Page 45 of Miss Understanding

“Are you helping to pay for her care?” His voice was soft and knowing.

I simply stared at him. “I feel like you may have led the witness.”

He smiled. “Sorry. It’s a bad habit when I think someone is hiding something.”

My shoulders drooped. “Not even my parents know.”

His forehead crinkled. “How is that possible?”

“I pay the facility directly, and the administrator bills the difference to my parents. I only pitch in two thousand a month.”

“How much is the care?”

“Five thousand a month. My grandfather’s pension and social security pays some. My parents pay the rest.”

“Why lie to them about it?”

“I don’t like to think of it as a lie. But I do it because my parents would never dream of having me help. Pride and all that. And I couldn’t stand having my nan in a cheaper facility, further away from us.”

“Why didn’t you simply tell me?”

“Because talking about money makes me feel weird. If someone is complaining about it, then it feels to me like they’re asking for some. I make a fair salary at the law firm.” The only other person who knew I paid for my grandmother’s care was my roommate, Chloe. If anyone understood having to help out with the family, it was her. She, too, had to supplement her family’s finances.

He gave me a quick glance, stirring the sauce. As if he knew how important my admission was, he reassured me. “I won’t tell anyone, just like I trust anything I’ve confided in you won’t be repeated.”

“No. Never.” I knew how the gossip mills worked at the firm. I’d take it to my grave. “The water is boiling. Let’s put in our homemade pasta.”

After everything was cooked, we sat down at the table in silence. I held my breath and watched Liam’s expression when he took his first bite.

He closed his eyes and made a humming sound in his throat. “Jesus, this is good.”

My grin was the stupid, silly kind. “You helped. So thank you.” I took my own bite and was immediately assaulted with the rich flavors. “Nothing beats homemade pasta. I especially love making ravioli or gnocchi.”

“If you ever decide to be a personal chef, please let me be your first client. I may have to up my gym routine, but I think it would be worth it.”

He had no idea how much his words meant to me. “Thank you.”

He let out a sigh and changed the subject back to his favorite: work. “Tomorrow I need to focus on billing. I can’t put it off any longer this month.”

He did have a number of clients for whom we needed to get bills out the door. “What if I take a crack at it? Since they’re Word documents, I’ll do everything in Track Changes, and you can accept or not. Then you can focus fully on the deposition.”

“Sure. I’d appreciate it. Also I have four calls tomorrow.”

“Yes, I saw that on your calendar. Do you need anything for them?”

“No. Thank you. I think I’m good.”

My mind was having trouble catching up with the turn of events. He was acting reasonable, and I was no longer thinking of ways for him to suffer.

The only problem was that now I was no longer thinking of him as an asshole, I was just left thinking about him period.

* * *

I was exhausted by Tuesday night. It had been another fourteen-hour workday. But at least it had been productive. For once I was glad not to be cooking. Instead Liam went out to pick up pizza in preparation for his mom coming over. I quickly vacuumed, only stopping when he came in holding two pizzas and a bag.

He was frowning.

“Everything okay?”