Davis?"

"I mean, only if you want to. Otherwise-" He shuts me up when he places two hands

on each side of my hips and turns me around so my back is facing him.

He sits himself down on the stool that was under where the box was hung and lifts my

foodie up, exposing my bare back.

"You couldn't get it because it's down here." He pulls the waistband of my leggings to expose the cut, right under them. "This might sting."

He pushes the cold cotton ball against my skin, I grit my teeth down at the burn. "Son

of a bitch," I mutter.

"How did you manage to shatter your phone like that?" he asks as he peels back a

plaster.

"I threw my phone against the wall," I mutter shamefully but honestly.

I was being too honest around him, for reasons I didn't quite know.

"Must've been a really bad deal for you to do that." He chuckles, rubbing the plaster to

make sure it's completely stuck to my skin. A shiver runs down my spine at his cold

hands.

"No, you bonehead, it was the other day when you called..." I shut up as soon as I realize what I said.

"Oh, that phone call?" He stands up, his mouth inches away from my ear, his voice

suddenly low and cloudy. "I must say, Miss Davis, that phone call had me quite flustered too."