Page 23 of Guilty as Sin

But Harper's no help at all. She just sips her water, amused, knowing exactly how trapped I feel. She drums her fingers, keeps quiet, waits for me to break.

"So, what kept you so busy over there?" Mom’s gaze is a direct hit. It glances off me like a rubber bullet, bruising me with its calm accuracy.

"One client referred another and it felt like there weren’t enough hours in the day. And then the usual tourist stuff," I manage. "So much to see!"

“New clients?" Celia asks.

"Yes. There were several French-owned businesses looking to launch in New York that were excited to do business with us." I'm aware of how quick I sound, how frayed my voice is at the edges. “We’re going to be so busy, Harper may need to expand her staff. Busy, busy, busy!"

Harper is almost laughing. She sees it, I know she sees it—the thin ice, the hot water, the walls closing in.

I keep talking, spilling words like they’re the only things keeping me afloat. "It's just overwhelming how much there is to do. I barely slept. Did you know theMona Lisais at the Louvre?” It's no use—they're all looking at me like I'm the daily special, fresh meat ready to be cooked.

I shove a piece of bread into my mouth. There's a possibility I can chew my way out of this.

Harper sets down her glass and turns her laser focus on me, finally pulling the trigger. "You were with them all week, weren't you? The Beckers?"

Silence implodes like a bomb. There are casualties everywhere.

"They're clients, aren't they?" I fire back, trying to keep the chaos in one piece. "You were the one who wanted me to go after the contract!" I know she’s trying to help me pull the trigger, but I’m having second thoughts and fear this may not be the greatest plan after all.

Harper nods, like I’m a student who’s half paying attention. "True. But aren’t they more than just clients?" Her words are casual, the polished finish of someone who expected this twist all along. I guess I have to expect it, too, now that I've lived it and said it out loud and Harper has called me out.

Celia gasps and covers her mouth, but I see her eyes dancing behind her fingers.

Mom adjusts the sapphire scarf around her neck, hardly missing a beat. "Goodness, Zoe. What are you saying?”

“Technically, I’m not saying anything.” It’s a poor attempt to save my skin but no one buys it.

“Just spill the rest of the tea, Zoe. She’ll find out sooner or later.” Harper shakes her head and waves her hand, pressuring me to cough it up.

“Fine!” I take a deep breath and dab my mouth with my napkin, for no other reason than to buy myself a few moreseconds. “Mother, I have entered into a relationship with two men. It may be strange to someone like you, but we’re in love and it works for us. I’m currently in the process of moving in with them. I’ll forward my new address to you as soon as I’m settled.” I exhale loudly and recline in my chair, thankful I’ve finally gotten it off my chest.

"Now I see why the brothers keep sending more clients our way. I think you need a raise for going above and beyond the call of duty." Harper is all jokes now.

She sits back and surveys the rest of the table, waiting to see how the collateral will fall. Celia's hand drops from her face. Her mouth opens again, and a whole flock of questions comes rushing out.

"How does that even work, honey? Are they—" Celia looks both scandalized and thrilled. Her voice is a high note, her eyes wide and face flushed."

I’m bare-handed and breathless, feeling exposed and wishing the table would swallow me whole. "It’s not what you think," I say, and they all lean in, elbows on the table, the weight of their curiosity making it tilt dangerously in my direction. "It's complicated," I add, the simplest explanation of all.

"Is it serious?" Celia wants to know, and I don't think I can answer that. I don't think I have to, because Mom leans forward, raising her fork with the precision of a matador with a sword.

“I guess you’re more like me than I expected,” my mother chimes in while she butters a roll. “It was the same for me in college. I had a similar relationship with three men during college." Her words are poised to strike like a cobra, and I flinch when they hit me.Three men? Excuse me?

Celia is delighted and Harper is on the edge of her seat, eyes round, jaw almost unhinged. Mom deposits the roll on her plate and the background chatter drops to a dull hum as I recoil in shock.

"You did not just say that," I breathe.

But she did, and she shows no sign of taking it back. "It was lovely while it lasted," she says, as if this can be neatly pinned to her timeline like an old theater ticket. "It's not the life I'd choose for you, of course," the faintest whisper of reproach brushes against her tone, "but I see why you might want to explore your options."

Explore my options?She says it like she's offering a brochure for the vacation homes.

"You can't be serious," I say. "Did my father know?"

Mom nods with smooth elegance. "He did. He was one of those men. But that’s not why he left. I’m convinced I chose the wrong one to marry.”

"Well." Celia finds her voice. "I certainly didn't see this coming."

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