I had to go with Sissy to the auction house because I was the official consignor of the Strickland lot, but even if I wasn’t, I would have found some excuse to do so. It wasn’t an excuse. It was Audra.

They were communicating with me, asking me whether I had a reserve price for this item, or preferred to let this or that item go through private sale over auction. I didn’t fucking know—surprise me? It didn’t make a difference to me.

It didn’t occur to me how involved I would have to be in this process.

Turns out, the art world was not as boring as I originally thought. We had just been there to talk about where the proceeds from the auction would go. I didn’t hear a lot of what Sissy and the manager Timothy Clapsaddle were talking about, but the part that did catch my attention was the figures they expected the sales to bring in.

He called the auction a personality auction, based on the previous owner of the items. I personally couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to take home a piece of Jackson Strickland, but luckily for him, I wasn’t trying to get my hands on anything from the collection. I owed half my DNA to the dead man, and that was more than enough.

Sissy had left earlier than me, and I’d talked with their manager. Jackson Strickland was gone. That meant the auction house had lost their greatest benefactor. He gave me the names of people who he probably thought would impress me; artists they had had selling exhibitions for and items they were able to sell for four, five, six-figure values. The fact that Dad had been as prolific a collector as he had been meant basically that people wanted his shit. His auction house wasn’t old or international, but it was respected.

It was also pretty profitable. I knew what Clapsaddle was trying to do. I didn’t know why he was telling all this to me instead of to Max, but I could see why. He didn’t want the establishment to go under or its reputation or whatever to sag because Jackson Strickland was gone. As he talked, I saw where he was finally going with his speech. He wanted the same generosity Jackson had shown them to continue in his heirs. I told him I would think about it and left.

Art. Never really cared for it. I owned some. People gave it to me sometimes. We’d paid an artist an arm and a leg to buy a whole collection to display in our New York office. Strickland’s was safe. As far as its growth, Clapsaddle had gotten me thinking. I had never bought land or property to develop into an auction house, not even a museum, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t. I was just spitballing here. Maybe there was something worth looking into. It wouldn’t be like starting a new business; it was already established. It was also—if Clapsaddle was to be believed—expecting a historic turnout to the auction of Dad’s old junk.

Besides that, of course, that was where Audra worked. And it was ten minutes from where Audra lived.

I had felt hyperaware since we’d walked into this place that I’d see her somewhere. I wanted to. This was not what you did when hookups went wrong. You moved the fuck on because there was no good reason to get torn up over pussy. None. But why was she insisting on being difficult? I didn’t do difficult. I did simple and to the point. Work was difficult enough. Negotiations and legislation; I liked to keep that shit out of my sex life.

I gave instructions and the person I instructed listened to them. Simple. Easy.

Audra was not easy. She was difficult. Therefore, we were done. She had tried to grab my hand while we fucked. This was why you tied them up. I would have, but that would have just taken longer, and I wanted to fuck her.

She was a smart girl; she knew what I wanted from her. She wanted the same thing. She was willing, but she wasn’t submissive. Or she didn’t want to be. Why did she keep pushing back against me?

I had wanted to feel her mouth, but before that, I wanted her pussy. She was fucking everything up. She had me here thinking of ways to get to her again. Thinking that there might be something wrong with me. That I had to apologize to her or something.

Apologize? Make it up to her? Make sure she still wanted me? Put my cock in her and actually, let her come this time? It had been years since I’d left a girl hanging. Years. I wasn’t going to start making it a habit.

That was it. I just needed one night with Audra to get her out of my system. Just fuck her again, this time right, and then I wouldn’t have to think about this anymore. I hated this. I hated feeling like I wasn’t in control. What was she doing to me? I was mad, and it wasn’t even at her. I was mad at myself because she moved; she didn’t listen, and my first instinct was to let her. Whatever she wanted, I was going to let her do it, and that… I couldn’t do that.

But what about for her, an unwanted thought asked? The answer to that… well, we’d find out as soon as I found her.

After another meeting with Clapsaddle, this time with their accountant, I walked over to where I knew her desk was. It was unoccupied. I asked a couple of people where she was, and they told me the warehouse gallery. I found it a few floors down and walked into the large, high-ceilinged room. I saw a lot of Dad’s dead animals in there. It looked like storage. I heard her voice before I saw her. She was talking to someone. I recognized his voice too.

“Max? When did you become a difficult man to find?” I asked him, walking over to them. Audra looked between us not saying a word. Whatever she was looking at suddenly became extremely interesting. Her eyes dropped like she was scared.

“Pot calling the kettle black? What do you want Levi?”

“I need to talk to you.” Max shot a look at Audra who was doing a good job at pretending she wasn’t listening to us. “Ms. Francini is working. She won’t miss you if we step outside.”

Max was like our father. He hated making a scene. He was an improbable mix of the loud, entitled rich man who wanted everyone to do what he said, and the guy who wouldn’t send a salad back if it had wilted leaves because he wanted everything to go smoothly. The man who would cause a media frenzy leaving his wife for his son’s Argentinian au pair, but wouldn’t say anything when a waiter poured wine into his lap.

He was mad, though and a little worse than our father was at masking his emotions. I felt the outrage rolling off of him as we made our way out into the hallway.

“What the fuck do you want, Levi?” he spat.

“Max, Dad was right. He used to say you were the only one out of us he could see himself in, and I get it now. You look like him. You sound like him. You even chase young girls like him.”

“Young girls? She’s twenty-six.” I kept the next thing I wanted to say to myself. He did like her. I could see why—anyone could see why—but the why wasn’t the problem. He was. I liked competition, but not this kind. I also didn’t like to think of Audra with another man, especially not this one.

“Hm. Meaning your age was already in the double digits by the time she was born. I thought you were seeing someone?”

“Who I see and don’t is none of your business. The relationship between Audra and I is none of your business.”

“Oh, Audra? Sorry, I didn’t know you guys were on a first name basis.”

“Why do you care so much, Lee? What does she have to do with anything?”

“If you’re losing work hours coming down here to flirt with young women, it’s a problem. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten the lion’s share of Dad’s business holdings.” Max’s face changed, morphing into a smile.

“Levi, if you like her that’s fine,” he said condescendingly. “I hate to be childish but, uh, I saw her first.”

“We’ve never competed for the same women, Max, and I am not about to start playing those games with you. Ms. Francini is working for the family. You’re just making her job harder than it needs to be.”

“Dad left you a number of responsibilities too, Levi. Why are you here instead of attending to them?” he asked.

“I was here discussing finance and expansion with the manager.”

His face darkened.

“I’m the owner; you discuss that with me.”

“Can you pencil me in? Is your schedule too full? It can’t be because you’re here harassing Ms. Francini.”

“Who’s harassing her, me or the guy who just interrupted her conversation?”

“Dad’s shit is mine till it goes to auction. You see why I have a good reason to be here?” I asked sarcastically. “Don’t throw yourself at her, Max. It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s not what she thought the other night,” he said. He saw it on my face before I could hide it. Shock. He had seen her? Socially? When? Why? He smiled triumphantly. “How’s later today sound for you? Come around three. I’ll pencil you in.”

I watched him leaving. When I had walked in, they were together. She had a smile on her face, and he was laughing. What the fuck was going on? I knew it wasn’t a relationship. No. That was off the table. They were friendly. Friendlier than I liked to imagine them. My chest felt tight. No, I wasn’t feeling jealous, I told myself. This was Max we were talking about. There’s no competition when it comes to the two of us. None.

Thinking about he and Audra together made my stomach turn. Beautiful women made bad decisions all the time, I mean, my mother had married Jackson Strickland. It happened. This, whatever this was was not going to happen. Max thought he saw her first? Too bad the decision between the two of us wasn’t his to make.

I walked back into the room. She looked up as I entered.

“Where is Max?” she asked.

“He had to leave,” I said vaguely.

“That happens a lot when you show up,” she said. What? Did she want to be there with him? I dismissed the thought.

“I want to see you again,” I said to her, cutting to the chase. She looked at me.

“Why?” she asked simply. This was the part when she asked me for the time and place, not the reason.

“Because I want to fuck you,” I said, coming towards her. She didn’t retreat when I did. Her hair was all tied back, twisted and tucked at the back of her head. She had glasses on which I thought made her look younger.

“You already did,” she said. She turned her back to me. I leaned into her, pressing my body into hers. I wrapped an arm around her to hold her still. I kissed the back of her neck. “Stop it,” she said weakly.

“No.” I spun her around, so she faced me. “Why do you keep doing that? Saying no to me is just saying no to yourself.”

“Why do you think I want anything to do with you?” she demanded.

“I don’t think you do; I know you do. You know it too. You’re saying no because you don’t want to feel what you’re feeling. You want me to fuck you. You want me to dominate you, make you scream.” She was shaking her head. “Remember what I told you when we were at your house?”

“I don’t want you,” she said. She lied. Her face was down as she said it.

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t want you,” she said again.

“Look me in the eye and say it,” I challenged. She looked up and leveled her gaze with mine. Christ almighty, what did I just ask her to do? Was she about to say it? I didn’t want her to. Jesus Christ, was she about to say she loved my brother? I watched her eyes, her breathing was steady, but she was biting her lip. I don’t think she realized she was doing it. It was distracting. She looked towards the ground again and sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you,” she said. “I shouldn’t have touched you. I’m… I can’t give you what you want. I don’t think we should see each other again.” She let me tilt her head up, so she was looking at me. “Please don’t,” she said. It was like the same halfhearted request she had made before, but her voice was tearful. Her eyes were glassy like the tears were coming any second. She cursed under her breath and pulled her glasses off.

“Why are you upset?”

“I don’t want you to…” she paused and looked down, sniffing. “If all you want to do is fuck me, I can’t let it happen again. There are plenty of girls who’ll let you pump and dump them. I’m not one of them,” she said. She was whispering. I saw her wipe her face. The dam had broken. Pump and dump. I know those words hadn’t just come out of her mouth. She felt used. She thought I had used her like a human Fleshlight and was done.

“Look at me,” I told her. She sniffed and looked up. Her face was coloring. Her tears made trails down her cheeks. I leaned in, gauging her response. She didn’t move. I kissed her. I let her open her mouth before I tried to get inside. I wanted it to be gentle, but having her that close to me with no one else around made it hard, and me hard. I pulled away from her. Her lips were still parted.

“Never talk about yourself like that again,” I said to her. I looked in her eyes, and I can’t say how much time passed before she finally looked down and wiped her face again.

“I have to get back to work,” she whispered.

“Let me see you again,” I said. I saw it in her eyes again; it was back. Hesitation. Was I going to have to beg her? Fuck that; I didn’t beg. I wanted her to say yes. I needed her to let me. To submit to me. She nodded.

“Yes or no, sweetheart? I need to hear it.”

“Yes,” she said softly. I kissed her again before leaving—that time on the forehead.

I walked back to the parking garage. It could have gone worse. At least she didn’t try to claw my eyes out if she was mad at me. Nope, she did something worse; she cried. I didn’t want to answer the question of what I would do to never see her in tears again because I was afraid the answer would be anything.

I climbed into the driver’s seat of one of Dad’s cars. He didn’t collect cars; he just had a couple. It was the Aston Martin 077. I chose it because it was what I liked to drive back in New York. Maybe Vanessa would like it when I finally went back. I took my phone out and dialed Max’s number. I waited for him to pick up.

“What?” he asked. I resisted the urge to say something slick about Audra.

“Where are you, I want to talk?”

“Work. What do you want?”

I put the car in reverse and stopped it, shifting back into drive.

“I want the auction house.”