Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the logic, didn’t like the way Kelsey was already calling the shots. But Kelsey was right. Again.
She made her way toward the bar, picking two stools at the far end, as close to the door as possible. Far enough from Scott that he might not notice them. Close enough to the exit that she could bolt if this went sideways.
Kelsey slid onto the stool beside her, her knee brushing Elizabeth’s thigh. Elizabeth shifted, putting an inch of space between them.
“This doesn’t seem like a place to order wine,” Kelsey said, her voice light, like she was commenting on the weather.
“No,” Elizabeth agreed.
Kelsey leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. “What are you having? I’ll get this round.”
Elizabeth’s fingers curled around the edge of the stool. She didn’t want Kelsey buying her drinks.
“Whiskey,” she said. “On the rocks.”
Kelsey’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t say anything.
Elizabeth watched as Kelsey flagged down the bartender, her movements easy, confident. Like she belonged here. Like she belongedanywhere.
The bartender slid two glasses toward them: a short, heavy tumbler filled with amber whiskey and a cube of ice for Elizabeth, and a tall, thin highball ringing with ice and the warm copper color of whiskey and ginger ale for Kelsey. Kelsey pushed the heavy tumbler toward Elizabeth,
“So,” Kelsey said, swirling her drink. “Tell me about Grace.”
Elizabeth’s stomach clenched. She took a sip of whiskey, the burn grounding her. “What about her?”
Kelsey tilted her head. “What’s she like? What do I need to know?”
Elizabeth set the glass down. “She’s a lawyer. Sharp. Ambitious.”
“Like you.”
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around the glass. “Not like me.”
Kelsey studied her, her expression unreadable. “Okay. What else?”
Elizabeth hesitated. She didn’t want to do this. She really didn’t want to dig up the past. But if they were going to sell this, Kelsey needed to know.
“She’s slightly older then me. She just turned fifty,” Elizabeth said finally. “Dark auburn hair. She’s athletic. Great golfer. Not bad at tennis either.”
Kelsey’s lips quirked. “So, nothing like me.”
The whiskey burned a path down Elizabeth’s throat, smooth and sharp at once. Kelsey’s question hung between them, light but loaded, the kind of thing that could unravel if she didn’t handle it right.
Elizabeth’s gaze flicked over Kelsey before she could stop herself. The blonde hair falling loose past her shoulders. The curve of her mouth. The way she sat, relaxed and open, like she had nothing to hide.
“No,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing like you.”
Kelsey’s fingers traced the rim of her glass. “Is that a problem?”
Elizabeth’s throat went tight. She should say yes. She should tell Kelsey that this was a terrible idea, that no one would believe they were together, that the entire premise was absurd.
Instead, she took another drink. “No.”
“And what about the new woman?”
“Charlotte is around the same age as Grace,” Elizabeth said, her voice steady. “Maybe a little older. She’s good for Grace. They have work in common, but not in the way we did.”
Kelsey’s fingers traced the rim of her glass, her expression shifting, something serious flickering behind her eyes before she smoothed it away. “And how was that?”