Have Me

by Anne Marsh

  When Liam gets up to speak, there’s an electric energy in the room. People watch him and hang on his words. He’s good. He talks about the power of science education and how every child deserves the chance to believe in spaceships and exploring new frontiers. New worlds, new journeys, new opportunities to learn. He shares how he was convinced that he’d move to Mars someday, and then he talks about Galaxtix’s work on a Mars rover and its plans to launch a private space mission in the next five years. He’s getting people to think about who might benefit from the foundation’s work, and I wonder how many extra checks will be written tonight because of him.

  It’s surprising, then, when the older man seated on the other side of Liam’s empty chair murmurs something to his dinner date. It takes me a moment to process what I’ve just heard.

  It’s a pity Masterson is such a wild card—unpredictable, and those parties, such a liability.

  Liam strides back to our table to thunderous applause. I’m tempted to elbow the complainer and point out that Liam totally rocked his speech. It’s also clear that he loves space exploration and Galaxtix’s mission, even if he self-sabotages.

  The old guy promptly gets into it with him, too. I try to pretend that the two of them are sitting in their own little bubble, but it’s hard not to hear what’s said.

  “I gave you exactly what you asked for, Malcolm. No scandals, just nice, wholesome romance.” Liam’s voice is tight with impatience. I suspect Malcolm has brought up Liam’s unpredictability again. “I’ve been a fucking saint.”

  Malcolm says something I don’t quite catch, but it sounds bitchy, unhappy or both. He’s not a cup-half-full kind of guy, that’s for sure.

  Liam sets his glass down with an audible click. “I won’t go any further. That’s nonnegotiable. She’s my wife and she’s exactly what you asked for, so show some appreciation. She’s settled, she’s the antithesis of Leda, and that’s what matters. She loves me. The press will love her.”

  It makes me uncomfortable to hear my relationship with Liam being discussed like this, especially since it seems entirely impersonal. Liam was perfectly clear when he approached me at the farmers’ market that he had a business agenda and that staying married would help, but I haven’t really paid too much attention to that since. That was a mistake. I’m the pretty wallpaper in Liam’s little redecorating project and not the love of his life.

  I can’t decide if I’m overreacting or not. Liam’s amazing in bed and he can be super thoughtful. Sure, he was aware of the monster crush my younger self had on him, but he’d pretended to be unaware because that’s what a nice guy does when his best friend’s little sister cranks up the idolatry to level ten. We’ve never talked about love. He’s never said that he loves me and I don’t think I missed that part of his conversation. Why would he mention that now?

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CRASH LANDING

  Liam

  SO THAT WENT to shit fast.

  Malcolm confirms he’s an ass by going off on Hana. She gives him a look that should eviscerate him and then excuses herself from the table. When he realizes that she’s heard pretty much every asinine word he just shared, he freezes, but just for a second. I’m sure he’ll claim next that it’s her fault she can’t take a joke. That he didn’t really mean it. Watching him scramble to cover his ass would be funny if I weren’t wrestling with regret. I’ve spent my adult life avoiding both regrets and apologies. But I have a feeling that if I want Hana to be in my life, I’m going to have to open the door to both.

  My phone is going nuts, but none of the messages are from Hana, so I silence it. I can’t believe I said what I did.

  Hana’s gorgeous. With her it’s an inside-and-out kind of beautiful. Leda had the supermodel looks but there was nothing attractive underneath the surface, and that matters. I’m fucking lucky Hana looked at me at all, even if she was doing it through bourbon goggles.

  First I got the earrings wrong. I should have noticed she didn’t have pierced ears.

  Then we got here and dozens of people had asked what she did, instantly dismissing her because she doesn’t pull down millions of dollars a year.

  And then there were the photos of her, and Malcolm pushed me and I lost it. She loves me. The press will love her. I regret those words. Yes, Hana had a crush on me for years. For the most part, it was painfully awkward and I tried to avoid being alone with her. Sometimes, I took advantage of it. I don’t think she still feels that way for me. Most of all, I hate that I took something personal of hers and made it very, very public.

  I look at Malcolm. “Do you want me to quit the board?”

  He pretends to be nursing his whiskey and water, but we both know he’s running the odds in his head on yes being the right answer. He hates me.

  “I want what’s best for the foundation.” He sounds as if he has a ruler permanently stuck up his ass.

  “Funny, that,” I tell him. I don’t think the expression on my face is any too pleasant. “Because that’s what I want, too. I meant what I said earlier tonight, about every kid deserving the chance to dream about exploring. For some kids, that’s going to be science. Other kids will pick a different direction. I’ve put a lot of time and money into this because I want to give those kids opportunities. And maybe I’m not a nice person or even a good person, but my personal relationships are no one’s business but my own, and I’m not telling those kids we’re supposed to be helping that they’re not smart enough or good enough or whatever adjective you want to use as an excuse. If my trying to help is hurting them, I’ll bow out.”

  Malcolm opens his mouth but I’m not through with him. “And you owe Hana an apology.”

  When he looks blank, I realize he’s forgotten her name. Or maybe he never bothered learning it. As far he’s concerned, her real name is Mrs. Masterson and her only value is as my wife.

  You can’t fix stupid, so I go after Hana.

  Hana

  Although the charity gala appears to have raised a significant amount of money in the name of elementary science education, no one looks happy. When I step out of the ladies’ room, still not sure what to think about Liam’s conversation with his asshole neighbor, Liam’s mouth is drawn in a tight line and quite a few tuxedo-wearing, important-seeming people are either scowling at us or ignoring us.

  “It’s like we’ve contracted some kind of super-nasty STD and they’re all afraid of catching it if they get too close,” I say, running my hand down his arm. Mostly, I’m trying to make him less tense, although I also like the way his muscles bunch beneath the jacket of his tuxedo.

  He surveys the room and I can’t help but notice that several of the other guests suddenly disappear toward the bar or the bathroom.

  “Are you trying to scare them off?”

  He looks down at me. “Keynote and then out. Shall we move on to step two?”

  “In the interest of not completely burning all of your foundation bridges, please and yes, thank you.”

  It turns out there’s a cable car stop not too far from the hotel where we are, so rather than wait for our town car, Liam suggests we hop on that. I’m game. Since it’s San Francisco, my fancy dress doesn’t even get too many sidelong looks. People are used to everything here, and one panhandler asks if we just got married, then beams at whatever Liam drops into his cup.

  It’s late, so the cable car isn’t jammed like it would be during the daytime. I guess most of the tourists are back in their hotels by now. We stand at the back, hanging on to the poles that are supposed to keep you from pitching out onto the street. I have my doubts, but Liam wraps an arm around my waist and tucks me between him and the wall of the car. At first we just ride, but the farther we get from the hotel, the more certain things bother me.

  Liam is smart, rich and generous. It makes no sense that the board of Galaxtix would try to force his resignation just because he throws sex parties for
consenting adults.

  “Why does Malcolm want you to resign so badly?”

  His fingers tighten around the pole. “Galaxtix invested quite heavily in Swan Bio. The company was poised to become the biggest IPO in Silicon Valley’s history. When it went bust, Galaxtix took a hit. Malcolm also had a significant position.”

  “Who founded that company?”

  “Leda.”

  “And he still thinks that you somehow scuttled her company because of a bad breakup?” Liam is rich enough that I suppose he might even be able to do it, but I sense there’s more to the story.

  “That’s exactly what he thinks.” Liam’s fingers tighten on the pole. “Leda and I split up, I discovered her patents were worthless despite her claims, and very shortly thereafter, she discovered that the funding for her company had evaporated. She couldn’t bring a product to market with no cash. Companies go bust all the time, but one minute she was the golden child, and the next minute no one would lend her a dime. Malcolm thinks that’s how I conduct all of my relationships.”

  I consider that while the cable car clangs its way through an intersection. “All of them?”

  He rests his forehead against mine. “Including ours.”

  Okay, so maybe I’m being paranoid, but that’s not a denial. It sounds more like a statement of fact and because that freaks me out just a little, I press harder than I might have.

  “But I’m not the founder of a Silicon Valley start-up. I’m just a small business owner, if we’re being objective. That’s stupid. You don’t have anything to do with my farm.”

  Liam’s silent long enough that my chest goes way beyond tight and threatens to explode straight on the spot. This should be an obvious answer. No, Hana, I did not do anything with my billions of dollars that would directly affect your business. I know he’s rich, I know that money translates into power, and I’m aware that he has far more influence than, say, an organic honey farmer, but I also thought I’d made my position plenty clear. I’m not for sale, no matter how good his intentions are.

  “This is where you explain why Malcolm has this mistaken impression, Liam. I know he thinks you’re a giant dick on principle, but this cone of silence you insist on living under isn’t helping.”

  I feel Liam sigh against my hair. His arms tighten around me, and I want to lean into him and forget this whole conversation. But I can’t. If he’s done something, I need to know so I can figure out my next move. We may have a connection in bed, but I need to be able to trust him when we’re not naked, too.

  “I own your note, Hana. I bought it a few days after we got married, before you agreed to a temporary deal. In theory, he’s entirely right. I could shut you down exactly like I shut down Leda.”

  I can’t even process what he’s telling me. No. I don’t want to. While Jax has made strongly worded suggestions on several occasions about paying off my mortgage and start-up loans, I’ve made it very clear to him that I’m doing this by myself. It’s great that he wants to be supportive—not everyone has family like that and it’s a gift—but financial handouts are still a no, thank you from me and he’s respected that. Liam, however, has completely ignored my boundaries.

  “Why?” I want to say so much more, but that’s all that comes out.

  Why do you keep secrets?

  Why did you think I couldn’t do this on my own?

  Why do you get to trample all over my boundaries but I’m not allowed to get close to you?

  “You were struggling. That made you vulnerable.” He glances away at the buildings trundling past the cable car. “It’s the carrot and the stick. I could reward you by making your financial shit go away, or I could use it to make sure you did what I needed you to do. But since I’d screwed up, helping you out seemed like the right thing to do and so that’s what I did. I know you don’t want my money, but I want you safe.”

  “By buying my farm?”

  “I bought the mortgage and I’ve already filed a satisfaction releasing the lien. It’s a gift. Like flowers. There’s nothing to be upset about.”

  “I’m not upset.” Lying liar. The cable car stops and Liam jumps down, reaching up to swing me to the ground. “I’m sad because we don’t get to be a normal couple. You have all this money, so you just go ahead and do whatever you think is best. You don’t have to check with me or anyone because it’s not as if we’re sharing a checking account and I’ll notice when a half-million dollars vanishes. Instead, you just do stuff.”

  He sets his hand at the small of my back. Lombard Street is famous—or notorious—for its hairpin turns. It looks like a dancing snake and it’s all uphill from here. Ugh.

  Liam looks at me. “We can have a joint checking account if you want. You can yell at me when I spend too much at Whole Foods.”

  “I don’t think that’s the answer.”

  “I want to fix this.”

  I believe he does, too. I don’t have any magic answers, though. We’ve kind of been living in a bubble these last few weeks. The sex is amazing and I’m not going to say I don’t love his house on Lombard Street. I do—because hanging out there with Liam is fun. It’s his space and it’s where we do couple things. But it can’t be all fun and games. It can’t just be sex and him buying me expensive surprise gifts like an entire freaking farm. He’s gorgeous and he’s amazing in bed. We have off-the-charts good sex and the kind of chemistry I’ve never felt before. It’s unicorn sex, something most people never find. It’s just that I thought our connection existed outside of our naked times, too.

  Liam’s so much more than my brother’s hot friend. He’s funny and thoughtful, even if he pretends he’s not. He’s generous and scary smart and, up until now, he’s made me feel safe. I’ve never thought he’d lie to me—but he has. I could have cut him some slack for buying my mortgage at the start of our relationship, but he should have told me so we could discuss how we were going to move forward.

  He punches in the gate code. “We’ll talk about it, okay?”

  “It’s too late for that.”

  He holds the gate open for me so I can go first. “I’ll fix this.”

  My chest tightens as if someone’s squeezing my ribs into my heart. “No.”

  “Hana?”

  “I don’t think there’s any fixing this.” I wave a hand between us. “This is something you shouldn’t have done, but having done it, you should have figured out really fast that you’d trampled on a pretty big boundary and you should have laid it out for me. You should have apologized, except you never apologize, right? I don’t see how we work because there’s not a we here—there’s you and then there’s me, who apparently you don’t think can handle her own business.”

  His jaw tightens. “I’m sorry if you find financial freedom offensive.”

  “It’s not the money, Liam.”

  “Then what is the fucking problem, Hana?”

  He really doesn’t get it. I’m not sure I did, either, not until tonight. He has all that money, and I don’t. Honestly, I’d probably have been okay with his helping me out eventually, but it would have had to be mutual. I have to be able to give back to him, too. He has to take my help. Otherwise, I’m still just his best friend’s baby sister and he’s just the guy I hero-worshipped. When we woke up married, I thought that was my chance to get to know him and to do all the things with him. Sex things, yes, but also date things, daily things, me-and-him things. I thought we were starting a relationship.

  “I’m tired of being a problem you have to fix.”

  “You’re not.” He rests his hand at the small of my back, urging me forward. “I like spending time with you. I thought we were having fun and that this was what you wanted.”

  “Yes. That’s true. But—” I fish in my clutch for my truck keys. “But I’d like to be more, Liam. No. Scratch that. I’d like to be enough. Just me, just as I am. I need to be an equal p
artner, not the lesser share of some seventy-thirty deal.”

  “Am I supposed to sell your mortgage to some shark of a lender so you can feel like a martyr? Is that what you want?”

  “No.” I start walking toward my truck. I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to leave if I go inside. Whatever stuff I’ve left in his house, it’s just stuff. It doesn’t matter.

  “Are you leaving me?” He sounds incredulous and that’s the problem, isn’t it? Whether he’s willing to admit it or not, he thinks he’s the boss, that he holds the upper hand in this relationship. It may be a benevolent dictatorship, but I can’t live like that.

  I won’t.

  So I give him the only answer I can. “Yes. I can’t do this anymore. You wanted a temporary marriage while you sorted out your business stuff, and now we’re done.”

  I have no idea what comes after a fake marriage ends, but I’m sure Liam will take care of it like he always does. It’s just good business.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  KNOCKED OUT OF ORBIT

  Liam

  LOMBARD STREET ISN’T the same without Hana. I manage to throw myself into work for the first week, which increases my bank account significantly but does nothing to make my oversize mansion seem less quiet. It’s no more than I deserve.

  She’s left little pieces of herself in my house. She has a drawer full of random stuff in my bathroom, and one of her ancient but beloved Santa Cruz T-shirts on a shelf in my walk-in closet. Her weird coffee pods for the Keurig. Some kind of Norwegian yogurt in my fridge that curdles my teeth when I try it. I don’t understand what went wrong, why I couldn’t fix this. The charity gala was definitely not a win for me, but the real issue seems to be my buying her mortgage. I turn it over in my head, looking for new angles, trying to figure out where I went wrong. I thought I was being nice and looking out for her. Or maybe that’s what I wanted to think. Maybe it was easier to give her stuff, to share money but not myself with her.