Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “It drove us apart.”
Kelsey didn’t push. Instead, she tilted her head, that hint of a smile returning, sharp and knowing. “Are you worried about what people will think of me?”
Elizabeth’s fingers stilled. “That you’re not a lawyer?”
Kelsey’s laugh was quiet, almost a breath. “Hmm. But more specifically… My age.”
The question landed like a stone in Elizabeth’s stomach. She reached for her glass again, the whiskey suddenly less appealing. “And what age is that?”
“Thirty-one.”
Elizabeth’s grip tightened. Thirty-one. Half her age, nearly. The numbers settled in her chest, heavy and undeniable. She could feel the weight of the years between them. The lines around her own eyes, the way her body ached after long days in court, the quiet certainty that she was past the point of being someone’sfirstanything.
Kelsey’s smile didn’t waver. “This is the part where you tell me your age.”
Elizabeth set the glass down. “I’m forty-eight.”
Kelsey’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes did, something softer, almost curious. “I know my friends can’t know about this, but if they did, they wouldn’t question it.”
Elizabeth’s laugh was dry. “You’re into older women?”
“This isn’t about what I’m into,” Kelsey said, her voice low but steady. “It’s about whattheyneed to believe.”
Elizabeth didn’t like the way Kelsey’s words settled in her chest, heavy and warm. She also didn’t like the way her pulse jumped when Kelsey’s knee brushed against hers again, deliberate this time.
Kelsey’s lips quirked, just slightly. “They need to believe that we’re together. That it’s real.” She held her gaze. “People notice details. The way you look at someone. The way you touch them. The way youdon’ttouch them.”
Elizabeth was beginning to feel like she was a defendant on the stand and Kelsey was the prosecutor, dismantling her piece by piece.
“Fine,” Elizabeth said, her voice tight. “What do we need to do?”
Kelsey’s grin widened, quick and triumphant. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Elizabeth’s wrist, light but deliberate. “First, you have to stop flinching every time I touch you.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched. But she didn’t pull away, but the way Kelsey’s fingers lingered, the way her thumb traced a slow circle over Elizabeth’s pulse point—it was too much. It had been too long since she’d had a woman do this to her.
“Second,” Kelsey continued, her voice dropping to a murmur, “you need to stop looking at me like I’m a problem you need to solve.”
Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “That’s not?—”
“It is,” Kelsey cut in, her thumb still moving, slow and steady. “And it’s going to make this harder than it needs to be.”
Elizabeth forced herself to relax, to unclench her jaw, to let her shoulders drop. “What else?”
Kelsey’s smile softened, just slightly. “We need a story. Something simple. Something believable.”
Elizabeth’s fingers twitched. “Like what?”
Kelsey leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Like how we met.”
She held Kelsey’s gaze, almost as if she was hypnotized and couldn’t look away. “And how did we meet?”
The question shouldn’t have been difficult. People met in bars, at parties, through mutual friends. But the truth settled over her like a weight—she hadn’t done any of those things in years. Her life had narrowed to work, her apartment, court, and the coffee shop where Kelsey worked. That was it. That was all.
Kelsey took a sip of her drink, watching Elizabeth over the rim of her glass. “You tell me. I don’t know what you like to do outside of work. Where might I have met you?”
The whiskey burned in Elizabeth’s throat, but the heat didn’t reach the cold knot in her stomach. She should have hobbies. She should have interests. But the last time she’d done anything purely for pleasure, Grace had still been in her life. The realization made her fingers twitch against the glass.
“I don’t—“ Elizabeth stopped, cleared her throat. “I don’t do much outside of work.”