"As soon as Monday." He said confidently.
"Sounds great." I smiled, trying to keep a professional tone to our conversation. "We will start Monday."
***
"Cheers!" Trisha squealed as she clinked her wineglass against mine before taking an ample gulp of the deep red liquid. She sighed in delight and smiled. "I've been waiting to crack these bottles since last Thursday."
I smirked. "I bet you have."
"Hey," she barked. "Just because you don't see the reason to indulge in a celebratory drink, doesn't mean I'm as boring."
"Uh, huh." I took another sip and inhaled the scent of herbs and spice that wafted from the lasagna in my oven. I knew most people in New York used their ovens as a place to store shoes, but I couldn't get over how absurd that was. New York was expensive as it was. I couldn't fathom the excuse of eating out each night. Plus, I enjoyed cooking.
"Seriously, Olivia," Trisha took another sip before setting her glass down on the coffee table to add another coat of paint to her toenails. "You need to live a little more."
"I am living."
"No, you are existing." She argued pointedly. "There's a difference."
I sighed. "And how do you suppose I live?"
"How about dating?" She proposed and I cringed. "Trey is totally into you and he is crazy hot!"
"I don't know,"
"Oh, come on," She flailed her hand and I watched with wide eyes as the purple brush moved through the air. If she dropped it, and got the shinny purple paint stuck in the rug, I was going to freak. "You are twenty-two and you still haven't had sex. I have been waiting for years for you to tell me you finally let it go."
"Seriously?" I exclaimed. "That's why you want me to date?"
She shrugged. "Honey, I just want you to experience."
I sighed. "Maybe I'm waiting for marriage."
She laughed. She actually laughed at me! "That's bullshit and we both know it."
Offence burned in my cheeks as I stared at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn't elaborate on her comment, I spoke. My voice was thick. "Why is that bullshit?"
Trisha dunked the brush back into the nail polish and tightened the lid. "I think you and I both know you don't believe in marriage."
I knew where she was getting this...but, was I really so opposed to the idea? "No, I believe in marriage."
"You do?" She asked in surprise. Her eyes were wide. I felt as though I had grown another head for her to ogle.
"I don't know," I stood as the ovens timer chimed. "I don't believe in the kind of marriage my parents had, but who knows...maybe marriage isn't so bad."
"Okay, I can entertain you." She said as she followed me into the kitchen. "Exactly what kind of marriage do you think you want? Because I hate to break it to you since your parents really are totally and completely screwed up. But, all marriage really is is a binding contract."
"I know." I murmured. I shoved my hands into oven mitts and opened the door before pulling the hot dish from the heat and setting it on top of the stove.
"Well, what kind of marriage are you waiting for? Because, from where I'm standing, if you're waiting on marriage, then you're going to die a virgin."
I glared at her. "I want the union without the contract."
"Then, that is not marriage."
I shook my head and lifted my glass to my lips, downing every last drop.
***
I rode the elevator to the top floor, thanking small mercies there was no one in the confined space to witness my unease. It had been a week since I'd last spoken to Olivia. I felt as though I was starving for some sort of interaction with her. I hated how weak I had become since meeting her. It was as though she had my balls in her fist and I was helpless to go about my life the way I always had before meeting her. I wished I had never left the office early that Thursday. If I had stayed late, like I usually did, I wouldn't have seen her. I would still be the Jace Rush that used women for my pleasure without thinking of them again. It was difficult to admit, even to myself, but I hadn't enjoyed a woman's body since I'd met Olivia. It was probably why I was so damned irritable. I hadn't had release in a week, not for lack of trying.
I had even gone to the grand opening of my newest hotel I hoped to make into a chain with a supermodel I met while on business in Malan. She was stunning. I had wanted her when I'd met her in Malan, but for legal complications, I had walked away. I didn't usually consort with women who walked in my world. They were too educated. And, if I was being honest with myself, I knew they wouldn't be willing to sign my contract. They knew enough about my world to know, not everyone with money and power was as fucked up as me.