Page 27 of Due Diligence

“Liar.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh that’s right,” I countered with a laugh. “You don’t lie. You say whatever the hell you want, with no regard for how it’s going to make people feel.”

“This again?” she questioned. “Comeon, Marcus. How are you going to keep holding that over my head? Just suck it up, for crying out loud.”

“Suck it up? Nice. Said the girl who could only handle three months of law school.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. I regretted them in part because Cassie’s face suddenly fell in a way I’d never seen before. She folded her lips over and inhaled sharply, squinting her big brown eyes like she was on the verge of tears.

But the main reason why I regretted them was because when I said this to Cassie, all my staff still standing in the office released a cacophony of laughter and ohs at my remark. They giggled, covering their mouths with their fists, and generally behaving like we were a bunch of little fuckwits on the playground or in a Princeton eating club, ridiculing someone for no good reason.

She released that inhale slowly, breathing out as she stared at me. After a few seconds, she shook her head, not movingher eyes away from my face. As she watched me, she raised an eyebrow, before glancing me up and down once.

I felt vulnerable under her gaze. Small, as usual, even though I wasn’t. With one perfect, delicate hand, she adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

“Have a good weekend.” Her tone was smooth and even, as usual. If she was on the verge of tears before, I saw no hint of that now. Her expression was steely, illegible almost. Without another word, she turned and headed towards the door to the street outside.

“Shit,” I muttered as I hurried after her, rushing past my colleagues who were still tracking us with those obnoxious, elated expressions on their faces. “Guys, cut that out,” I urged as I shoved the office door open.

Outside, I looked both ways before I spotted Cassie walking to the right. She was a few yards ahead, moving briskly with her arms folded.

“Cassie!” I called out, even though I almost never shouted. When I raised my voice like that, a few passersby turned to look at me.

If she heard me, she ignored me. She kept walking, heading towards the crosswalk on the corner. I jogged after her, weaving past commuters heading in the opposite direction.

“Cassie,” I protested as I followed her. “I shouldn’t have said that. Please stop.”

Now only a few feet ahead, she glanced over her shoulder and made eye contact with me. Quickly, she faced forward again, visibly ignoring me.

“Don’t do this,” I said, wishing she would just hear me out. “Let me explain.”

When she was close, I reached out and I put my hand on her shoulder. Immediately, she whirled around and her eyes zeroed in on my hand. I pulled it back without instruction.

We were standing in front of a Panera, of all places. Seated at one of the window seats, a pair of teenage girls gaped at us, grinning through the glass. I looked back at them for a beat, acutely aware of the way they were chuckling at us. To them, this probably looked like some kind of lovers’ quarrel: me, the desperate goober in a button-down and slacks chasing after the sharply dressed blonde who was way out of his league. They probably thought she should dump me immediately so she could hook up with a Carnegie, like she was clearly destined to.

“Can we go back to the office? I just want to talk.”

“Stop following me,” Cassie said, either oblivious to our onlookers or unfazed by them. She shifted her folded arms, drawing them closer to her body.

“I’m not following you. I’m just trying to apologize.” I stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding a guy in a suit who clearly thought he owned the sidewalk. “Can we please just go somewhere private to talk?”

“Oh, you want privacy? That’s so cute. Yeah, let’s definitely go back to the office where your little troupe of cheerleaders is waiting to laugh at me.”

“I didn’t intend for that. I would never do that—not to you, not to anybody.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head, swishing her long hair away from her face. “I don’t need your apology. Just forget it.”

“I’m happy to apologize,” I insisted. “That’s what you do when you hurt someone.”

“Are you being passive aggressive?” she demanded, eyes narrowed. “Still? We’re just going in circles.”

“I wasn’t being passive aggressive. If you would just stop jumping down my throat every time I tried to talk to you—”

“Ohthat’srich. You think I’m the one jumping down your throat?”

“Honestly? Yeah. I do. You pretend I’m the one making this hard, but you’re just as eager to go toe-to-toe with me—which is insane, Cassie, because you’re not the victim here.”

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