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getting used to.
    I shook my head. “No thanks.”
    “Don’t know what you’re missing.”
    I heard Wade greet Gregory as I went through the kitchen door. Although I wouldn’t exactly call the two men friends, they were cordial.
    Wade’s political ambitions went well beyond the Pine Ridge City Council. Gregory had supported his campaign, and Wade expected his continued support as he moved up the local political ladder.
    I steered the dinner conversation into neutral channels as much as possible. We chatted our way through the pork roast and baked potatoes, speculating on the high school football team’s chances this season (good), the new television season (poor), and whether the bond measure for the community center would pass (doubtful).
    We made it to dessert before it all fell apart.
    I was carrying in the apple pie—which I suspected Mom had bought from Dee’s Lunch even if she would never admit it—when Gregory dropped his bombshell.
    “So, Georgiana, I hear there was some excitement out at the McComb site this morning.”
    I managed to get the pie on the table without breaking the dish, my heart pounding.
    He looked up at me, his face a study in innocence. But there was something in his eyes, a look that made me wonder just how much he knew about Blake Weston.
    I kept my voice steady as I answered. “A pretty normal day—for that project. Nothing’s easy when you’re building a moat.”
    “I’ll bet,” Wade chimed in. He obviously wasn’t getting the undercurrent between Gregory and me.
    “I heard it was a little more than that.” Gregory’s voice reminded me of Blake’s—a little too smooth for me.
    I shrugged.
    “I heard you had a visitor,” he pressed. “Wondered what all the commotion was about.”
    I refused to get upset as I had earlier in the day. Gregory was pushing, but I could control myself.
    I passed Gregory a piece of pie, then handed one to Mother, and finally one to Wade. Wade’s expression showed his concern, but he waited, letting me handle the situation.
    The boy was learning.
    “Actually, Gregory,” I said as I sat back down, “it was just the security consultant McComb hired.”
    “But he was someone you know?”
    “ Used to know,” I corrected. “A long time ago.”
    I shot Wade a smile I hoped was reassuring, and focused my attention on Mom. She looked uncomfortably aware of the touch of hostility in Gregory’s questioning.
    “So, Mom, what was it you were saying earlier about the Clackamas Commons project? You had some new sales projections?”
    We moved back to safer subjects, but I was left with a lingering unease. Why had Gregory been so intent on discussing Blake Weston’s visit to the job site? And why bring it up in the middle of dinner?

chapter 6

    My mother had the same questions.
    She motioned for me to help her clear the dessert dishes and follow her into the kitchen. She immediately closed the door behind us.
    “What was that all about?” she demanded. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have Gregory know more about your life than your own mother does?”
    Now that was more like it. For an instant I’d thought she was worried about me. But no, she was worried about how it made her look.
    Be fair, I reasoned. She knows I can take care of myself, and I’ve deliberately kept her out of my life because she doesn’t agree with the choices I’ve made.
    It wasn’t that my mother thought a husband and family were a better choice than an advanced degree. She thought they were the only choice.
    The arguments ran through my head, an instant replay of our every conversation. She thought college—especially one with a high male to female ratio—was a way to earn a “Mrs.” I was proud of my MS. It was a fundamental difference.
    Still, she loved me, and I loved her in spite of our differences.
    I touched her arm. “It was just someone I knew a long time ago, Mom. Someone I hoped I would never see again. He was a jerk. I’d almost