Grace turned to him. ‘Listen Frank, I think you are great. You are the greatest, in fact, but I have some stuff going on in my life right now that is crazy and it means I have no room for anyone else.’
‘Not even me?’ asked Frank.
‘I have to be there for my mother,’ said Grace, remembering the guilt she felt about not being at Birdie’s side when she awoke.
Frank stood still for a moment but Grace kept walking. He chased her. ‘It’s because I’m a bike courier, isn’t it? I’m not good enough for you,’ he accused her.
She spun on her heel and faced him. ‘That has nothing to do with it. That’s your issue,’ she said.
‘So you tell me you love me and now you tell me you can’t be with me because you have to be there for your mother. Why can’t you have both? I can be there for you,’ he pleaded.
Grace stopped. ‘OK, it’s because you’re a bike courier. Happy now?’
She hailed a cab, which miraculously stopped. She jumped in and left Frank standing on the sidewalk.
Grace burst into tears in the cab. Facing up to her past was dividing her from Frank. Her first session back with her therapist made her realise how much she had to understand about herself and her life. She couldn’t do that while she was trying to start a new relationship, even her therapist agreed.
As the cab pulled up to Pajaro, she stood outside the building and set her shoulders. Time for work, she said to herself and put on her work smile. Fake it till you make it, she said as the door opened.
Frank stood where Grace had left him on the sidewalk. He pulled out his phone and dialled a number.
‘Chris Koch, please … Chris Koch, Frank Thurlow. I met you at the investor symposium on IT Entrepreneurs. Yes, that’s right. I spoke. I need a meeting. Today? Great. No, offsite would be good. Can you meet me at Soho Coffee in two hours? See you then.’
Frank hung up the phone. Now he would show Grace that he was more than she thought. He jumped on his bike and rode away, his mind whirling as fast as the wheels below him.
24
‘Thanks for helping me,’ said Carlotta as they walked into Chris’s apartment. ‘I really didn’t want to do that by myself.’ She looked at where the blood had been taken for the DNA test.
‘No problem,’ said Chris. ‘I was glad you asked me.’
Alexia wheeled herself into the hallway. ‘Hi,’ she said enthusiastically.
‘Hi yourself,’ said Carlotta, feeling really happy to see her.
‘What are you doing here?’ Alexia asked Carlotta.
‘Your dad rescued me from a shitty day,’ said Carlotta, and then covered her mouth. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t swear.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ laughed Alexia. ‘I think my first word was shit. Dad is a prolific cusser.’
‘Fuck no,’ said Chris as he came into the room. ‘Hi honey, how are you?’
‘Great, I got my French results. Ninety-seven per cent,’ she boasted.
‘Bien joué!’ said Chris, kissing her head. He turned to Carlotta. ‘She is almost fluent, wants to go to the Sorbonne to study.’
‘Wow,’ said Carlotta. ‘Des felicitations, Alexia, vous devriez être très fier,’ she said in a flawless accent.
‘Merci,’ beamed Alexia.
‘You speak French?’ asked Chris incredulously.
‘Oui. And Italian and Spanish.’
‘Bien joué to you also!’ he said as he walked through the hallway into the living room.
‘Is Nancy here?’ he asked Alexia.
