“It’s pretty clear all that makes me a monster, right?”
“How the f**k could it not?”
“Did you like the sex, Grace? And be honest.”
“Yeah, I liked the sex. But a relationship is more than your stupid sex games, Vaughn. Life is more than the fun stuff. Life is the serious stuff too. And I don’t think you do the serious stuff. I like the fun just as much as anyone, but it’s another lie. Because if we were together, then most of our time would be spent having regular sex. Doing things like working, and cooking, and all that stupid bullshit that comes with a relationship.”
“How would you even know what comes with a relationship?”
“Says the f**king kettle to the pot!”
“Have you ever had a normal relationship? A long-term one?”
“Have you?”
“No!” I shout, making her jump. “No,” I repeat, softer this time. “That’s my whole f**king point. I want all that boring stuff and I want to try it with you. And you’re what? Too f**ked up to even hear me? Should I just put you to bed and try this conversation again in the morning when you’re sober and rational?”
“I’m not drunk. I’m just angry.”
“With who, though? Me? Because of the girl on TV telling lies about me? Because of all the fantastic sex we had? Because I gave you money to donate to your favorite charities? Because I won you in a game of baccarat? I mean, what exactly is pissing you off here?”
She laughs. Her whole body shakes against mine and she laughs. “You won me?”
“Oh, please, don’t take that the wrong way. Of course it was fake, Grace. A symbolic gesture between me and that Li character you were attached to at the hip. So spare me your feminist self-righteous bullshit. I can’t take anymore. You have no idea what you want. You want the fairy tale? The prince, the money, the fantastic vacations and travel? Private jets, probably. That’s fairy tale stuff. Stuff I can actually give you. So you say you want all that, but then when I offer it up, I’m using you. I’m disrespecting you. I’m—what were your words on the island?—I’m an Oscar-winning prick.” I let go of her and push her off me. “Just shut the hell up with your conflicting emotions for once, Grace. Give in and say yes. You never want to say yes.”“God, how can you even say that?” She crosses her arms in front of her and rubs her shoulders, like she’s chilled. “I never say no. I always say yes. You’re the only person ever who makes me want to say no.”
“And why is that? Can you at least answer that honestly?”
She stops her rubbing and lets her arms fall to her side. And then she turns her back and walks over to the bar, grabbing her empty champagne glass along the way. She fills it up, takes a sip, then fills it up again and guzzles it down.
She places her hands over her face and drops her head for a moment, and I’m almost positive she’s trying very hard not to cry, but then she brings her hands back to her sides and turns to face me.
“Because, Vaughn, you scare the shit out of me. That’s why. You want honesty? Fine. You scare me. You were my dream guy, OK? You were everything I ever wanted. And you’re here and it’s not real.” She shakes her head, like the whole idea that we’re in this room together is incredible. “You’re here in front of me, offering me something I want more than anything else in this world. And I’m too scared to try because I know you’re not the dream guy I made you out to be. And I’m going to get hurt. And I’m going to get used. And I’m going to regret it if I let you in. Do you understand that? I’m going to regret it.”
“You’re setting yourself up to regret, Grace. How do you not see that?”
“You’ve been complaining about my fantasy since we met. You want me to be rooted in reality and not heap these expectations on you. So fine, that’s where I’m at. And that means this fight, Vaughn, all this fighting we do… that’s our reality. It’s unfortunate, but true.”
I sigh and walk over to the bar to pour myself another drink. I take a long sip, then guzzle it, just like she did a few moments ago. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Grace. We don’t have to make this our reality.”
“It’s a personality clash, Vaughn. It can’t be helped.”
I turn back to her, shaking my head. “It’s not a personality clash, Grace. It’s an issue of trust. You don’t trust me to be careful with your heart. I don’t trust you to be honest with me about your feelings. It’s got nothing to do with our personalities. Our chemistry is just fine. I really like you. I’m attracted to you in every dirty way imaginable. You say you’ve been fantasizing about me for years. You respond to my sexual requests and are willing to meet me halfway. You signed an NDA for me. So I know you’re interested. I know you like me. Why can’t you just admit it to yourself?”
She walks over to the couch and sits down. He head falls back against the cushions and she lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think it can work.”
“Why?”
“Because…” She closes her eyes and stays silent.
“Because why, Grace?” I take a seat next to her and pull her in my lap. She scoots down and places her head on my thighs and tucks her hands between her legs like a little girl going to sleep. I stroke her hair and wait her out, and with every brush of my fingertips past the smooth skin of her neck, I feel her relax a little more.