Page 68 of Gifted & Talented

“Do you really want to be married tome?” Cass countered. “There’s a nonzero number of women in the world whose answer to life with me was absolutely fuck that.”

“Did you not think I deserved Paris?” asked Meredith.

“I’ll take you to Paris if you want,” said Cass. “Honestly, you deserve Bali.”

“I don’t actually care,” she admitted. “About the ring or the steak.”

“You should. The steak was the best part.”

“The sex must have been terrible.”

“The sex was great. I just happen to really love steak.”

“The sex couldn’t have been great.”

“It was great, I remember it.”

“Really?”

Cass paused. “Fine, I don’t.”

“I told you.”

“But the steak,” Cass repeated, “was sensational.” He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles, giving her a look that she understood was safer and better than passion because it wouldn’t fade. Because it was honest and self-aware, and could be trusted. “And I will love you forever if that’s what you want.”

“And forget me forever if that’s what I ask?”

She wasn’t sure why she’d said it.

“Yes.” Cass looked at her with a trace of a smile on his mouth. “Which is kind of better in its way, don’t you think?”

(“I’m not going to let you destroy me,” Meredith said to Jamie.

“I keep telling you, I know that,” said Jamie. “You’re going to save yourself, Meredith, because you can, because you always do. And don’t you understand, I really do love you for that? You’re a phoenix, you’re a fucking… I don’t know, a fire-breathing dragon. You’re Meredith Wren and you will save yourself. And you’ll do it in a way I can admire but not respect.” He drained his glass. “So I will love you, but not choose you.”

“Christ,” said Meredith, after a minute or so had passed. “I really, really want to have sex with you.”

“I know. I’m pretty sure I’ve been hard for the last forty-five minutes.” Jamie glanced at her with half a tipsy smile on his face. “Meredith Wren,” he said.

“James Ammar,” she replied. “Are we done now?”

He shrugged. “Unless you do something else I have to investigate.”

“So we can meet up for drinks again, after I take someone else’s money?”

“Speaking of,” he said, “how’d things go with your dad’s lawyers?”

Meredith scoffed. “Why do you care?”

“No reason.” He gestured to the bartender to close his tab. “I’ve just heard some things about Wrenfare.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Investigative things.” He winked at her. By then he was definitely drunk. They both were, not that Meredith cared to interrogate her state of mind at the moment. “Look, take it with a grain of salt,” Jamie said, and looked genuinely pitying. “I know how badly you wanted Wrenfare. And you deserve it more than anyone, but he’s doing you a favor in the end. Whoever takes over at this point is fucked, full stop. Wrenfare’s in a downturn andhas been for years—ever since your father replaced Merritt Foster with a revolving door of Harvard’s finest ass-kissers.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Face it, Meredith, nobody’s steering that ship to safety.”

Meredith fiddled with her glass, telling herself the pang in her chest was a normal one, a melancholic heart-pluck of wine rather than pride. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“You sure?” He gave her a look, which she chose not to respond to.

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