Page 140 of Due Diligence

“I do have a question for you,” I said.

“Shoot.”

“It occurred to me when I was walking home today that I’m unemployed for the first time in my life. I’m also a college dropout, not to mention a cautionary tech tale. I’m probably borderline unemployable at this point. I have literally no idea what to do with my life.” I reached out and I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “And then I remembered I have the attention of a brilliant woman whose parents cut her off when she was twenty-two years old, and somehow she figured out how to pay for her life and business school and to find a lucrative career—you know, until I got her fired for making out with a seller—”

“Hell,” she muttered as she groaned and pressed her forehead against my chest. “I had almost forgotten about that. Did youhaveto bring that up?”

“I’ll be telling that story to everyone we meet for all eternity.”

She narrowed her eyes lightly before she softened her expression and said, “I wish I still had the capacity to dislike you.”

Grinning, I pulled her close to me again as I let my hand rest along the line of her spine. “I need a job,” I murmured.

“Figure it out tomorrow.”

“But you deserve to be with a guy with a job, who can provide for you—”

“Stop,” she interjected as she placed her index finger flat against my lips. “I did not go to Princeton and Harvard to expect a guy to take care of me. Idefinitelydid not spend all these years paying off student debt to have you swoop in like some fancy, gilded angel and tell me all that hustle and struggle wasn’t even worth my time.”

I didn’t object. Instead, I pulled her closer to me. “I love you,” I told her. “So much.”

“Same, baby boy. Fucking same.”

I sighed. “I just feel like I could be doing more for you. Ishoulddo more.”

Realizing I wasn’t going to just let this go, Cass sat up. “Do you really want to talk about this now?”

“Kind of, yeah,” I admitted. “I’ve been working since I was eighteen. I’m somewhat of a workaholic. I don’t know if you know that.”

“I’ve surmised,” she deadpanned.

“Well, I don’t feel like I have an identity without Libra.”

“Why not? Libra was never your identity. It was what you did, not who you were.”

“Well, who am I?” I questioned. “I’ve been trying to figure out who I am if I’m not the COO, and I’ve got to be honest…I’m coming up short.”

Cass leaned down to kiss me. “You’re a guy who takes messy shit and cleans it up. And I’m a woman who makes a mess. We’re together now. It sounds like we’re doing exactly what we should be doing.”

I stared at her in the low light from my end table lamp. She looked so at home here in my bed that I was tempted to pinch myself to make sure that it was all real.

“You don’t make a mess though,” I responded. When Cass raised an eyebrow, I chuckled. “Well, not anymore.”

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I don’t. I haven’t since I met you.” Cass kissed me once again. “That’s how freaking good you are.”

I let out a sigh and shifted to my back so I was staring up at the ceiling. “What about you?” I asked. “What are you going to do with your life?”

Cass didn’t respond. Instead she exhaled out as she tilted her head to the side, watching me seriously.

“What?” I asked after a beat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She did that thing where she flipped her hair off her shoulder. “Look, I was going to wait to tell you this once I felt like you had finally decompressed from everything that happened, but you just look so sad.”

“I’m a sad guy,” I reminded her. “I journal and stare longingly out the window while I pet my cat and listen to melancholy jazz. I’m the poster child for sad guys everywhere.”

“You’re so fucking sweet, Marcus.”

“Sometimes.” I winked. We both knew it.

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