“I don’t like being someone’s dirty little secret.” Her voice broke a little as she added, “But there’s really no reason to pretend that this was more than what it was.”
“But…”
The words ‘I love you’ stuck in my throat and I couldn’t do anything but stare at her.
“Have a nice life, Nicole. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for us to win that job.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “It was a joint project, and we all did our best against almost impossible odds.”
She shrugged. I didn’t recognize this dull, lifeless version of Grace. She seemed almost catatonic.
“I’m not good enough for the project, I’m not good enough for… anybody.”
Her words broke my heart, yet I just stared at her in shock.
“It’s all good,” she said after a long, pregnant moment. “I’ve got to go now. See you around.”
She took off at a fast walk while I stared after her, trying to figure out how everything had gone to shit so fast.
With leaden feet I returned to my porch, only to realize that I’d locked myself out. Sighing, I rang the doorbell so my mother would let me in. Stupid self-locking door in this stupid house that I didn’t even like.
“Did you catch up with Grace?” Mom asked as I re-entered the house.
“Yeah. She, uh, had to go.”
Mom nodded, then followed me back to the dining room where we’d been talking before Grace came over. She sat down but I continued to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses. My mother raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment as I poured us each a shot.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get the project,” I said before downing a shot of whiskey in one gulp.
Mom followed suit before she responded.
“There will be other projects,” she said kindly. “Your father and I thought it was a stretch anyway, but the Sandersons insisted that you two could pull it off. Your father thinks they’re having some money issues, that’s why they wanted us to partner with them to make the application more competitive.”
“Grace never mentioned any of that,” I replied. “I’m sure she doesn’t know.”
“So you and Grace are together, huh?” Mom asked gently. “She’s the one you’ve been spending so many nights with. How long has this been going on?”
“Almost since we started working on the project,” I said.
“I guess the rumors were true.”
I looked up at my mother. “What rumors?”
“My assistant heard that you were making out with a woman in the conference room. I told her it was ridiculous, because I didn’t know you were… uh, are you a lesbian then? Or one of those bisexuals?”
“I’m a lesbian,” I said, pouring us each another shot.
“You just realized?” Mom prodded. “Did Grace, uh, turn you lesbian?”
I shook my head. “I realized that I was gay back in college.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “You never said anything all these years.”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it,” I admitted. “You or Dad.”
“It would have been nice to know before I spent years inviting every young man your age to dinner,” she griped. “I could have at least focused my matchmaking on someone more appropriate.”
“Mom, I don’t want to be matchmade. I don’t want blind dates. I don’t want to worry every time I come over to your house for dinner about what uncomfortable experience I’m going to have with some sucker who doesn’t know they’re being fixed up by our parents.”
