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F O R T Y S I X
- Quinn -
Madeline was out when I returned home to find her response under my bedroom door. I beamed when I saw that she’d circled her answer in lipstick, but by the time she came home with groceries a few hours later, I was ready to play it cool.
We chatted while she made chicken quesadillas, our hands bumping occasionally as we shared chips and guac, but I was careful to keep the counter between us. When dinner was ready, we ate on the couch so we could catch the Cubs game, but I could feel her sneaking glances at me every now and then.
I wasn’t sure if she was acting weird or if I was, but there was something delicious about the tension between us. It was like we had a secret we weren’t ready to talk about yet, a pact of some sort.
“What?” I asked, catching her staring at me sometime before the seventh inning stretch.
“Nothing,” she said, smiling to herself. She was adorable in her oversized U of I shirt, her soft shorts barely poking out the bottom.
I wanted so badly to pull her to me, tell her about my conversation with James, and pick up where we left off. I wanted to run my hands through her shiny hair, kiss her glossy lips, and pull her across my lap where she fit so perfectly. But I couldn’t do it. Not after the way I hurt her, after the way I betrayed her trust.
The only way this was going to work was if I earned it back, if I proved that I could be sweet and respectful even when there was no sex involved. Sure, I would’ve preferred the caveman approach, would’ve loved to scoop her up, carry her to bed, and reclaim her one inch at a time. But things were complicated enough when my dick wasn’t in the driver’s seat. So, like it or not, I was going to be the gentleman she deserved, even if a few baseball socks had to die for the cause.
“You free Saturday?” I texted the following day from my office, hoping I wouldn’t have to reschedule the surprise I’d been planning.
“Sure,” she said. “I can move some things around.”
My lips tugged to one side. “Don’t go to too much trouble.”
“Of course not,” she promised. “I’ll leave that to you.”
Boy, was she going to like my surprise, assuming I could pull it off. I was still waiting to hear back from one of the people whose help I needed.
“Chinese tonight?”
I considered her proposal. “You cooking or picking up?”
“That’s a joke, right? I cooked last night. So you’re picking up.”
I couldn’t believe it. Was she being bold because I told her I loved her? Or because we both knew I was in the doghouse?
My assistant knocked on the door a moment later and relayed that my Dad wanted to see me as soon as possible. I thanked her for the message, fired off a text to Maddy assuring her I’d ask for extra fortune cookies, and made myself a cup of coffee before heading to his corner office.
“Quinn,” he said when I waltzed in, as if he were announcing my presence to more than just himself. “I’m overextended today so I’ll be brief.”
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“First things first.” He slid a brown envelope from the briefcase on the floor beside him and set it on his desk. “Look this proposal over and make an appointment with me for the end of the week.”
“You mean make an appointment with Cindy.”
“Yes, of course. She knows my schedule best. But make sure she squeezes you in before Friday at four o’clock.”
“What is it?” I asked, swiping the folder off his desk.
“It’s a proposal for a new division,” he said. “One I’m hoping you’ll take a special interest in.”
I furrowed my brow. “A new division?”
“I’m not sure what you see in the kid from Rockford, but we need a strategy if we’re going to accommodate talent like him. I considered what you said about how we used to invest more in clients from humble backgrounds, and I drafted a plan for how I think we could do more of that going forward.”
“You what?”
“I did something nice for my son because I like working with him, and I want him to enjoy his work here for a long time to come.”
