“I told you I needed to think about my answer.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
“Marriage is a lifetime commitment,” she said. “And it’s supposed to be a partnership between two equals.Equals, Nick. I’m not so sure you see me that way. Not when you treat me the way you do, like I’m an object you can just move around as you please.”
“I don’t see you as an object. I can afford to take care of you. There’s a difference.”
“But I don’t expect you to take care of me. I don’t want to be a kept woman and spend the whole day at the historical society or the salon. I’m not my mother.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Finally, we agree on something.”
Jay set her jaw. “See? That right there. You have so much disrespect for other women. I don’t like it. I don’t want you talking about me like that.”
“You could dance topless on every stage from here to Vegas, little bird, and you’d still have more class in your little finger than that dried up old c—” Catching the dark expression on her face, he cut himself off. “The bottom line is, I’m not looking for an armpiece I can shut away in a drawer. I’m not my father. I want someone who can keep up with me, challenge me. Someone who cries for dying planets she’ll never see. I want you.”I always have.
She looked down at her lap. “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is.” Even though he’d lost his taste for it, he dipped a piece of fish in its pool of lemon butter. “How’s the carpaccio? Do you like it?”
“It’s very good.” She sighed. “But you don’t have to give me things to make me like you.”
He flinched and despised himself for it, because it felt like she’d won. “So we’re going to argue about the nail salon again, now?”
“It wasn’t just a nail salon. You got me a $20,000 dollar makeover that I didn’t want and then you paraded me around in front of all your rich friends as if I were a brand-new car.”
“And did you hate it?” he pressed. “When I clasped thatnecklace around your throat and you walked into that party on my arm, can you honestly tell me that part of you didn’t take to it as easily as breathing because you belong here just as much as I do?”
Jay didn’t respond.
But she didn’t need to, because he remembered that night perfectly. Until she’d decided to hide, she had been graceful and stunning. And when they had danced together—completely respectably—while the other guests looked on none the wiser, he had studied her in that shimmering dress that poured over her curves like tropical water and thought,this, forever.
He reclined in the chair, slinging an arm over the back. “What is it that’s really bothering you, Jay? Do you think I’m trying to mold you into a trophy wife? Do you think I’m not going to let you work? If you want to continue to be Arthur’s assistant while you’re with me, that’s entirely up to you. It really makes no difference to me.”
“You didn’t used to believe that.”
“I’ve changed. I can enjoy fucking you and buying you things—”
“Nicholas—”
“—and still see you as my equal,” he finished. “I know you’re not after my money. You’ve proven it time and again. But that doesn’t mean that you’re not free to enjoy it. I like seeing you happy. And,” he paused, “you deserve to be.”
Her face softened and he felt that tightness in his chest ease.
But then she said, “So if a woman marries a man for his money, she’s not his equal?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He slammed down his wineglass, splashing a few drops on the white tablecloth. “We’ll get a pre-nup if it bothers you that much, though I don’t see why it should even be relevant. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“It’s relevant because my being equal to you is apparently contingent on this completely arbitrary pedestal of virtue you’ve put me on.”
“Thereisno pedestal. You won’t even wear my fucking ring. Not properly.” He let out a heavy breath. “Maybe we shouldn’t even be having this discussion. It hardly matters what we do or don’t do if your answer is going to be no.”
“I haven’t said no. I just need time to think. Surely, after everything you’ve put me through, you can give me that?” She glanced at him, her face hot and flushed. He sipped his wine and decided not to answer. Jay, looking sorry herself now, said, “How was training?”
“Wonderful,” he said flatly. “They lectured us about microaggressions and then handed us all little dollies and told us about personal bubbles like we were all in fucking kindergarten.”
“Sensitivity training isn’t a joke, Nicholas.”
“Could have fooled me.” He topped off his wineglass, deciding he wasn’t drunk enough for this conversation. “They suggested I step down.”
