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“Is this some kind of dick measuring contest?” he asked, moving towards me slowly.
Admirable. He wasn’t running.
I cocked my head. “Me in a dick measuring contest with you? No, even I’m not that cruel.”
He flushed and I saw him hold himself back. That was a delicious part about all of this—he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. He was tied hook, line, and sinker by his daddy’s money. And his daddy wanted him to go through with this marriage to Clara.
“What is your problem?” he spat. “I’ve done everything that’s expected. She got her birthday present.”
I pushed my hand in my pocket, walking toward him until he was backed up to the door. His chest flushed between the collar of his shirt. I could taste his fear, rising off his body like smoke.
“The necklace you gave Clara was a fucking travesty,” I said. “From here on out, any and all gifts will be run by me first. I don’t care what it is. You send her flowers, ask for my approval and permission. Understood?”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened.
“You’re a little too protective.”
“It’s my job.”
“Are you the reason she’s still a fucking virgin at twenty-four?”
Internally, I reeled, but I kept my face blank. Clara was a virgin? Was that why she didn’t use my health insurance except for her occasional visits to the gynecologist? I’d assumed up until now that she was just using condoms when she slept with men.
I’d also assumed she was just shy about openly discussing the topic of sex.
She wasn’t shy.
She wasn’t anything yet.
The knowledge that she hadn’t had sex yet roused something ugly in me. Was she scared of Osian? Was he putting pressure on her to sleep with him? Anger simmered and I took another step toward him.
“How do you know she’s a virgin?” I asked.
He shrugged. “She told me.”
“Why did she tell you?”
“Because I’m going to be her fucking husband.”
Those words, for whatever reason, sent a wave of anger pouring through me. It was all I could do to keep still and not let my emotions show. He pivoted and disappeared around the corner. I remained where I was, wondering why my mouth was so dry. I pulled my hand from my pocket and opened it. Nail marks, red and sharp in my palm.
Right below the silver band of my Rolex.
I ran into Vincent on my way out and we talked for several minutes. He invited me to come spend a week at his lodge in the Adirondacks . There would be a lot of our peers there, all the prominent businessmen who mattered, and it would be a good opportunity to network.
Spending a week in the mountains didn’t sound bad.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll be there.”
“You’re free to bring someone. Maybe bring a date if it’ll keep you in line.”
“I’m not seeing anyone right now,” I said.
“You haven’t for a while.”
“Maybe I’m just getting too old for rampant sex.”
“I truly doubt that.”
