Page 71 of What We Got Wrong

“Scott,” he corrected her, shaking their hands each in turn.

“Good to see you again,” Mel said. “What did you think of our presentation?”

“I thought it was well done,” he replied simply. Quinn was proud for a moment, before he continued, “It’s my understanding that you two have been working my teams, trying to drum up business across our different locations. How’s that going?”

Quinn’s heart raced at his words, concern washing over her that they’d overstepped. “Is that okay? We thought it was encouraged for vendors and speakers to connect with the individual teams?”

“Oh, you misunderstand me,” he responded, seeming surprised by her response. “I’m glad to hear my teams have been receptive to training and leadership coaching. You met with Phoenix, correct?”

“Yes, Daniel Copper and his team,” Quinn confirmed. The dinner had gone well the previous night, and they were planning to travel to Arizona sometime in the next quarter for a round of foundational leadership trainings.

“Perfect. I’m going to keep my ear to the ground about you two. We have some different training initiatives coming down the pipeline that we might need support on.”

Mel and Quinn both lost all sense of professionalism in their surprise at what he said.

“Whoa,” Mel breathed.

“It’s just us. We’re limited in how much we can offer,” Quinn said, and she found her eyes darting to Liv for just a moment, wondering if she was aware of the content of this conversation.

Mr. Palmer held his hand up to his mouth, as if whispering a secret to them, and said, “If this works out, you could probably scale up. I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Of course,” Mel replied, recovering before Quinn.

“I look forward to hearing more from Prism,” he said, and it was clear that the conversation was over. He shook both of their hands again before excusing himself.

“Holy fucking shit,” Mel muttered under her breath.

“You took the words out of my mouth,” Quinn replied.

“You’re welcome for bringing you here,” Mel added. “I’m taking credit for this idea.”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Quinn said, slapping her friend on the shoulder. She didn’t care who got the credit when it came down to it. Maybe it wasn’t anything solid, but it felt like they were moving towards something that could be huge for Prism.

Quinn’s thoughts turned again to Liv, still in the room, and she had to force herself not to run to her, to throw her arms around her in excitement. Because…did this complicate things? Did this mean that there was a chance they’d stay in each other’s lives?

No, Quinn had to stop that line of thought, to shoot it down entirely. If any additional projects with J&P moved forward, Mel would have to take point if the project touched Liv’s teams. Quinn could continue to enjoy the rest of the time she had with Liv this week. And then they would part on a real goodbye and leave each other’s lives for good.

She didn’t dare hope for more.

Chapter 26

Quinn

November, Junior Year

After a few days out of town, Quinn came home from a swim meet totally exhausted, ready to curl up next to Liv on the couch and watch a movie. It was her Sunday to pick, and she was still trying to decide what to watch when she entered the apartment, finding Liv already lounging in the living room.

“Hey beautiful person,” Quinn greeted. Liv didn’t match her enthusiasm, but that wasn’t exactly shocking. Even at her most drained, Quinn often had to temper her energy, trying to be more palatable.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Liv murmured, so softly Quinn had to lean in to hear her. Liv took the opportunity and cuddled into her.

“I have to warn you, I’m probably going to pass out during the movie,” Quinn said, snuggling in even closer.

Liv sighed. “Can we skip it? Just go lie down?”

There was something wrong, Quinn was certain. They’d never missed movie night, not when they were both in town. Even when they were apart, there were plenty of times that they’d streamed something while chatting on the phone.

But from the tone of Liv’s voice, from the pained expression Quinn clocked as they pulled apart—her eyebrows furrowed, the corners of her lips turned down—it was clear she didn’t want to talk.