Blackmailing Aria [Book 1 of the Stavros Series]

4

For the next hour, I stay in the room that Xander led me to. I sit on the bed, staring at the wall before me. At times I'll catch myself crying, and then I force myself to stop and be angry at him, at both of them. That just makes me start crying all over again.
I knew Holden cheated on me, but I thought it was one time with one girl. This hurts so much more, especially because Sydney's my friend.
Was. Sydney was my friend.
Eventually, I can't take it anymore. I march out of the room and hunt down Xander, calling his name over and over again until he answers.
He nearly runs into me at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes are wide with concern, and instantly his hands cup my face.
"What's wrong?" His thumb gently brushes my damp cheek.
"Nothing," I lie. "Do you want to go get a drink?"
Xander's lips turn up slightly into a smile. "I know just the place."
...
This is where we met four years ago. The swanky bar that I didn't know was so expensive, but I didn't care. I was nineteen and I was alone in New York, feeling daring and wild. I just couldn't believe that they fell for my fake ID.
I remember sitting in this room like it was yesterday. The clothes I was wearing made me look completely out of place from the people in suits and dresses that were occupying the bar.
I didn't take notice of them, although one man took notice of me. His eyes would connect with mine every once in awhile as I sipped on my first martini. I didn't think much of him, except for when the manager tried to call the police on me for my declined credit card. He came to my rescue and paid for the three drinks I had.
I was a little tipsy at that moment, which is probably why I argued with him for ten minutes about paying for my bill. He argued back and eventually sat down next to me. Somehow, our arguing turned into a normal conversation and he kept the drinks coming.
"Looks the same doesn't it?" Xander pulls my chair out for me, motioning for me to sit.
"Why did you bring me here?" I spent four years trying to forget about the last time I was here. Now, the memories are flooding back.
Our laughs mingling, our knees brushing, and our eyes connecting.
Xander sits in the seat across from me, his gray eyes focused on me. "Because we could both use a drink. We also need to talk about what happened."
A lump forms in my throat. I have to look away from Xander to keep my tears away.
"I don't want to talk about it," I mutter.
"I deserve an explanation," he demands with a rough voice. I know if I look up, I'll have a pair of stormy gray eyes looking back at me.
"Why does it matter?" I laugh, even though I don't find it funny. I care, a lot. More than he'll ever know, more than he should ever know. "We only knew each other for three weeks!"
"That's what you think?"
I dare to look at him, seeing not only his dark eyes, but also a frown upon his face.
"I never stopped thinking about you over the past four years. You . . ." For the first time he looked away, looking at nothing in particular. "You were the first person to ever treat me like a real person, not a-"
"A billionaire?" His eyes connect with mine, filled with guilt. "Well of course I would treat you like a normal person. You never told me you were anything else!"
"I didn't want to," he admitted. "The way you argued with me, it felt refreshing, like new. No one other than my parents have ever argued with me before. If you knew who I was, you would treat me like everyone else." There was a look in his eye, a look that captured my attention and my heart. It felt like he was . . . begging.
"You could have at least told me, maybe not on the first day, but before I left."
My heart beats faster as I get more upset. Why would he lie to me about something so big?
Would it even matter to me?
"It would have been nice to find out that I lost my virginity to a billionaire, by you know," I wave my hand in the air, as if trying to think about answer, but it's only for show. "You telling me the truth?"
"I was going to tell you when you came back in the summer, but you never showed up." The look of absolute pain on his face hurts me beyond words. He could never understand.
The waiter comes just in time for our orders, because I have nothing to say in response.
"Mr. Stavros," the waiter greets with a grin to big for his face. "And I see you've brought a friend!"
I recognize him as the man who was trying to kick me out of this bar four years ago. He has the same signature white mustache, to match his white hair. Or what used to be white hair. He's completely bald now. The only hair I see is above his lip.
He's nicer now, his teeth showing in a kind gesture, unlike he was when I came here last time. I see now that's because I'm with none other than Alexander Stavros.
I don't follow along with celebrities all that much, but everyone has heard of the Stavros family. They've been around for a long time. Except they don't come out into the limelight that often. I don't think they've ever been involved in a scandal before.
I tell myself that's the reason why I didn't know Xander was a Stavros, especially the heir.
"Bring me my usual, and bring a martini for her." Before I have time to object on the matter, since I now think martini's are gross, the waiter is basically running to the bar.
"You know," Xander begins, running his finger on the glass table in circles. "I've been coming here almost every day, hoping to find you."
"Acquired a drinking problem did you?" I look him up and down, noticing he doesn't look like an alcoholic.
"That's usually what happens when your heart gets broken."
Oh, if only he knew about my broken heart.
"What do you want me to say?"
He looks up at me, his dark gray eyes piercing me to my spot. "I want to know the truth. I thought we had something, and then you didn't come back to me."
"Three weeks," I tell him, "we only spent three weeks together and  . . ."
I take a look around at the patrons surrounding us. Some are staring, which not surprisingly are mostly women. They make a point to give me the evil eye, daring me to make a move on the man they want the most. I lean over the table before looking back at Xander. I catch his eyes going from my cleavage to the ceiling. I try not to blush.
I whisper, "We only slept together once."
"Twice." Of course he corrects how many times we've slept together.
"Regardless," I continue, "it was a wonderful three weeks, don't get me wrong. But it meant nothing."
His eyebrow raises in curiousity. "Nothing? So you tell everyone about how your Mom left you after your dad died, and how you were bullied throughout high school? What about how your grandparents are losing their farm that you grew up on, and that's the only reason why you're going to college; so you can have the knowledge to keep it going?"
I slouch back in my seat. He's right. I never told anyone about those things, other than him. A stranger.
Those three weeks meant a lot to me. What was the most important part though was what I found out when I went back to school the following semester.
"Does your boyfriend know that you never wanted to study agriculture in college? That you only did it to help out your grandparents? Did you ever tell him that you really wanted to be an architect?" He demands, giving me the third degree, trying to get me to see that those three weeks meant something to me, even though I already did.
The eyebrow remains raised as the drinks are placed in front of us. I quickly take a sip of the martini before I can think twice about it. It might taste disgusting to me, but I need liquid courage to survive his presence.
"I don't have a boyfriend." I eat the olives off the mini sword, one at a time.
"So why did that boy call you his girlfriend?"
"The correct term would be ex-girlfriend." I take another sip of the liquor, wincing at the taste. "He cheated on me. With my ex best friend."
The eyebrow slowly lowers. He casually takes a sip of his whiskey that's poured into a cup with ice.
A memory of us drinking that in my hotel room comes back to me. I shake it away with another sip.
"You're lying to me," he speaks, pushing his glass aside. "About your feelings towards those three weeks and why you never came back when you promised you would. And I want to prove it to you."
It's my turn to raise my eyebrow.
"And how are you going to do that?"
"Be with me until Christmas. That's four months away." Once again, it feels as if he's begging.
I laugh, actually laugh. "And why in the hell would I want to be with you for four consecutive months? We hardly know each other!"
"You know that's not true," he growls. He's right. I hate to admit it, but he's right. I can't help, but feel comfortable around him. "Besides, I'll pay you."
"Pay me?" I look at him likes he's insane. I want to laugh. I want to throw my drink at him.
"Well, kind of."
"Kind of?"
"If you do this for me, if you give me a chance, I'll buy your grandparents farm and sell it back to them for a piece of pie."
"You're kidding me," I announce incredulously.
"You told me your grandma's pies are worth a million bucks."
I slam my hand on the table, but he doesn't even flinch. "I'm not doing this!"
"Fine," he mutters, taking a swig of whiskey. He slams the glass down, as hard I did with my hand. I flinch. "Then I guess your grandparents will lose their farm. I assume things are getting worse for them right? It won't last long."
"They don't need your charity," I seethe.
Xander leans across the table, and that's when I notice I've been doing the same. Our faces are inches a part, given the small table. I almost get distracted looking at his lips. He has a delicious looking bottom lip. So full, so pink, so-
"They need money," Xander corrects, a hard look in his eyes. "They're old, what happens if they get sick? And what if they already are sick? How can they pay for hospital bills?"
I hate how he's always right.
"This feels like blackmail." Xander looks at me long and hard, not saying a single word.
There's my answer.