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Olivia did lick her top lip at the news. “You know just how to talk to a girl, huh?”

“Practice makes perfect. I’ve had lots of it.”

“I like you, Grace.” Now she wobbled with a weak chuckle.

“Of course you do.”

“I find you arrogant, irritating, and stubborn.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But you are also gentle and caring. I think you try to hide your softer side. It’s not working. I can see right through you.”

“Instead of giving me the shrink treatment, see if you can walk in a straight line.”

Grace guided Olivia to her door with a strong grip around her arm when she struggled. Then across the main room, straight to the sofa. “Sit. Don’t pass out on me, okay?”

“’Kay.” Olivia exhaled. “Ah… I’m sorry about this.”

“No need. Just don’t faint. Olivia...” Grace held her steady as she started to pitch to the side, probably to do just that. “Eat first, sleep later.”

“Wild sex? When?”

“Not on the menu.”

The promised burger, an extra-large portion of chips, and a plant-based strawberry milkshake were delivered a few minutes later.

“Jesus,” Olivia muttered, reaching for the drink with shaky hands. She had to use both so as not to spill it. “Is this getting worse?”

“You’ll feel better as soon as the food hits your system. This never happened to you before?”

“No. Why? Is it a thing?”

“You just went hypo-glycemic. It happened to me a few times in my previous career. I was a professional dancer,” Grace added at Olivia’s prompting look.

“Oh, that explains it then.”

“What?”

“The graceful way you move.” Olivia smiled at her around a mouthful of burger. “And underlying strength. You felt strong when you were holding me. Were you a ballet dancer?”

“At first, yes. Then I specialized in social Latin styles.”

“Like Salsa? One of my exes was really into that.”

“Oneof them?” Grace prompted, surprised to feel a flash of irritation at the thought of even a single one. “How many ofthemmight there be?”

Olivia fixed her with suddenly rosy cheeks and a sheepish smile. “That didn’t come out right. Not many exes. I don’t date a lot.”

Grace spotted a telling flicker across her eyes as she said this. Hurt? Grief? Both, she suspected. And again, this triggered a powerful impulse to soothe and protect. Grace was well aware of this trait of character in herself. She invariably assumed the role of protector in her relationships. This being said it was a long time since she had felt the urge so strongly. There was also the fact that this woman was absolutely not her type… Right?

“Do you still dance?” Olivia asked.

“Now and then. Only for fun and pleasure.” As her phone rang, Grace seized on a timely excuse to end the conversation. “Enjoy your meal, Ms. Bianchi. And yell if you need anything. Goodnight.”

chapter 11

Olivia was helping to run a vegan awareness event the following day. It was straightforward street activism, unscripted. The kind she enjoyed most was when members of the public were invited to debate a hot issue. On that day, the vegan advocates stood in front of a sign including a photo of a cute newborn calf, and a caption asking: