“You didn’t have to,” I say. “Where did you go to college?”
“Excuse me?”
“College. Where did you go?”
“University of Washington,” she says.
“I went to Stanford.”
“And your point is what?” she asks. “That you went to a prestigious and expensive school?”
“My point is scholarships,” I say.
“I’m not following you.”
“I went to Stanford entirely on scholarships,” I say. “My parents could never have afforded to send me to an Ivy League school. Hell, my parents couldn’t have afforded to send me to the local community college, so it was all down to me. In case you were assuming that I come from money and had everything handed to me on a silver platter.”
“I told you, that isn’t what I meant.”
“That’s okay,” I say. “You can make it up to me by coming to dinner with me tonight.”
“No.”
I hold her gaze, and my mouth turns up in a slight smile. “Do you have other plans?”
“That’s none of your business,” she says.
“You don’t have plans, but I’ll take a rain check anyway.” I stand up and straighten the cuffs of my sleeves. “I have a lot of work to do, so I’ll chat with you later.”
I don’t really want to walk away, but I know it’s the right move. She and I are in the midst of a fencing bout, and although she scored a few points on me, I think I’m in the lead.
Barely.
I need to take a breather before we go in for another round.