Sine Qua Non

Chapter Twelve

It was getting harder to remember why she wanted to push him away.

Last night, when she heard the creak of his footsteps outside her door while she was getting herself off to the memory of his touch on her skin, she had decided that maybe she didn’t care if he heard her. Maybe she even wanted to moan a little louder, so that he would hear.

The footsteps stopped and Jay had waited, but he hadn’t come in.

She knew he was listening, though, and no, she hadn’t been quiet.

All those poor nice boys she had dated couldn’t hold a candle to what she really wanted. Who she really wanted. A man to take her by the hand and hold her tight as they walked along the edge of what was safe and what was threatening.

A man would never let her fall but still made her want to.

Jay rose from her bed, folding her arms as she stood in front of her closet awkwardly. All of her things were here now and she had no shortage of clothes to choose from. After a moment of deliberation, she pulled a pair of galaxy leggings off a hanger that she still unironically liked, and a stretchy purple spandex crop top.

Since her hair was still damp from her shower, she tied it up in a high ponytail, using one of those soft satin scrunchies that were supposed to keep her from pulling her own hair out. The wet curls fell to the top of her spine as she released it.

She made herself her morning coffee, noting Nicholas’s absence from the kitchen. Was he in his office? Working? The door was closed and she wasn’t sure if she should knock.

(Men don’t like women who cling, Jay)

An image of her mother standing in front of her mirror popped into Jay’s head. She had been about nine or ten and it had been another one of those nights when her mother hadn’t come back at all. Upon her return, a younger, smaller Jay had wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist and begged her in tears not to leave her alone again.

But she did , Jay thought morosely. Every time.

A key rattled in the lock. Then she heard footsteps, followed by a familiar whine. Nicholas appeared, holding a brown bag in one hand. The other was clenched around Carbon’s old carrier, where the puppy peered out balefully.

“Oh, wow,” said Jay. “I thought you were in your office.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I was literally just about to make something.” Jay got to her knees as she bent down to the crate. “Poor baby, wearing the cone of shame. You took him to the vet?”

“Vaxxed and chipped. They managed to squeeze him into their very busy schedule.” A strange smile flickered over his mouth as he leaned over to unlatch the carrier’s door. “They think he’s a king shepherd, which means he’s going to be huge. His name is Maynard.”

“But he’s so little now.” The puppy bounded immediately for Jay, who lifted the dog aloft and laughed as it immediately began trying to lick her face. “I don’t remember agreeing to Maynard .”

“I paid for him.”

Jay scratched the puppy’s ruff, watching the dark brown eyes roll back in exuberant joy. “So because I wasn’t there, you named him after your favorite metal angst lord?”

“You remember?”

“Of course I remember. You’re always blasting Puscifer in the car.”

“I’m pretty sure I used to fuck you to it, too.” With his back to her, he opened one of the containers and began ladling out golden lentil soup. “Rev. 22-20 was practically our song.”

Flustered, Jay abandoned the puppy, who began to chew on the door of Carbon’s cage. She hovered uncertainly, watching Nicholas dish food out onto plates. Our song , gave her a funny feeling in her gut. What they had been doing back then hadn’t been romantic. He’d put the music on so their parents wouldn’t hear what he was doing to her in his room.

“You always did have bad taste,” she said lightly.

“Better than your 90s strip mall college rock shit.” Nicholas swung over the stool and patted the one next to him. “Come here.”

Jay sighed and stepped forward, grabbing a plate and a bowl. Even though her stomach was doing flipflops, she made herself eat, aware of his heated glances streaking across her skin like meteors. “If you don’t like Spiderbait and The Sundays, there’s something wrong with you.”

Nicholas chuckled, but it lacked the usual hard edge that his laughter frequently contained.

She wondered what it would be like when he came to her again. When she told him in the den how she liked to be touched it was as if she had unlocked a door inside herself and now that it was open, any manner of things could come tumbling out.

They talked a little while eating but Jay got the sense that Nicholas was intentionally skirting certain topics. When they were done with their meal, he pulled his mirrored shades out of his pocket, popping them on his nose with the same careless gesture that he’d been practicing since high school. It was much smoother now, but so was everything else about him.

But it also meant that she couldn’t see his eyes.

“It’s a nice day.” He cranked the air on, to cool down some of the midday heat that had built up in the car. “Maybe we can walk the dog later when the sidewalk cools down.”

Jay looked up from her folded hands, curiously touched that he’d thought of the dog’s soft paws. “You got him a leash already?”

“I got him everything. I’m thinking of taking him on my morning runs.”

Jay grimaced.

“What’s with you and running, Jay? I thought vegans were supposed to be health nuts.”

“I like hiking ,” Jay said. “I just hate how I feel after a run. I’m all sweaty, and I get stitches in my side—” She shook her head violently. “I’d rather use the pool.”

“One of these days, I’m going to use that knowledge against you, little bird.” He made a low sound, as if whatever he was imagining pleased him, and a little frisson of not-quite-fear trickled through her. “Use the pool, all you want. I might join you. I could help you with your form.”

“You haven’t been swimming lately,” she pointed out.

“I do it early. Before you wake up. I like it when the water’s cold.”

“God, why? You used to swim in the afternoons like a normal person.”

“Well.” Nicholas shifted his grip on the wheel, looking almost self-conscious. “You would read out by the pool in the afternoons.”

“Oh.” Jay stared out at where an old gas station had been, remembering how she had used to lie out by the water, desperate to get out of that house and her stepfather’s oppressive gaze. She’d barely noticed Nicholas was there at all. “God. I was so fucking blind.”

“We don’t have to talk about the past.”

But we can’t avoid it, either.

They pulled up at the dirt parking lot with a crunch of grit beneath the tires. Despite the late start to the day, they were still there early enough that some of the good spots were still left.

Sunlight speared through the live oaks, catching on silvery motes of dust. This time of year, everything was still mostly brown and dry, but there was still some residual green from the too-brief rainy season when the heat made plants hoard their moisture as jealously as any miser.

Looking out the car window, Jay spotted a manzanita, which made her remember the last time she had hiked down this trail. She and Nicholas had had a big fight, after which she had cried like a baby in his arms. Both of them were so broken that their edges had turned sharp; and just like that California boxthorn withering in the blazing heat, it seemed like every time they got close to each other, someone always drew blood.

She slid out of the car as the door opened—Nicholas holding it open, of course. The chime of the locks engaging sounded overly loud in the silent space, broken only by bird calls.

“How did the interview go?” Nicholas shoved his keys in the pocket of his shorts. They nearly hit his knee, revealing well-muscled calves sprinkled with coarse dark hair. Oblivious to the dark yearning of her thoughts, he said, “You were so cross, I wasn’t sure I should ask.”

“It wasn’t an interview, it was a meeting. And I was cross because you arranged that meeting behind my back by throwing your stupid weight around.” Jay kicked a big rock out of her path and then felt bad when she startled a little lizard into darting into the brush. “You’re such a bully.”

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

“I think that would be a conflict of interest.”

“I could ask Arthur.”

“Then ask him.”

Nicholas gave her a dry look. “Don’t you want a promotion?”

“I want one, yes, but so do a lot of people. Some of them have been working at your company for years. It feels wrong to get one just because I . . . know you.”

“That’s not why.” His mirrored shades flashed as he studied the landscape, a hardness to his mouth making her wonder if he had seen the manzanita, too. “I was given everything I had but I still had to work for it. That doesn’t mean I’m not worthy. It doesn’t mean that you’re not worthy.”

“It’s not the same.” Jay tugged on the brim of her hat with her free hand, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. “Listen, when I graduated from Cal, I thought I’d get a job right out of college. That’s the promise, right? Go to a good school, get a good job. But I had zero work experience and nobody wants to hire someone who majored in Sociology, even if it was at UC Berkeley. I ended up going back to school to get an administrative assistant certificate from a community college just so I could have a fighting chance in the job pool I wasn’t even qualified for. And I kept thinking, your father would have laughed to see me fall so hard. The girl everyone voted as ‘Most Likely to Succeed’ filing office memos for a company that sells soap.”

“It doesn’t matter what my father would have thought.” Nicholas’s voice was sharp. “He’s dead. What does any of that have to do with my promoting you?”

“Because you don’t really think I’m qualified for this job. You made fun of my previous one—you called me a cute little secretary who worked in a soap shop.”

“You are a cute little secretary who worked in a soap shop.”

Jay watched a ruby-crowned kinglet flutter by as it scanned the chaparral for insects. The orangey-red crest on its head looked like a dyed mohawk, and it looked so silly that she drew in a deep breath, her anger spiraling away as she remembered their winery date and how sweet he’d been with her. It gave her something to hold onto while he was pissing her off now.

“Why do you think I need help from you?” she pressed. “Why are you so busy trying to assign me extra value if you think I’m already worthy?”

“Because I think you’re fucking exceptional. Everyone in our family got to where they were by pretending to be something they weren’t. But not you. You never had to pretend to get people to love you. The only thing that ever held you back was you thinking you weren’t good enough.” His jaw set. “You might be content to sit and play the long con, but I’m not. Think of it as me accelerating the process so you don’t get stalled by your devaluation of yourself.”

“You told me it didn’t matter.”

“It didn’t then. Our parents were never going to let us outshine them. But things are different now. I can help you and I want to.”

A warm breeze ruffled their hair. Jay could smell the dusty sweet smell of the sun-dried grass and the crisp mineral bite of the earth itself. “Why?” she asked, suddenly needing to hear it.

“Because I love you.”

Jay stopped walking. His face was solemn—at least, she thought it was. She reached up and carefully removed his sunglasses, folding them into the neck of his shirt as she looked up into his familiar eyes with their shrunken pupils.

“I’m not sure I’m a good fit for this position.”

He stepped closer, and Jay felt the rough bark of a tree dig into her bare back. She wasn’t sure which of them initiated the kiss, but it was her hand fisted around his shirt, and in the thin, galaxy leggings, she could feel just about all of him riding up between her thighs.

“You’re a great fit,” he said.

“Nick.” Her forehead rested lightly against his as she spoke reproachfully, willing him to understand. “You can’t fuck me into this job.”

“I can coach Arthur on what to say.” He pushed back against her, driving her back against the trunk with his hips. “I can coach you, too. And I still have enough influence with this company that if I make my preference known, the hiring team will pick whoever I want to keep me happy.”

Jay took his hand off her hip and felt a flicker of defeated amusement when he pinned it over her head instead. “This is so fucked up.”

“What?” The words burned against her lips.

“Us. This. You trying to twist the arm of your hiring managers to get me promoted, and us LARPing through our parental abandonment issues with sex.”

“But it’s such good sex.”

Jay shoved at him with her elbow. “I call my stepbrother Daddy . That’s not normal.”

“So? Embrace it. Send me a father’s day card next time you fuck my brains out. ‘Thank you, Daddy, for always giving me that good dick. I love taking your big cock until I’m sore. Thanks for all the orgasms. Love, Jay.’”

Jay stared at him in horror, a rusty sound escaping her before she doubled over, laughing so hard that it almost hurt because she couldn’t stop. She was aware of Nicholas releasing her arm as she bowed forward, her face pressed against his chest. She felt it heave in surprise.

“Jay, it was just a joke.” He sounded concerned.

“No.” She pulled back, still wheezing. “Oh my god. No, that’s . . . so sick. Not funny.”

Nicholas studied her face, his smirk slowly returning. “Seems like you thought it was pretty fucking funny.”

“Only because it’s so awful.” Jay straightened her clothes and wiped at her eyes. “God. Why do I end up crying every time we come out here? I hate it.”

“Because you’re so used to being everyone’s perfect little angel that you hold everything in until you break.”

She eyed him. “I’m not perfect, Nicholas.”

“Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t stop you from throwing yourself up against that wall. In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s kind of your thing, blue jay. Punishing yourself.”

A branch snapped somewhere nearby. Jay hopped back unsteadily, breathing in a lungful of dusty, pollen-laden air, not realizing how stiff all her limbs had become. “I don’t punish myself,” she said hotly.

“Yes, you do.” He swatted at a horsefly. “You set yourself up for failure on purpose so you can tell yourself you never had a chance when you’re disappointed.”

“Thanks, Dr. Nick. What about you? You have enough baggage to fill an entire airport.”

He grinned again, revealing boyish dimples. “You’re so cute when you’re mad at me.”

“Oh wow,” she said. “That’s not problematic.”

“I’m not the one who’s trying to be perfect,” he informed her dryly. “I’m allowed to have flaws.”

“Oh my god.” She gave him a shove. “How are you this annoying?”

“Because I didn’t have you to put me in my place.”

Jay smiled reluctantly and his eyes lit with triumph.

As they walked back to the lot, Nicholas pointed out some wild cucumber and even though she knew he was manipulating her, turning up that charm full blast—that he didn’t really care about what the plant was—she decided to pretend that he did. She told him the name and that it wasn’t edible, and he grinned predictably when she added that it was sometimes called “manroot.”

He never used to smile , she thought wistfully, watching him. He was always so angry.

That was his flaw, she realized. She was terrified of disappointing people; Nicholas had decided that everyone else had already disappointed him .

They were two sides of the same fucked-up coin.

More people were on the trail now, including families. She heard the distant whoop and scream of kids, followed by the lower warning shouts of their parents not to stray too far. The parking lot was full to bursting and Jay hoped that none of those other hikers had been close enough to hear them on the trail, when Nick had been talking about father’s day and good sex .

A car slowed, noticing them approaching Nicholas’s Tesla. The lot had filled up while they were gone. Nicholas squeezed between a silver Mercedes parked beside them to open the door for her, waiting for her to slide fully into her seat before closing it again.

Like a gentleman , she thought, except that he wasn’t.

And she was starting not to mind.

*****

Jay couldn’t remember the last time she’d been inside a church but this one was filled with sprays of white flowers. The cloying scent of them was like drowning in perfume, and as Jay walked slowly up the aisle, she could feel herself becoming sick with dread.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life , a voice whispered as she stared unseeingly into the amorphous sea of faces watching her walk down the aisle. You’ll never be alone again, now.

She was wearing the dress her mother had gotten married in: a sequin-covered monstrosity that revealed more than it concealed, just barely clinging to her shoulders. Like mother, like daughter , she thought. Even the diamonds around her throat looked garish being paired with them, but they were real. She recognized them. They had belonged to Nick’s mother and during that benefit gala for sick children, she had worn both the necklace and the bracelets.

Now, they were hers.

Unwilling to look at her new husband just yet, her eyes swept over the church. It was Our Lady of Perpetual Grace, the Catholic church in Hollybook that none of them had ever attended. The stained glass was blinding in the sunlight, aggressively colorful even, and Jay, looking closely at some of the painted statues of the saints, noted both the flaking gilt and their blank, dead eyes.

“You may now kiss the bride,” said the priest, and her new husband lifted her veil.

Jay looked up, just as she caught a whiff of heavy, familiar cologne, and a hint of rot that not even the flowers could conceal—and let out a terrified scream when she found herself looking into Damon’s cold eyes, icy gray, but with a whitish glaze that could only come from death.

“Be a good girl,” her stepfather said, in his son’s deep, resonant voice, “and give Daddy a kiss.”

Jay shot up with a gasp, looking wildly around the room. Gone were the stone floors and varicolored lights. Greenish-grey light filtered in through her voile curtains, making the faded sunflowers stenciled on her walls shimmer. She straightened her tank top with a shudder.

It was just a dream , she told herself. It’s not real.

But thirteen years ago, it could have been.

Still trembling, Jay got dressed for work in a sensible A-line and a backless embroidered blouse. As she pushed her arms through the sleeves, she tried to shake off the filaments of nightmare still clinging to her skin like a spider’s web.

On the other side of the door, she heard Nicholas’s heavy tread. That man was like a bull, the way he charged up and down the stairs. Unlike her, he’d never had anything to fear in this house.

Despite the tightness in her throat, she still smiled a little when she walked into the kitchen and saw the sprinkle jar out with the butter. Nicholas was hovering over the toaster, in slate-grey slacks and a black shirt he hadn’t bothered to do up. She saw him stretch, almost like he was posing for her, and her mouth went dry as she watched his abdominal muscles flex.

“Nicholas.”

He looked at her, and both of them startled a little when the toast popped. He recovered quickly, giving her a slow, sexy smile as he picked up the bread and dropped it on a plate.

“You’re up early. You must have slept well.”

“No. I had a nightmare.”

Her voice broke into a sob on the third syllable. Shit—she turned away from him but not fast enough. He set the plate down to reach for her, and Jay surged forward, burying her face against the solid wall of his chest, and letting the crisp dark hair scrape against her cheek. The smell of him was so familiar. She’d never been able to eat or even look at a piece of grapefruit in the nine years she’d been away, but now, the sweet bitterness was like a tranquilizer in her blood.

“Daddy,” she said raggedly. “Hold me. Please.”

Above her head, she heard his sudden intake of breath. Then his arms folded his arms around her, squeezing so tightly that it nearly hurt.

He’s bad at hugging , was her distant thought, which made her sad, for him and for herself. With a small sound, she pressed harder against him, locking her hands over the small of his back, and pressing her mouth to the base of his throat, until his arms loosened reflexively and she felt his deep sigh as his palm smoothed down her spine.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, and a small corner of her whispered, yes .

“Your bread is getting cold.”

“I don’t care.” He petted her hair. “I can always make more.”

Jay pressed her hand against his chest once, lingeringly, before reaching down to do up his shirt as she took a single step back. The emotion welling in her throat was so thick she couldn’t speak around it, and her fingers were trembling so badly that she almost couldn’t fasten his buttons.

(I want you to feel safe with me)

He kept one arm around her. She could sense his concern as his fingers continued lightly stroking her spine. “Are you all right?”

No. I’ve fallen in love with you.

“Blue jay?”

She had flinched, startled by the blistering salience of that thought. So this was how he would do it. This was how he would cage her. Not with violence, but by her own betrayal of herself.

“Jay, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Tears had filled her eyes, as if he had summoned them there, and she pulled away so he wouldn’t feel her shaking. “I’m so afraid,” she gasped. “I’m so afraid . . . that you’ll become your dad.” I’m so afraid that you’ll hurt me if I let myself love you.

He flinched. “What?”

“I dreamed I was my mom—” She swallowed hard. “M-marrying your dad. But he had your voice when he—” She broke off. “When he said—”

(Good girl)

Jay turned bleak eyes on Nicholas. “I couldn’t stop him.”

I can’t stop you.

He took her hands from his shirt, holding her at length, and the strength in his hands and the look in his eyes left her unsure as to whether she wanted to melt into him or run. “It’s not real.”

She stared up at him bleakly, letting her shoulders sink beneath the unrelenting weight of his gaze. Her mouth still burned where she had kissed him, and she could still feel the imprint of his heart against her cheek. “You don’t get it,” she said. “That’s okay.”

His frown deepened. “Jay—”

“No. It’s okay. Like you said, it isn’t real. It was a stupid thing to get upset about.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said harshly. “I don’t think it’s stupid. I just don’t understand what it is you’re trying to tell me. I’m not my father, Jay.”

“I know.” She folded her arms. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Fine.” Nicholas turned back to the counter and scraped butter over his now-cold toast, before propping a hip against the counter to eat it. Crumbs and sprinkles fell in a shower as he tore into it with a viciousness that went beyond hunger. He was angry.

Jay steeped herself a mug of tea and tried not to let her misery show on her face.

He didn’t say much to her after that. But that was no surprise. He insisted she was perfect like a man who wanted his device to be top of the line.

But everything falls apart.

Jay looked out the window, studying the downtown area, and the buds on the leaves. The hand on her thigh startled her and so did the look on his face when he hit the brakes at the red light.

“I want you to come to me.”

To his bed, she thought he meant, and sharp words of denial were already forming on her tongue that he could be so callous when she was so fragile. “You—”

“When you have nightmares,” he clarified. “Come to my room and wake me. I sleep with my door unlocked—” She winced at that. “Any problem you have, Jay, I can make it better.”

Fiddling with the clasp of her purse, she said, “But what if you can’t?”

“I make it worse.” He tweaked her nose. “And then you forget about it.”

He smiled at her and she found herself helplessly returning it, despite telling herself that she wouldn’t fall prey to his charm.

You arrogant, frustrating, beautiful man. How dare you make me fall in love you.

She was doomed. He had trapped her, swinging the cage door shut the moment her guard was down, just like she’d been afraid he would. And when her heart inevitably broke like the clasp of her sad, worn-out purse, she really would be ruined. There would be no walking away from this.

She craved him like she had craved nothing else.

“I’ll come to you,” she said, and the light changed, so all he said was, “Good.”

But he put his hand back on her leg, and as his thumb traced the border between silk and skin, she could feel her resolve crumbling faster and faster, like cheap concrete breaking under pressure.

She had thought work would be a distraction but there was a tension in the office that she could feel immediately. People seemed agitated, and there were more whispers than usual. That perpetual knot of anxiety in her chest expanded painfully, tightening. Nobody was looking at her, so possibly it wasn’t about her, and as she returned the usual litany of smiles and greetings in the kitchen, she didn’t detect anything different in the way people were speaking to her, either.

Granola bar in hand, Jay sat down in front of her computer and let out a controlled breath, aware of Annica beside her. Nothing new from that department, either.

She watched her emails scroll in as she took her phone out of her purse to sign in through the 2Factor system. Then she sat up, as one of the subject lines caught her eye.

The open VP position had been formally announced at last.

That’s what this was. She nearly cried in relief. It had nothing to do with her at all, people were just excited about the role that she had known about for days, thanks to Nicholas. He had been so casual in his delivery that she was surprised to find that it was such a big deal.

All day, she heard speculations about who would get it, versus who deserved it. Some people were blatantly careless about their opinions and how loudly they spoke them. Jay noticed that, despite the many names put forth as possible candidates, hers was one that never came up at all.

And why would it? that voice in her head whispered. You’re nobody. You’re your stepbrother’s little whore. If they talk about you at all, that’s what they’re going to talk about.

Another email popped up on her screen. Arthur and Nicholas would be interviewing any candidates who expressed an interest in the VP role within the coming weeks. If someone wanted to apply, they would need to talk to their manager before emailing either of them to move forward.

Do I need to email you to apply? she asked Arthur.

His response was immediate.

No, Jay. :-)

She glanced up at Nicholas, who was staring intently at his computer screen. Obviously busy, or he’d be off in a meeting somewhere or bothering her. Maybe he was bothering Annica. Her seatmate had been typing away at her keyboard all morning. At one point, she’d even stepped away from her desk to take a phone call, which was a surprise.

Jay decided to get herself a coffee. The caffeine wouldn’t help her anxiety but it was balmy outside and the walk across the palm-lined street might clear her head. Better than sitting idle at her desk and pining after Nicholas like a foolish schoolgirl.

The relentless sun almost made it too hot for sweater weather but the back of her blouse was revealing enough that Jay didn’t want to take it off, fearing catcalls. She had forgotten how warm it got down here. Temperatures really didn’t fluctuate that much, this close to the water. In high school, she and her friends had spent most Friday nights having bonfires on the beach, toasting marshmallows and drinking alcohol that someone’s older sister or brother had procured.

As the sun melted on the horizon, they’d loudly declare their summer plans and sometimes even their adult ones. Most of them wanted to leave when they graduated, at least for a little while, because even a gilded paradise like Hollybrook could still be a cage. They talked about the houses they planned to own, the future spouses they’d marry: all of it had boiled down to a restless desire for more, to create their own little empire, to be just like their parents.

Jay straightened her blouse, making sure it was still tucked into the waistband of her skirt. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall of a building— cute little secretary —and flinched.

Stop that.

She steeled herself and walked into the same indie café from before, studying the patrons in a quick sweep. Except for a few well-dressed businessmen who had come here to work, the café was mostly empty. The only guy who didn’t quite fit the demo was a younger man, and he was sitting by the door with his face turned away. Her eyes lingered on him for a beat before she headed up to the register. All that mattered was, none of the clientele today were Tweed Creep.

“Oh hey,” the barista said. “You were the sprinkle chick, weren’t you? How was it?”

“Oh! Yes, I was but it wasn’t for me. It was for, a, uh, friend. He really liked it.” Liked it so much he thanked you for it on his knees when you got home and called you a dirty little tease. Jay swallowed hard, eyes skittering over the menu. “I’ll just have an oat milk latte today. For Jay.”

In her periphery, she saw the young guy shift in his seat. Jay turned her back on him, arms folded as she waited for her coffee. She was so on edge that she didn’t even notice the vibration of her phone, and when she saw it was her mother, she groaned and swiped “decline.”

Jay didn’t want to hear her mother’s self-serving apologies. They always turned into recriminations, anyway. God, if she had tried to bargain with Nick , he was going to kill her.

She could still remember the anger on his face when he’d come to her apartment.

That was not the face of a man who wanted to bargain.

“Oat milk latte for Jay!”

“Thanks.” She took the coffee cup and turned to the door, only to find that the youngish guy was now getting to his feet.

“Justine?”

She stiffened, looking at him cautiously. He was less young than she thought; the gelled hair made him look younger in profile but he was actually closer to Nicholas’s age, though not nearly so well-preserved. She stared at him longer than was probably polite, trying to understand why the pinched planes of his face looked so familiar.

And then it hit her. “. . . Jake?”

“You remember me.” He sounded so pleased that she immediately wished that she hadn’t. Nicholas’s weaselly little friend, the one who had squatted at their house all the time and stared at her whenever she was in the room. He’d been the first one to throw the rock at the cat that day, too. Probably, she thought uncharitably, because he had thought it would impress Nick.

Jake’s smarmy smile faded when she didn’t smile back, and a darker, almost defiant expression gleamed in his eyes when her gaze dipped to her throat.

“So the rumors are true. You really did come back.”

“Yes,” she said stiffly. “I got a new job.”

“Well, lucky you , having a swank family home to return to. Not to mention a booming family business.” He paused to scratch his nose. “I suppose that means Nick’s forgiven you.”

He must have seen the newspaper, too. “It’s been nine years.”

“So? Nobody can hold a grudge like Nick. Hell, he’ll fuck with you for fun, just to show you he can. Just like his dad used to do with his investors. He learned that from his old man.”

This was a little too close to the truth and it made Jay’s jaw clench. “He’s different now.”

“Not that different. You ruined his father’s name, turned it into dirt. He should hate you.” Like I do hovered unspoken in the air, and Jay realized with a chill that of course, Jake would hate her if he thought she was the reason that he’d lost his ‘in’ with Nick. “Instead, he’s opening his house to you and inviting you out to fucking black-tie parties? What the fuck?”

Jay drew herself up taller, and noticed that Jake was actually an inch or two shorter than she was. She saw the exact moment when he noticed this, too. “Did you ever think that maybe Nick didn’t approve of the scandal? He testified against his father. Provided evidence .”

And he hadn’t even told her about the rest—that he’d defended her name, her reputation. Quentin had been the one to bring that up, and Nicholas was not the sort of person to suffer a good deed in silence, but he had never tried to leverage any of that with her.

Never , she realized. Even when it could have helped him.

“Oh, that’s right, I remember. They made out like he was some kind of saint for doing the bare minimum. That he was so brave.” Jake’s lip curled. “But you and I both know that he never really gave a shit about anyone. Except for you.”

Scalding pain burst like hot fireworks on the backs of her knuckles. She’d squeezed her cup so hard that the coffee had spurted out of the lid, burning her hands. “Shit,” she hissed.

Jake watched her shrug out of her sweater, watched her set her cup down on the counter and grope for napkins. He made no move to help as she got to her knees to mop up the floor, and when she looked up, she didn’t like the look on his face when she realized he was staring at her back.

“I guess it does make sense, in a way. You two were always close.”

An ominous sense of dread dripped down her spine.

“Anyway, it was good seeing you. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you soon now that you’re back in town.” Fat chance of that, creep. “Tell Nick I said hello.”

With a final smile, he swaggered to the door like he thought he’d won.

A bell signaled his departure.

Jay waited until he was out of sight before grabbing her ruined sweater and what remained of her drink and hurrying out of the café. Her skin was crawling. A man shouted something at her from out the window of his car, but she barely noticed. Damon used to look at me like that , she thought, her skin going clammy. Right before he—

No. No, she wouldn’t think about that.

But this was just a taste of what awaited her if she did accept Nicholas’s proposal. Beyond the exquisite agony they brought out in one another, there was the judgement of the town to consider. The contempt and disgust would be bad enough but the sly, leering glances from men like Jake would be worse, because she would know what they were thinking. She would know and she—

Jay gripped the doorhandle to Beaucroft Assets and yanked it, letting herself into the building.

For a man who had grown up with so little physical affection in the home, Nicholas was very handsy. When he stood behind her while she was cooking, he would sometimes lay a hand on her waist as he asked about the ingredients or pestered her for a taste. If he passed her in the hall or she was getting in or out of his car, it wasn’t uncommon for him to catch her by the chin and pull her in for a kiss that left her feeling dizzy.

Too many times, she had stumbled into her bedroom after one of his kisses and finished herself off until she was squeezing her eyelids so tightly shut that she saw the burst of phosphenes, wondering what cruel god had forced them together only to watch them repel with the violence of two opposing poles.

Jay dropped into her seat like a lead weight, exhausted by the exchange. Her cooling coffee sat beside her like a stark reminder.

Her phone buzzed. That’s your third coffee break. I believe the employee manual says that you can have two.

Jay pursed her lips. After their charged interaction in the kitchen that morning, she wondered if this was his attempt to bring things back to normal.

Finished torturing your clients already? It’s not even 3.

He sent her three devil emojis. I’d rather torture you.

I’m sure you can think of something else to do at your desk, Nicholas.

That was a mistake. Her phone began vibrating incessantly as the screen filled with bird, eggplant, and sweat droplet emojis. She glared up at the mezzanine, where Nicholas appeared to be propping his fist against his mouth in an attempt not to burst into laughter.

You are such a child.

Come teach me a lesson then.

By the way, I ran into one of your old friends in the coffee shop.

In the corner of her eye, she saw him sit up. Which one

Jake. He said to tell you hello.

Van Hoff?

Yes.

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared.

He didn’t write back again and the remaining hours of the day spun themselves around her in a slow web as she tried to focus on her work.

Arthur said goodbye to her at five and the lights went off at six with an audible hum. Jay could hear the cleaners vacuuming the conference rooms on the opposite side of the building. Almost everyone was gone now, except for them, her, and Nicholas.

The sound of his brogues on the stairs made her hair stand on end. She wasn’t expecting the hand on her back and made a sound as she whirled around in her desk chair.

He didn’t smile the way he usually did. “What did he say to you?”

“Jake? Um.” Jay glanced warily around the office.

“There’s no one else here.” There was a bite of steel in his voice. “Tell me. Did he say something to you? Threaten you?”

“N-no, nothing like that. He just said a lot of really strange things about your father’s trial before implying that there were rumors about us.” She checked his face and forced herself to go on. “Did you really punch him in the throat?”

“He told you that?”

“No.” Jay hesitated. “Someone else did. I don’t remember who.”

“I did.” At her stricken expression, he chuckled grimly. “Some rumors are true, Jay.”

“I can’t believe you did that!”

“Yeah. I had to spend a night in jail for it. Dad posted bail. I was supposed to apologize but I never did and my father didn’t make me.” He flashed her a tight smile. “Can’t have the heir wasting away behind bars.”

“He said that?”

“Something like it, before calling me an embarrassment.”

That bastard . “You shouldn’t have punched him, but I don’t think you’re an embarrassment. Far from it, in fact.” She locked her computer and grabbed her purse, and so she did not see the way his face softened. “But this is exactly what I was talking about. All of this happened so long ago and people still talk about it. It’s going to be even worse if I say yes.”

“You’re going to say yes?”

His eagerness was like a knife in her heart. “I don’t know,” she lied, lowering her eyes and keeping her hands at her sides so she wouldn’t touch the ring burning like a drop of cold fire beneath her clothes. “Why did you punch Jake?”

“Because of what he was saying about you. I won’t repeat what he said, but suffice it to say that after that incident, nobody else did, either. Not in my hearing, anyway.”

“You must have still been angry with me,” she said hesitantly.

“I didn’t hate you.” Nicholas’s eyes cut away. “I never hated you. Everyone just thought I did. People would tell me what they thought I wanted to hear about you, trying to fucking ingratiate themselves with me, using you , and it made me want to kill them.”

“Figuratively,” Jay prompted worriedly.

He glanced at her. His gaze was cold and terrible. “Not necessarily.”

They walked out of the building side by side, close enough that the wool of his suit rubbed against her arm with every swing of his broad shoulders. The violence that ran through him was close to the skin. Sometimes she imagined that she felt the teeth of it. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“What are you thinking, Nicholas?” she asked, shaking that disturbing thought off. “You have the most terrifying look on your face.”

“I’m wondering if this is going to be a problem.”

“The Jake thing?”

“Yes, the ‘Jake thing.’ I ran into him myself not too long ago. I wonder if he’s following us.”

“He’s a creep,” Jay said. “But there are a lot of creeps, and we come from a wealthy family. That’s always going to attract the gossips and the bottom-feeders.”

“Bottom-feeder. Yeah, that’s exactly what he is.” Nicholas unlocked his car with a dark laugh, holding the door open for her. “But you’re more vulnerable than I am. Nobody would ever say anything to you with my name attached to yours.”

“It’s not the name I’m worried about. I don’t want to see the love slowly drain out of another person’s eyes when they look at me. That’s worse than being alone. It’s like being broken, slowly. I couldn’t stand it—” Not from you.

He closed the door and stormed around to the other side before buckling himself into the driver’s seat furiously. “I’m not my father. I don’t care about keeping up appearances. I thought I made it very clear when I punched that fucker who I was choosing when it came to you.”

“You did.” She spoke quietly.

He turned his key in the ignition. “I meant what I said earlier. I want you to come to me. For anything. Any time.”

Come to me . How many times had he summoned her exactly that way, expecting her to obey him? Somehow, hearing it as a request made it even harder to bear.