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Quinn shook her head as she smiled. “Talk to me in the New Year, okay?”
“Okay.”
She settled in beside the fire, feeling its gentle warmth and basking in its golden light. The logs were large and gave off an aromatic woodsy smell as they burned, crackling brightly with each shift of the flames. The wood snapped and popped with vigor, sending sparks flying against the screen.
The rich aroma of spiced and sweetened apples mixed with the earthy smell of the logs burning beside her. She glanced back toward the counter to see one of the girls filling up the glass case with what looked like apple crumble.
“I need to try that,” Quinn said, turning back to Lucy. “Do you want one?”
“Please.”
Quinn got up, immediately feeling the absence of the fire’s heat. There was a line now of six people, but it would be worth the wait. Everything she’d ever had here had been delicious.
Quinn’s steps slowed as she met the woman’s eyes as she joined the line. Her hair was a dark, rich brown like freshly brewed coffee, with threads of golden highlights running through it when the light hit in just the right way, a cascade of soft, loose waves that framed her face, her cheeks flushed a rosy hue from the cold winter air.
Quinn knew her, but from where?
She was strikingly beautiful, so Quinn couldn’t have forgotten if they’d been on a date, although the second that thought entered her mind, she chased it away.
This woman was too young for that to even be a possibility. She was probably in her early thirties, and Quinn would be fifty next week.
But there was undeniably a sense of recognition between them since this woman was staring back at her with an almost perplexed expression. Her eyes seemed to be searching hers as if looking for answers.
Only a few seconds had passed, although it felt like so much longer, and that confused feeling lingered even when the woman’s gaze eventually softened into a kind smirk.
3
Emily took her spot at the back of the line, tempted to take out her phone and make sure she wasn’t missing anything at work, but she forced herself to ignore it, at least for the weekend.
She was supposed to be taking time off, and she had to learn how to leave work at work. She’d done more than her fair share, always coming in early, staying late.
Emily forgot what she was thinking about when her eyes locked on a blond-haired woman coming towards her. It all seemed to happen in slow-motion, like one of those scenes from a movie, where time almost stands still.
It took Emily maybe five seconds to realize why she couldn’t look away. It wasn’t just because she was stunning and exactly Emily’s type.
She knew this woman.
That was Professor Grant.
Emily held her gaze as her mind flashed back to her senior year in college. She’d taken Professor Grant’s marketing class as part of her business degree.
That must have been twelve years ago.
And she was as gorgeous as ever.
Did Professor Grant recognize her? Was that why she was looking at her with a strange expression, her head slightly tilted? Maybe she was trying to remember her name?
“Hi,” Emily said with a hint of a smile, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She had zero problems approaching women in a New York City bar. Women she knew were high status, whether that was because of their careers or their wealth. But standing in front of her former lecturer? Emily was struggling to keep it together.
“Hey,” Professor Grant said, coming to stand beside her in the line.
Emily took in her former professor. She was wearing gray jeans with black boots and a long-sleeved black top. Her blue eyes dazzled as she studied Emily.
Professor Grant inhaled a sharp breath as she turned to face her. “You were a student of mine.” It was a statement more than a question.
Emily swallowed. That woman’s voice. It made her weak. And it hadn’t changed a bit. If anything, it had gotten sexier.
“Yes.” Emily wondered if she still wore glasses.
