Page 62 of The Devil Gets His Due

“Of course I fucking want your hand there. I just meant…I wasn’t putting it there for that reason.”

“Graham,” I say quietly, “what else do you want from me?” And then I grasp him again, harder, and air hisses through his teeth.

“Everything,” he grunts, moving away. “But not when you’re offering it as a one-off.”

He walks into his room and I remain behind, breathless.

He just turned me down, but it’s not because he doesn’t want me. It’s because he knows he will want more than I will. He’s probably right.

I’ve never hated his practicality as much as I do right now.

31

KEELEY

Iexpect things to be weird in the morning, but they’re not. I’m running late, he’s cranky—business as usual. He offers to make Mark breakfast and suggests that it wouldn’t take me so long to get dressed if I’d just tell the office I was pregnant, though I’m completely hidden by a lab coat these days.

It’s like last night didn’t happen…except it did. And I can’t stop replaying it in my head. Big, lovely Graham with his sharp tongue and his constant disdain.

I never dreamed he’d want more than once from me. I never dreamed I’d want more than once from him.

And, goddammit, maybe I do. I doubt I couldevertire of having sex with him, and I like having him around. These weeks with him have been comforting and fulfilling in a way the weeks and years preceding him were not. But there are so many ways it could go wrong.

Anna Tattelbaum had him for months, probably. How many months? And how will she ever recover from the memory of it, when I simply stood next to him for thirty seconds and already know I won’t move forward?

“Will you be home at a reasonable hour tonight?” he asks, turning toward me from the blender, in which he’s crafting something I want no part of. “I was gonna grill steaks.”

I hesitate. “Not tonight. I’ve got a thing.”

A muscle flickers in his cheek. “Whatkindof thing?”

I wonder if he realizes just how often hegrowlshis questions. Because it’s a lot. And I don’t owe him an explanation, not after he shot me down last night, but I don’t have the time or energy right now to bait him, either.

“It’s my mom’s birthday.”

He turns fully, bracing himself against the counter. “You must know it sounds weird when you say it like that, under the circumstances.”

“It’s a séance. I’ve got her skull right here.” I pat my tote bag. I wait until he laughs before I shrug. “I’m going to her grave. It’s a pain in the ass because she’s buried all the way up in the Valley, but it is what it is.”

He prods the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “I’ll drive you. You shouldn’t be in your tiny little car on the highway.”

I open my mouth to object, but I like having Graham around. “I guess if you’re driving, I can finish telling you about all the people onGleewho dated each other in real life.”

His mouth curves. “Something to look forward to then.”

I laugh and I’m pretty sure only Graham could make me laugh on my mom’s birthday. It’s probably for the best that he turned me down. I might get more attached than I already am.

I geta lunch break for once, and I spend it online, reading about Anna Tattelbaum. She is everything I am not—she likes art and doesn’t go to fancy galas simply for the free booze. She is British, something I can’t even fake, and I know this because I’ve tried several times.

The sentence that stops me in my tracks, though, is this:Anna Tattelbaum, rumored to be dating hedge fund manager Graham Tate, one of the city’s most sought-after bachelors.

Graham is one of NYC’s most sought-after bachelors?How?Sure, he’s good-looking, but that kind of status is reserved for royalty or heirs to fortunes and he is neither. Which means it’s time to do something I’ve avoided for months.

Looking a man up online, especially one you really want to have sex with, is the slippery slope that leads to the Pit of Obsession. You learn one fact and you want to learn another. You see one photo and you need to see more. I sense, even before I begin my search, that my slide into the pit will be long and painful, and that I will thoroughly regret this later on.

The first thing that comes up is an article on “NYC’s Sexiest Male Singles”. They’ve got a photo of him looking bored and ridiculously hot at some charity function.

Graham Tate, the reclusive founder of Tate Capital, leads our list. With a net worth estimated at over a hundred million, we’d date him even if he didn’t look like the face of the next Tom Ford campaign. But he does. Therefore...Graham, give us a call.Anyof us.

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