Page 7 of I Almost Do

Marcus waves his hand. “I know that. But I also think the two of you are a good fit. In time, youwilllove each other. Clare is imminently lovable.”

I’m half in love with her already. It would take nothing for me to fall. The only thing I’d need to do is give myself permission—but I don’t trust myself to lose control like that.

“In the meantime,” he says, “while she’s still getting her feet under her, you could be her safety net. Her soft place to fall. I can’t leave her alone. I can’t leave her with no one.”

I don’t think Marcus realizes the pleading note that’s entered his voice. He’s never begged for a damn thing in his life, but he’s begging me to marry Clare.

The answer is yes, of course. I would never allow Clare to be alone or frightened if it's within my power to prevent it.

And I won't let Marcus die afraid for his daughter. If he dies—and I haven’t quite accepted that yet, but if he does—it can’t be in turmoil and fear that Clare won’t be cared for.

“I’ll do it.”

“Thank you—”

“If Clare agrees.”

“She will.”

“But, Marcus,” I warn, "you know what I’m like. I can only promise to be her friend.”

Marcus reaches over and opens a box of Cuban cigars I hadn’t noticed earlier. I’ve never seen him smoke before.

He offers one to me, and I shake my head. He proceeds to snip the end and light it up. At my raised eyebrow, he huffs, “What’s it going to do? Give me cancer?”

I don’t smile.

He looks back down at the cigar contemplatively for a moment. “She’s what you need, too, James. You don’t know that yet, but the two of you….” He holds the cigar between his index finger and thumb and brings the remaining fingers of both hands together, meshing them. “You’re like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that are made to snap together.”

For the briefest moment, a familiar spark of mischief enters his eyes. “You’re going to fall madly in love with my daughter.”

Marcus has always had an eerie ability to predict connections. To choose the exact right fit, whether it’s building a team or acquiring a company.

Just this once, for Clare's sake, I hope he's wrong.

4

Easy On Me

Clarissa

Istandinmyfather's study, my arms tight around his waist, and try to make sense of the things I’ve learned over the last two days.

Dad has been my entire world.I’ve built every piece of my life around him. And I’ve been his. And now… I’m losing him. To cancer. He’s dying. And I can’t even bear to say those two words out loud.

Dad wraps his arms around me, and I breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne.

He told me about the cancer two days ago. He didn’t tell me James was going to show up with a diamond ring until half an hour ago.

It’s an autopilot reaction for me to agree to anything my father could ask at this point. He wants me to marry James—so I’ll marry James.

Since his diagnosis, my father’s every thought has been for other people. How will the staff and employees manage? Has he done everything necessary for the people who rely on Harcourt? How can he prepare his friends? How can he make his own death easier on everyone? And, especially, how can he ensure that I’m safe and happy after he’s left this world?

The truth—that I will never tell him—is that he can’t ensure something like that.

But he’s got this idea that he can stop worrying about me if I marry James. In his words, it’s “the only way I’ll find peace.” He says James will “take care of me.”

I know I’ve been sheltered. But I don’t need or even want James to take care of me. That’s not how I picture marriage.

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