-1
Chapter Two
The doctor's office was dark, the only illumination coming from the small desk light and the inane screensaver on her monitor. Grace was sitting at her desk, staring out of the window, her thoughts drifting as she came to decision after decision without any real conclusion to the problem at hand.
Eve watched her from the doorway for a few minutes before calling her name. "Grace?" Eve repeated, moving towards the desk.
"Sorry. I was miles away." Grace smiled weakly as she turned. "What do you need?"
"Who's the lucky guy?"
Grace tried to feign confusion. "I was thinking about . . ."
"So it is a guy!" Eve grinned, settling herself on the arm of the visitor's chair, silently urging and hoping for more information. It had to be a guy that was causing Grace so much consternation, she was too professional for work to make her so temperamental, and Eve had a pretty good idea who the guy was too. Her and Stella had been debating the issue for weeks, neither coming up with a way to push the issue. Now there seemed like an opening was in her reach.
"No."
"Really. And I thought you forayed into drama at university."
Grace looked confused.
"You're not a very good actor."
Grace rose to her feet. "Can I get you some tea?"
"You know what's said between these four walls stays between these four walls."
It wasn't that Grace didn't want to talk to someone, there were just a million and one complications. The person she really wanted to talk to seemed to be slipping further and further away to the point that any friendship they had was tentative and awkward. Her peers would probe deeper than she was willing to submit to. Mel was dead, Frankie off to pastures knew and as much as she loved Spence he wasn't someone she wanted to confide her deepest secrets in. As sad as it was to admit, Eve and Stella were the closest she had to friends with the life she had chosen to live.
"I'd share the juicy details of my love life with you but a deep seated obsession with dead bodies seems to put off even the most determined of men."
Grace raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm getting action. They generally don't stick around for coffee."
"Their loss."
"So is it the real thing?" Eve asked casually.
"It's a crush. A silly middle aged fantasy." Grace let out a deep sigh, wondering how a man could suddenly make her feel so silly.
"Really?" Eve teased, sliding into the chair. "Do tell."
Grace shook her head, realising she had already said too much. "It's nothing."
"Stella and I are grabbing a drink. Maybe some food. Want to join us?" Spencer asked, sticking his head around the door, clueless to what he had interrupted.
Grace glanced at Eve, thankful for the interruption. "Why not?"
"If you're buying I'm in." Eve rose to her feet, pausing by the door. "I was serious earlier. If you ever want to talk about anything, you know where to find me."
"You ever need to be psycho analysed come find me." Grabbing her purse, Grace flipped off the desk lamp and followed Eve out of the office.
"What's everyone drinking?" Boyd asked, hovering over the table as everyone got settled. It wasn't that often that he went out with them, usually he worked late and went straight home. Spencer, he knew, liked to hit the clubs, staying out late and arriving at work looking like 'the cat that got the cream.' Eve preferred to hang out with dead bodies, Grace with her peers, or at least that was what he imagined. Stella, he had no idea about. Tonight though Spence had chosen to rally them all and he, feeling slightly distanced from them all, had invited himself along. "Red wine for Grace," he smiled knowingly.
"Beer."
"White wine."
"I'll come with you," Spence offered, handing out menus to the women. He gave Grace a tentative smile, not completely oblivious to the tension in the team, but not willing to choose sides.
"So what have you decided to do with your vacation?" Stella asked Eve, turning in her chair.
"I haven't decided. Bolivia, Argentina, Bosnia. There are mass graves there that need clearing."
Grace shook her head. "Some people would go for the sun, sea and sand option."
"Or the Big Apple," Eve suggested helpfully.
"Yeah, some people."
"I'm a workaholic."
"Over-achiever," Grace offered.
"You're one to talk. When was the last vacation you had?" Eve asked, settling herself back in the chair. "Hey, you could come with me."
Stella rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because he copes so well when she's not here." Her words caught in her throat as she realized what she said. "Sorry."
Grace scoffed. "The tyrant needs people to torment."
Eve and Stella shared a knowing look. It was more than that, they knew. Boyd for all his faults genuinely trusted Grace, and her absence left him isolated. He was ten times more relentless in his pursuit for justice and a hundred times more unbearable when she was out of the picture.
"Have you guys figured out what you want to eat?" Spencer asked, unaware to the tension around the table. Handing Eve her beer and Stella a glass of wine, he stepped back, sipping his own beer. "Boyd's paying."
Grace picked up the menu. "In that case I'm suddenly feeling hungry."
The atmosphere was relaxed and full of banter as they ate and drank a little more than they probably should have in each others company. The bar that had been empty when they had arrived was overcrowded and stifling by ten o'clock, the noisy making it difficult to carry on a conversation.
"It plays everything except the really cheesy stuff, " Spencer said, his voice rising above the din of the bar.
"Honestly, Eve, it's not that bad."
Spencer shot Stella a weird look.
"I just meant . . . Well you know, it's not full of busty undergraduates. Much to Spencer's distain sometimes."
"You make me sound like some middle aged Lothario."
"If the cap fits." Stella helped herself to the rest of his beer.
"I should get going," Grace announced, glancing at her watch and stifling a yawn.
"Don't fancy clubbing?" Eve teased, shaking her hair loose and slipping out of her blouse to reveal a vest that left little to the imagination.
She rolled her eyes. "A good book and a night cap is more my thing."
"How are you going to get home?" Spencer asked, ever the gentleman.
"Taxi."
"Want one of us to ride with you?"
Grace shook her head. "I'm a big girl now, Spence."
"We could share," Boyd offered, feeling his age suddenly. The idea of clubbing to the early hours and getting up for work the next day was something he had left behind in his youth. Of course his route home was no where in the vicinity of Grace's but they were friends and he was old school.
"I'm fine, really," she said, unsure about sharing a ride with him, unsure of what they would talk about or how much of an idiot she would make of herself. A crush she had told Eve, a little white lie she told herself, knowing that when she took the job she was leaving herself open to him. For years she had denied herself feelings, concentrating on friendship and her job, then Mel had died and she'd re-evaluated, allowing herself to imagine how she would feel if it was him. "Take care of each other."
A chorus of nights followed her out of the door and when she came to a halt on the pavement she felt his presence. "Boyd?"
"For once, Grace, just accept it, no arguments, no lengthy analysis."
She shrugged, holding her hands up in surrender, wondering what had suddenly brought on his mood, not that he ever needed a reason. "Ok."
The ride to her house was silent, neither really up for conversation, instead they lay back against the seat, eyes closed as they drove through the nearly deserted streets.
As the taxi came to a halt outside her Victorian semi, she opened her eyes and reached for her purse.
She tried to pay for the taxi but Boyd shook his head. "On me."
She looked at him, debating whether she should invite him in, deciding that she really didn't want him there.
"Night Grace." Leaning in, he gently kissed her cheek, not sure where the impulse had come from but not fighting it either.
"Night, Boyd."
She walked towards the house, a little stirred by what had been, by anyone's standards, an innocent kiss. Of course it was a kiss, not something Boyd often did.
He had closed the door of the cab and was watching her from the window.
Raising her hand, she waved before unlocking the door and walking inside. She stopped on the threshold, her hand to her mouth at the sight before her.