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Xander

"Iwant all the invites for the party sent out by this weekend," I inform my secretary.

She nods once before exiting the office. My head falls back and I let out a small groan. A part of me understands that I was the one that pushed for an expansion while also planning to take charge of the party, but it's really starting to feel like too much. I'm exhausted.

I understand people have this stereotype that most CEOs and presidents do a lot of work. We're glued to our jobs and we barely have time for much else. And yes, that was me for the first few years of my company's establishment. But they have thrived. I own some of the best hotels in the country.

I'm at the stage of my career where I should be taking a backseat and resting. Declan has had no problem on that front. The bastard's in Turkey right now on a mid-week vacation. Meanwhile, I'm here at the office at 10 p.m., slaving away. There's no reason I couldn't delegate my duties to some of my subordinates, but I might be a little of a perfectionist—and a part of me is worried I'm just using all the extra work as a distraction.

Juliette Landers.

The woman has been quite literally stuck in my head all week. And owing to the fact that I invited her over to my house tomorrow, I'll have to see her, and that will in no way help my fascination with her. I've been around a lot of gorgeous women in my life—supermodels, actresses, princesses. And only one other woman has been able to make me feel alive in the way Juliette has.

My late wife, Kathy.

I refuse to even consider the deeper connotations of that realization.

Just how much can she make me feel?

I get a text later that day from an unknown number.

Do the twins have any allergies I should know about?

Who is this?I text back.

Seriously? Honestly, you should have realized it's me.

I sigh, although there's a smile on my face.

"Why do you want to know?" I question curiously.

"I was going to prepare lunch for all of us tomorrow since I'm coming over. I haven't really had the chance to cook for them since you have a chef. Is that okay?"

"It's better than okay," I say quietly. I'm a little touched by her offer.

She's really good with the kids, and they're extremely comfortable around her. Even more so than Lisabell. I think it has a little something to do with the way Juliette behaves. She reminds me of Kathy sometimes, and I think the twins might see their mother in her as well. Plus, she's always talking to them, about everything. I'm never there, but the twins make sure to tell me all that happens. According to them, they like the way Juliette treats them like adults instead of little kids.

And now she's trying to cook for us. I don't think she realizes just how much that means for all of us. When their mother was alive, she always made sure to prepare a meal at least once a week. We all miss that.

"Great because I'm about amaze you all with my culinary skills."

"Can't wait."

"Xander," she prompts. "Allergies?"

"Oh, right. Mads is allergic to celery and coconut. Mason can't eat peanut butter."

"Celery, coconut, and peanut butter," she lists. "How about you?"

"Peanut butter," I inform her. "Same as Mase."

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Juliette."
The sharp trill of my ringtone goes off shortly after ending my call with Juliette. I check the caller ID but it's not one I recognize. But the person's calling my personal phone so it has to be someone I know.

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