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I grab my champagne and put my hand on her back, once again guiding her into the main part of the room. "Come, tell me what you think of the view."
"I’d rather talk about what you plan on doing to me tonight, actually." She takes a long sip from her glass, finishing it, and then setting it down on a table as we make our way to the window.
I sigh with frustration. "I want to talk to you, Grace. I want to apologize for what you saw on TV today. It’s a lie. It’s like you witnessing me comforting my sister back on her wedding night. It’s not what you think. And I don’t want to be judged by that woman’s accusations. At least…" I set my glass down and then cup her face in my hands. "At least not by you. I could care less what the world thinks, but please, don’t let that woman’s bitter revenge taint what I’m trying to do here."
“Why is she bitter, Vaughn?" Grace’s jaw clenches and her lips form a tight line. "What did you do to her?"
"Nothing." I laugh, a little bit uncomfortable. "I mean, I f**ked her a while back. Six months ago. And I did see her on the island a few weeks ago, but I made it very clear that I was done with her. We did not sleep together on the island. I just dismissed her and gave her thirty thousand dollars so she could move on."
"Thirty thousand dollars?” Grace asks. "You mean like the thirty thousand dollars you put into my bank account? Holy shit!"
"It’s not the same—"
"How is it different, Asher? Jesus f**king Christ! Is that your standard payment to keep people quiet?" She turns and slaps me in the face. Hard.
I just stand there. Stunned.
"You’re a pig, Vaughn. I can’t… I just can’t—"
She pushes past me, making a move to flee, but I grab her wrist and pull her back. "Stop for a minute. OK?"
"Why? Every minutes that passes you get worse, Vaughn. Everything I thought was the real you, it’s all fake. It’s all pretend. It’s all—”
I lean down and kiss her angry mouth. She pulls back and I let her, but I wrap my hands around her waist and press her hips to my groin, keeping her close at the same time. “Stop now. I heard you downstairs. I get it, I’m a dick. But I’m trying my best, Grace. I’m trying my f**king best to change that opinion you have of me. I’m sorry we started this relationship the way we did. I’d like to start again. So just be quiet and let it happen. Forget about the past. Forget about the money. Forget about the spankings and all that other shit. And just f**king listen to what I’m saying. Watch what I’m doing. And tomorrow, if you want to walk away after I give you my best effort, well, then go. I won’t stop you. I won’t come after you. I’ll respect your decision and leave you alone.”
“Ha,” she laughs. Her face is right in front of mine and I can see the panic building as she struggles to get free, but can’t. “You’re not f**king me tonight, ass**le. There’s no way.”
“You’re right. I have no intention of f**king you tonight.”
She wriggles in my hold, her little fists pushing against my broad shoulders. She’s small when pulled tight against me.
“But you will be in my bed. And you will let me make love to you.”
“Like hell,” she says, still resisting.
I stroke her cheek to calm her down. “Grace, listen. Just be still and listen to me. I like you. I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my life and I want to have something more with you. Now settle for a moment. Just get used to this. Let me hold you close.”
She lets out a long breath but she does settle against my chest. I wrap my hand around her head and bring her even closer. So her cheek is pressed against my suit coat. “I wish I could take this coat and shirt off and feel your cheek on my bare chest. I’d like to feel your breath as you calm down. I’d like to feel the thumping of your heart as it slows. But I’m afraid if I let you go, you’ll get away.”
She stays still against me, thinking.
“Will you leave me?”
“Will you leave me?” she asks back.
“Stick around and find out.”
“Fuck,” she huffs. “What the hell do you want from me, Vaughn? It’s not enough that you insulted me with your NDA, your money drops in my bank account, the public f**king on the island, the humiliation of making me blow you in my hallway, making me eat out of your hand as I sit at your feet, and then having to watch one of your many whores on TV tell me I’m breaking up her relationship. For Christ’s sake, what more do you want to do to me?”
“It’s pretty clear all that makes me a monster, right?”
“How the f**k could it not?”
“Did you like the sex, Grace? And be honest.”
“Yeah, I liked the sex. But a relationship is more than your stupid sex games, Vaughn. Life is more than the fun stuff. Life is the serious stuff too. And I don’t think you do the serious stuff. I like the fun just as much as anyone, but it’s another lie. Because if we were together, then most of our time would be spent having regular sex. Doing things like working, and cooking, and all that stupid bullshit that comes with a relationship.”
“How would you even know what comes with a relationship?”
“Says the f**king kettle to the pot!”
“Have you ever had a normal relationship? A long-term one?”
“Have you?”
“No!” I shout, making her jump. “No,” I repeat, softer this time. “That’s my whole f**king point. I want all that boring stuff and I want to try it with you. And you’re what? Too f**ked up to even hear me? Should I just put you to bed and try this conversation again in the morning when you’re sober and rational?”
“I’m not drunk. I’m just angry.”
“With who, though? Me? Because of the girl on TV telling lies about me? Because of all the fantastic sex we had? Because I gave you money to donate to your favorite charities? Because I won you in a game of baccarat? I mean, what exactly is pissing you off here?”
She laughs. Her whole body shakes against mine and she laughs. “You won me?”
“Oh, please, don’t take that the wrong way. Of course it was fake, Grace. A symbolic gesture between me and that Li character you were attached to at the hip. So spare me your feminist self-righteous bullshit. I can’t take anymore. You have no idea what you want. You want the fairy tale? The prince, the money, the fantastic vacations and travel? Private jets, probably. That’s fairy tale stuff. Stuff I can actually give you. So you say you want all that, but then when I offer it up, I’m using you. I’m disrespecting you. I’m—what were your words on the island?—I’m an Oscar-winning prick.” I let go of her and push her off me. “Just shut the hell up with your conflicting emotions for once, Grace. Give in and say yes. You never want to say yes.”