“What do you mean, you haven’t yet? I thought…”
“I told your father I would think about it, but I’ve never really had any intention of marrying anybody—ever. I’m perfectly content as I am.”
“Then, why are you here? If you are not going to marry me, why are you here?”
He looks smugly past me as he contemplates his answer. “Because I want to be CEO. I’ve earned it. And I’ll marry you, if I have to, to get it, but I think there is another way, a better way.”
His words sting. It stings a lot to hear him say that he doesn’t want to marry me even though I don’t really want to marry him either. It still hurts though to hear a man who I thought at least found me attractive wouldn’t even consider marrying me.
“What was last night then? Why did you almost sleep with me if you didn’t want to marry me?”
He cocks his head and smirks at me. “I can fuck women without marrying them. And, if I recall, we never got around to the fucking.”
I wince every time he says the word fuck. I’m not used to men using language like that around me. Although it usually sounds sexy when falling from his lips, right now, it feels like a punch to the gut.
“Why were you at the casino last night?” I barely whisper.
“Like I said earlier, I didn’t go into that casino, seeking you out. Then, I saw you at that table, and I thought it would be fun to mess with you. After watching you for a while, I found that you were almost a complete contradiction from everything that I had known about you. You seemed confident at that table, sure of yourself. You didn’t seem like the naive young girl I’d thought you were.”
“And now?”
He sighs. “I still think you are a naive young princess.”
I glare at him when he says the last word. “You’re wrong.”
The waitress interrupts us, bringing us plates of salmon with asparagus. I lift my fork and dig in, just needing my hands to do something. Otherwise, I might just do something stupid, like climb over the table and ring Killian’s neck.
“I know that you went to Yale to study theater. Who does that? You don’t go to Yale to study theater. You go to Yale to study business or economics or finance—something useful. It just goes to show that your father paid your way in, and you could only make it as a theater major.”
He pauses to take a bite while I continue shoving my own food in my mouth, trying my best to remain calm and poised, like I’ve been taught to do.
“I know that you modeled for Seventeen magazine along with a slew of other teenage magazines. You’re beautiful, but you don’t have the look to do anything for more mature clientele.”
I take another bite. I feel the tears welling again, but I hold them back. Do not cry.
“I know that you haven’t been on a date in three years. That’s why you needed a release last night. I know that you have never made one goddamn decision by yourself. You want to know how I know that? You texted your father every five fucking minutes, asking him for advice.”
A tear falls, just one single tear.
“I know because you are the reason that this has gotten this far. If you had stood up to your father before he died, you wouldn’t be getting forced into a marriage you didn’t want. And don’t tell me that you do want this. I know what you were running from last night. It’s this. You were running away from being forced into an arranged marriage!”
I wipe the tear from my eye. “Stop!” I say a little too loudly. I notice the stares from the table closest to us, and I try to adjust my voice to not bring any more attention to us. “Well, you were running, too! I don’t have to have studied everything about you for three years to know everything I need to know about you. You’re an arrogant, bossy ass. Everything in your life revolves around work. You don’t date because you don’t have any time to. You just find any woman you can at strange bars to pick up and take home for one night. And, worst of all, you must not be that good at your job if the only way you can get the CEO position you are so desperate for is to marry the previous CEO’s daughter. And the only reason they chose you and not someone more qualified is because you are the only man in an executive position who’s anywhere near my age,” I say, having no idea where those words came from. I’ve never been this outspoken in my entire life.
I stare at my now empty plate that I didn’t even realize I had been eating.
“Feel better now?” he asks calmly.
He stares at me, completely unaffected by my words, which just makes me even angrier.
“Yes,” I spout.
He eyes my plate. “Glad you liked the salmon.”
“I did not,” I say, acting like a defiant child. God, no wonder he thinks I’m like a child. I act like one. “I mean, it was okay.”
His bottom lip twitches in a smile.
“So, what do we do now? What’s your fabulous plan?”