‘Not at all.’ She looked rather flushed, no doubt from the wine and her foray into romance with Blair. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Me neither,’ one local nearby chimed in. ‘I thought she was some hobbit in the hills.’
‘I’ve never seen beauty like it,’ Ebeneezer Screwed said. ‘She’s a hottie.’
‘She’s more than a hottie,’ Ivy said. ‘She looks like classic Hollywood.’
Quinn had to admit Ivy was right. Hermione may have not been on a film set for a couple of decades, but she hadn’t lost her appeal. She commanded the attention of the room just by standing there. It was quite extraordinary to see.
Hermione found her way to Quinn, who still hadn’t left the side of his counter. She turned her back on the audience and looked at him.
‘My heart is pounding,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’
‘Breathe,’ Jerry said. ‘It’s okay.’
‘Are they talking about me?’ She jerked her head back to the crowd, who were in fact looking at her.
‘Not at all.’ Quinn wondered if that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. ‘Not negatively. They’re amazed to see you.’
‘Oh.’ Hermione adjusted the holly in her hair, a wry smile giving her happiness away. ‘Well, I can handle that.’
‘Will you have a photo with Quinn, Hermione?’ Emma asked, swaying but still working her journalistic job.
‘Yes, absolutely.’ Hermione turned back to the crowd, faltering when she realised many people were looking at her. She smiled, regaining her composure, and it amazed Quinn how quickly she could hide the anxiety she must be feeling.
‘Ivy, Blair,’ Quinn said, catching them before they walked away. ‘In the photo, please.’
‘You too,’ Hermione whispered to Jerry, who’d made to step aside.
Emma took a photo of Quinn with those who had helped him the most. He called in Jenny and the drag queens, laughing at the absolute campiness of such a scene. It was the best feeling he’d had all day: love and overwhelming gratitude for these people.
As they dispersed, he wished Noah could have been in the frame with them.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ Quinn said to Hermione when Emma and her cameraman slipped back into the crowd. ‘I know this must have been hard for you.’
‘The press was a bit of a nightmare,’ Hermione admitted, though Quinn doubted they had been. ‘But I need to realise I can’t let them rule my life anymore.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Jerry said.
‘Besides, he brought me here.’ Hermione nudged her brother. ‘Said he saw you at the farm.’
Quinn cleared his throat. ‘That’s right.’
‘My son is a dick,’ Hermione said matter-of-factly. ‘There’s no two ways about it. But please don’t hold him in disregard.’
Quinn sipped his champagne, wanting to choose his words with care. How could he forgive Noah? He didn’t want to offend Hermione, or even put her in the middle of the situation like Harold had his mother. As Quinn thought about it, he didn’t know if there even was a situation to put Hermione in. Noah was fleeting, like a hot winter’s day.
‘I would never do that,’ Quinn said.
Hermione stared at Quinn but didn’t say a word. It made Quinn uncomfortable, and he prayed someone would distract them; take her gaze away from him. It was excruciating seeing those eyes watch him.
‘Why haven’t you been in touch?’ Hermione said. ‘I thought you might stop by so we could discuss the book.’
Quinn felt a jolt, wondering what he could say. Was this Hermione’s way of letting him go? ‘I didn’t know if I would be welcome.’
Hermione blinked, a blank expression on her glamorous face. ‘Because of Noah’s theatrics? Please. That doesn’t need to impede us.’
The fear that had been wrapped around Quinn let go, releasing him into the atmosphere. The rush of relief was enough to make him let out a loud sigh. ‘You don’t know how good that is to hear.’
