Page 82 of Due Diligence

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not?” he asked. “I think it’s all misdirection. Our jobs, the deal—yeah, that’s a part of it, but we could get around it by being discreet. And you can’t say that we barely know each other because there’snothingstopping us from getting to know each other. And now that I’ve dispelled the notion that I’m out in the streets hooking up with women every night, you can’t use that as an excuse. So that leaves you. What’s the real reason whyyoudon’t want to be with me?”

I didn’t respond at first. I couldn’t.

He breathed out, his expression earnest as he waited for an answer. Fuck, I knew I owed him that, but I couldn’t do it.

Marcus leaned forward and kissed my shoulder, his touch fleeting and gentle. “Look, I can take a lot from you, but opening my heart and then having you tell me you don’t want me because you simply don’t like me is going to wreck me. So what’s the truth?”

“The last time I was in a relationship, it ruined my life,” I replied, giving him just enough. “I can’t do that again.”

“Was it the guy you came to New York to be with?”

I nodded.

“I’m not him,” he reminded me, his voice softening as he spoke. “I’m just…Marcus.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t do relationships. Clearly, you do. So if that’s the case, this isn’t going to work.”

“I already told you I don’t expect a relationship with you. All I expect—and hope—is you’ll let me make you feel good.”

“And what if I hurt you?” I probed, challenging him. “What if you want to make this into a serious relationship, and I still can’t give you that?”

He shifted and oriented his body away from me. Silently, he leaned back against the sofa cushion and he watched me as hepressed his hand through his hair. He let out a sigh. “So, if I want to be with you, it has to feel casual,” he reasoned. “No expectations, just sex.”

“That’s right. But I don’t think you can do that.”

Without responding, he stood and picked up both glasses of wine. “Up,” he instructed. That tone was back—that commanding, orderly,I run this motherfuckertone.

“Are you mad at me?” I questioned as I followed him. “I’m just being honest.”

“And I appreciate that.” He spoke as he walked, not looking back at me.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone like you, but I have to protect myself in the process. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way,” I replied.

I trailed him across his living room and over to a bedroom. He flicked on the light with his elbow and motioned for me to enter before he closed the door behind me.

Finally, he looked at me and his countenance was neutral, almost flat. “Cass, I get it. I’m not going to fight you.”

I found myself standing awkwardly in the center of the room, unsure where to go. It was a stunning bedroom—minimalist and white. As a result, the only place to sit was on the king size bed situated in the middle.

Marcus put the glasses of wine down on his nightstand and pulled open the drawer. It rolled quietly, whispering of quality—not like the rickety old nightstand I picked up on someone’s curb. From the nightstand, he took out a small, black booklet and sat down on the bed. He didn’t look at me.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“My checkbook,” he replied as he opened it. He scribbled something on a check and ripped it off the pad. “Here.” Without getting up, he held it out to me. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Confusion passed over me like a gentle rolling fog. My eyes traveled from his outstretched hand to his face. His expression was still stony—impossible to decipher. Slowly, my face folded into a frown. “Excuse me?”

“You want to fuck me without worrying about feelings,” he explained, his gaze unwavering. “So, I’m giving you exactly what you want.”

“Did you just write me a check?”

Wordlessly, Marcus nodded.

“Fuck you,” I snapped, rage building in me at the notion.

He walked over to me, folding the check in half as he went. His eyes remained locked on me the entire time, feasting on me. Appraising my body. When he was standing in front of me, he held up the folded check between his index and middle fingers.

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