Page 57 of Whiskey Lies

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up, revealing forearms that leave me clenching.

How is it that a forearm could make me hot?

It’s probably because I know what it feels like to have those specific arms wrapped around me. Those fingers trailing my naked skin in the shower, setting fire to my body.

“Grace, are you listening to me?” my mother asks as she waves her hand in front of my face. Marion purses her lips as she bites back a smile, entertained by my pink cheeks.

“Sorry, Mom. Yes, I monitor for chemistry.”

This time my mother turns her body so that she is watching them in an obvious manner. Marion interjects, “Lily, really, turn around. This is my business we’re talking about.”

Thank you. At least my mother respects one of us.

My mother turns back around and rolls her eyes. “Just trying to point out that it doesn’t take a degree to determine whether someone has chemistry or not. And they clearly don’t. Marion, if you are allowing Grace to set him up, you should at least be teaching her how to spot a good match. Although, I’m not surprised that she can’t.”

I grind my teeth and breathe deeply.

Before Marion can defend me, my mother continues, “I really hope you aren’t just handing the business over on my account. You know Grace can pave her own way. No one ever gave me any handouts.”

“Mom,” I start, but like a real mother, Marion sticks her hand in front of my chest to save me from this car wreck.

“Lily, I assure you, I am not giving any handouts to anyone. Grace is an exceptional matchmaker, and my business could not be in better hands.” She lowers her hand to my leg and squeezes. I close my eyes and nod a thank you.

It shouldn’t be this hard to be around my own mother, but I know that the next hour is going to be continuous digs. It’s just what she does. It’s who she is. I know this and yet somehow it always comes as a shock. Her words bite me in a way that will leave me reeling for the next week. I hate that I allow her to get to me this way.

“Grace, have you stopped by Steven’s office lately? I noticed his secretary was wearing a very low-cut shirt at work today.” My mother gives me a knowing smile.

“First, what were you doing at his office?”

She smiles innocently, although I know there is nothing innocent about her. “Can’t I visit my son-in-law? I wanted to thank him for the generous birthday gift he sent. I figured you wouldn’t let him know that I personally said thank you.”

“That’s because he had nothing to do with it, Mom. I bought you the computer…and the spa certificate. Steven doesn’t even buy gifts for his own family. I buy everything.” I huff in annoyance. She’s unbearable.

“Well Grace, it’s with his money so I thought I should say thank you. That isn’t the point of this conversation, though. My point is…you aren’t doing yourself any favors allowing a secretary as beautiful as he has to work for him. Especially when you’re…”

Before she can finish, Marion silences her with a glare. But I need to hear it. Call me a glutton for punishment—a masochist—call me whatever the hell you want but I need to hear what my mother was going to say. “Tell me, Mom, what am I?”

My mother shakes her head. “Never mind. My point is…rather than worrying about who that guy over there is dating…you should be concerned about who your husband is dating.”

I laugh. If she really thought my husband was “dating” someone else, you’d think she would be affronted for me. Angry. You know, motherly. But no, my mother is somehow going to pin this on me. Not to mention the fact my husband is actually dating the someone that she is referring to as gorgeous.

“Enough,” Marion says, slamming her glass down, and garnering attention from half the restaurant. When Cash looks up at us, his eyes catch mine and I feel myself unravel.

No, not now. Please, stupid, weak, emotions, bottle yourself up and look away.

But I don’t. My eyes hold his, and I watch how his face morphs from cold to concerned. His date seems to notice as well, and she grabs his attention back. As soon as his eyes leave mine, I stand up and mutter an “excuse me,” needing to get as far away from the table as I can before I crack.

I know what my mother was getting at. I’ve gained weight. I’ve let myself go. Yes, I’m aware a woman’s worth isn’t tied to her waist size, or her hips, or her career, or her friendships…all of those things are just small pieces that make up each one of us. But when all those things seem to be unraveling before my very eyes, I can’t help but believe what my mother is saying.

Steven left me because I wasn’t enough. Even if he wasn’t enough for me either, it still stings.

The tears stupidly fall before I make it into the bathroom, and when I push open a door, hoping for privacy, I find that I’ve walked into a coat closet instead of the bathroom.

Cash’s voice breaks through the silence. “What are you doing?”

I groan as I push myself farther into the coats and try to ignore Cash and his concern.

“Grace, what are you doing?” he asks again right before he reaches out and pulls me into his chest, surprising us both.

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