Page 105 of Hell Bent

She said, “Any further discussion about your sex life is beyond my conversational tolerance, but if it would help for your father to speak to Sebastian?—”

This time, I laughed out loud, then cut it off when she looked offended. “No, thanks, Mother. I can communicate my needs.”

That was when Sebastian opened the door again, locked it behind him, and offered the key fob to my mother. “What did I miss?” he asked.

“You missed,” I said, “my mother offering to have my dad speak to you about having sex with a princess.”

“That is not what I—” my mother said, as Sebastian said, “How about if I talk to the princess instead?”

“And, see,” I told him, “that’s what I said.”

My mother said, “I still need to speak with you, Anastasia. I came up because it was your birthday, and I wanted to give you our gift. And also because I needed to see that you were all right, but now that I’m here, I can see that there are things to discuss.”

“Fine,” I said, because moving my mother was like trying to hold up the sky. “Want your tea warmed up for that?”

“Perhaps,” she said, “Sebastian would prefer waiting in his car as well.”

I looked at him, and he said, “Whatever you want.”

“Or,” my mother went on, “we could do the logical thing.Which is for you to say goodnight to him and allow us to have an honest conversation.”

“Well, no,” I said. “As my car is back at his place, and so are my clothes for tomorrow, and so is myfoodfor tomorrow.”

“Are you living with this man?” she asked, her tone sharper.

“Nope,” I said. “I’m staying at his place on the weekends. I’m warming up my tea. You can share it if you like, Sebastian. Want me to put yours in, Mother?”

She consented to that, looking resigned, and when I pulled the mugs out again, I told Sebastian, “Let’s sit down,” and slid into the dinette. He slid in beside me, and it was good to have him there. Embarrassing, but good, if you see what I mean.

My mother slid in opposite me, and if I’d thought I’d throw her off, I’d underestimated her. She didn’t look at Sebastian, just asked me, “Is that outfit appropriate, do you think? A tight leather skirt? A sweater that’s falling off you, and no stockings? That’s not how I brought you up to dress. You look like a?—”

“Well, no.” That was Sebastian. “She looks like a beautiful woman who went out to dinner with friends.”

“Friends,” my mother said.

“NFL players,” I said. “And their partners. I’d never have considered myself NFL-girlfriend material, yet here we are.”

“We’re just people,” Sebastian said. “And not all the same.”

I said, “I get that.”

“Just saying,” he said. “As it’s been mentioned a couple times here. You’re not your job, and I’m not mine. And neither are any of those other guys.”

I said, “Right. You’re right. I know it.” And tucked my hair behind my ear, because I was embarrassed.WasI a snob? “Except—” I hesitated.

“What?” he asked.

My mother said, “This is not the point.”

“No, but it is,” I said. “OK, it’s hot that you’re so good at something so physical, of course it is, and you being a celebrity and making lots of money doesn’t exactly repulse me, even though I’d have said it would. I think what really gets me is how hard you work.”

“Well, that’s a new one,” he said. “And I’m not a celebrity.”

“You were in the paper today,” I said.

“It’s Portland. It’s the home team. I wasn’t in theNew York Times.”

“No,” I tried to explain. “Not just at football. You work that hard at everything. He has his nephew living with him,” I told my mother, “because his sister’s dying. That’s hard, and he’s been so strong. So dedicated to doing what Ben needs. And with me, too. He’s just—” Wait. I should be talking to Sebastian. Not as comfortable, but I looked at him and said it. “You’re just sothere.You’re willing to fight if we have to. You’re willing to talk it over. You’re willing to do this, for that matter. And youseeme. I don’t embarrass you.”