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I blink a few times to ward off the waves of disbelief hitting me. The woman sitting in the armchair next to me looks genuinely interested. I clear my throat and speak the truth:
"Last week." I completely ignore the memory that flashes in my mind of the two naked women kissing me. I glance at Katie, still feeling Dianna's gaze on my neck.
"Man? Woman?" Dianna asks, her eyes so wide I swear her eyelashes touch her brow. Katie was expecting the question as much as I was.
"Woman." It's the most detail I give, trying to ignore a slight defensive sense in my brain. I was from the police force, an institution absolutely prejudiced and conservative, so talking about something as taboo as bisexuality was never part of my reality.
"Interested, Dianna?" Katie raises her eyebrows, smiling, and I realize I'm the main subject of an inside joke between the two.
"I don't know what you're talking about; it was just curiosity." She settles back in her chair, and the rings on her fingers suddenly become very interesting.
"As I recall, I wasn't the main topic of this conversation. When was the last time you had tea?" My turn to ask questions, using a level of intimacy I don't possess.
"How did you...?"
"You literally have the lesbian pride flag on your bedside table." I point to the object in question, which was placed near the lamp.
"Oh..." Understanding dawns on her, and suddenly she's awkward. "It's been a few months, it was with one of those socialites, at one of those fancy CEO dinners I usually attend."
"And was it good?" Katie keeps the subject going.
"Um, not exactly, I never knew if she liked women or not, I felt like part of an experiment. She was friendly at least."
"That's a polite way of saying you didn't like it?" I inquire.
"I didn't dislike it, but it wasn't anything that made me want more. She seemed kind of lost."
We spend the rest of the afternoon chatting. Dinner had already been served when one of Dianna's aunts arrived at the house. I almost choke on the wine I'm drinking when I see her because she's the socialite from the news, who was with a man 30 years younger. My jaw almost drops when he enters the dining room right behind her.
"Good evening, family. This is my boyfriend, Vinicius." He nods politely and takes his seat at the table. "Dianna, my dear, aren't you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?"
"Scarlett Kettermann is my bodyguard, but also my guest," I notice she uses her usual formal tone to answer the question.
"And my wayward daughter who hasn't hugged me yet." She says before giving Katie a tight hug. Suddenly, I begin to understand where Dianna's cousin's personality and beauty come from. Mother and daughter sit close to each other, starting to chat.
"Katie and her mother are almost the same person." I whisper to Dianna.
"Do you think so? I personally think it's just their depraved way of talking. It doesn't seem like it, but Katie and her mother fight a lot. However, sometimes there are moments like this, where there's a little truce."
"Ah, I see." I nod and start to notice the aunt's boyfriend. He should be at most 24 years old, had no beard, and was slim, probably shorter than me. From the way he was comfortable, it shouldn't be his first time at this dining table. "Have they been dating for a long time?"
"As far as I know, no more than a few months. It was a big scandal at the time. It only came out in the media now because of gossip. In reality, this story between them goes back a few seasons. My aunt sort of sponsors him, and my mother thinks it's absurd." By this point, our conversation was made up of exchanged whispers.
"What does Katie think of it?" I continue in the same tone.
"This relationship is just another topic in their argument." She remarks. "Katie disapproves of this relationship so much that she didn't speak to her own mother for 3 months."
We are interrupted when we notice Dianna's father entering the room. Mr. McAllister was very tall, slim, with a white beard, and extremely elegant. He was wearing a green sweater, and his hair was combed back. Dianna spent almost an hour in the office with him before dinner. She seemed fine, so I imagine that, even though their relationship wasn't affectionate, their coexistence was amicable.
"I'd like to welcome you all. I imagine the rest of the relatives will arrive throughout the week for Christmas. Sorry for the delay in welcoming you, I had to sort out some issues..."
***
"BY ISSUES, HE MEANS a video conference with some people from a company he invests in." She complains as soon as we enter the room after dinner. "I found out about it today. He wanted to involve my company, but I refused. Sometimes, he forgets that I'm the owner now and tries to make decisions for me, hence the delay earlier." She kicks her heels off and heads to the closet.
"Sometimes, he just doesn't like the idea of not having to work for the rest of his life." I try to contribute to the conversation. "But I think you should stand your ground."
"I'm plagued by doubts all the time, I don't need my father to add even more doubts to my head." She disappears into the bathroom.
Meanwhile, I observe the room; it's huge. It's well-lit both day and night, and the dark stone floor makes the space cozy. Dianna's bed could easily fit 3 people. As for the house, it had a structure with an older architecture, with many arches and artistic details, which really make it look like a castle, but the furniture was modern enough to be comfortable without detracting from the style.
I sit on the sofa near the fireplace and take off my boots. I enter the closet and pick out a change of clothes. I take a quick shower, just as she comes out of the bathroom. I put on my pajamas, gray sweatpants, and a loose cotton shirt. When I return to the room, I discover that the sofa I was on before is actually a sofa bed. Dianna had spread a sheet and was now placing a blanket and two pillows on the upholstery.
"Thank you very much." I appear behind her. She turns around, and I notice a very pleasant scent of shampoo and moisturizer.
"Oh, it's nothing." She looks up.
I realize it was the first time I had seen her without any makeup. She had subtle freckles, only visible up close. The eyebrow hairs were a reddish tone, just like her hair. I clear my throat, taking a couple of steps back as I realize I've been staring for too long.
"You'll be surprised at how absolutely comfortable this sofa is. I'm just in doubt now, because I just realized that you're tall and your feet might stick out..."
"It's perfect." I cut her off gently, and she accepts, then walks over to the bed and removes the pillows decorating it. She sits at the foot of the bed with a pillow in her lap. "Look at you, like a teenager." I pick up a small photo frame from the table between the fireplace and the sofa.
"This photo is from a very good time in my life. I studied at an all-girls boarding school, you know, the ones where the uniform is a plaid skirt and blazer with a tie? I believe those were the best four years of my life. I went to parties every week, not to mention I was very popular. Either the girls loved me or hated me, no in-between. I suppose I handle these grumpy millionaires well because nothing beats the bunch of extremely rich mean girls I had to deal with daily during my time there." She comments, laughing. "And I'm including myself in that group, okay?"
"I can imagine, Regina George would lick the floor for you to pass by, wouldn't she?" I joke and look back at the photo frame, imagining a mini Dianna going to parties and complaining that her allowance was only 50 thousand. "And did you like it there?"
"I liked it so much that I almost got expelled." She smiles. "All my first times were during that time. One day I was making out in the library with a girl from the senior year and the matron caught us."
"Dianna McAllister, I didn't know you had a rebellious side!"
"I was a very spoiled teenager, that's what I was. The only thing that stopped me from being asked to leave the school was a very generous donation from my dear mother. I can't shake the idea that the new car the matron showed up with the following week came from that money."
"Your mother must have been very upset." I imagine the scenario in my head.
"She was more concerned about me kissing girls than about the money and my suspension. She blamed my father for it. After all, he's the one who forced me to study there in a school full of girls." She says.
"I can imagine. It must have been a blow to find out that her little girl won't be able to give her blue-blooded grandchildren." She doesn't complain about my slightly acidic comments about the class she belonged to.
"Exactly, but I'm not worried about that now, you know? But then..." She settles on the bed. "I think we're going to be living together for a while. I think it's fair for you to tell me a little about your life."
"Well, I've been fighting for over 18 years, I'm a black belt in jiu-jitsu. I left the police force when I was a third lieutenant. My favorite food is birthday cake... I think you need to be more specific in your question." I stand up to lean against the back of the sofa, getting closer to her.
"I already know all that, it was all in your resume when I hired you. I'm not asking about Lieutenant Kettermann, I'm asking about Scarlett, the one who ran away when she saw a woman in lingerie." I don't find the question strange, even though she had referred to the incident that had occurred a few weeks ago. Still, I wonder where the interest came from.
"Of course, but I assure you it's not as interesting a story as yours. I've known since I was 12 years old that I liked women. The surprise was discovering that I also liked men at 16. Usually, bisexual people end up in the opposite situation." She was genuinely paying attention, and suddenly I find myself wanting to tell her my whole life story just to satisfy the curiosity of those brown eyes, looking at me so attentively. However, I decide to keep the story brief. "My adolescence was very calm, however, my parents were very overprotective. I feel like I really started living when I started living alone."
"About the person you mentioned you were with last week, is she your girlfriend?" She asks in the most casual tone she can muster. I smile, my tongue passing over the inside of my cheek, and realize that I'm making the same conceited face Luke has a habit of making.
"No, Ally and Lena are not my girlfriends." I see a little spark of surprise in her eyes and relish in it. "They are indeed dating each other, of course. I'm just a third person they like to invite occasionally."