Page 70 of The Puck Bunny

I’m taking a video of Finn and his wife, Vicki, on the dance floor, while surreptitiously looking around for Quinn when I feel a hand—a large one—land on my shoulder. Finn grins and I stop the camera and turn around.

“Quinn.”

“Want to take a break from picture taking for a minute? I’ll buy you a soda.”

I look around for Delaney and she’s nowhere in sight. “Make it an ice water and you’re on,” I say. “It’s been a long night and we still have an hour to go.”

“Maybe you can leave early. I plan to,” he says while we walk to the bar. He orders two ice waters.

“That’s it? What happened to the vintage whiskey?”

“I haven’t been drinking much since I came back East. Some habits are better left in L.A.”

“You’re probably right.” I don’t know what to say now, maybe because I’m too nervous Delaney is going to pop out of nowhere and shout, “A-ha. You’re both fired.”

“Who are you looking for?” He sounds concerned.

“Delaney. Why? Who did you think I was looking for?” The ice princess pops to mind and I wonder if he knows she’s here. All at once I’m ashamed because I haven’t been watching out for him. “Have you seen Princess Romanov yet?”

His face changes and he rolls his eyes. “Yes. We had an encounter. It was short, though not very sweet. It was, at least, polite.”

Relief floods me. “I’m glad. I was worried she was going to cause a scene.”

“No worries. I can handle it.”

“Right, I forgot. You have plenty of practice with women throwing themselves at you. Even me.” Now why on Earth would I remind him of that?

He laughs. “You’re the one woman I’m having a hard time handling.”

“I’m sorry. Truly. The last thing I want to do is make your life more difficult.”

His face softens, but before he has a chance to say something that I’m sure will melt my heart, the princess returns, invading our space near the bar.

“Is it too much to ask you to buy me a drink?” she asks Quinn, attaching herself to his side and ignoring me.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll get you a glass of poison?” He smiles at her and I almost laugh, but I hold back for once.

“You’re so charming. I’d forgotten about your sense of humor. Seriously, Quinn, I’ve missed you. A lot’s happened since… Paris.”

“I hope that means you’ve moved on—”

“Of course. I only ever thought the best of you, thought we had something special.” She shrugs. “Can I help it if I still think we could—”

“We can’t, Anica.” He’s gentled his voice.

She stares at him, then abruptly turns to me. “How about a picture at least, for old times’ sake. Would you mind?”

I smile and raise the camera, suddenly remembering that that’s what I’m supposed to be doing. I check around for a Delaney sighting.

“Please don’t take a photo of us, Sara.” Quinn says quietly. Something in his voice and face, like he’s in pain, makes me stop.

The princess laughs. “Come on, Quinn. What are you worried about?” She waves a hand around and points to another photographer. “There are a dozen other people in the room taking photos. Why so camera-shy now?”

“I don’t want to start any gossip about us.” He grits the words out and I can sense his anger winning out over his earlier sadness.

“How about if I take one and I’ll make sure it’s appropriately captioned so there’s no misunderstanding that you aren’t anything but acquaintances. We’ll keep it gossip-free.” I take a few shots with her hanging off him and him looking like he’s barely putting up with an overzealous fan. I make sure I catch her in the most unflattering angle because that’s the one I’ll post. Everywhere.

“Who knows what might happen now that I’m staying here in the States for a while, Quinn?” She pauses to make sure she has his attention. “Especially since I joined the board of the Brawlers’ Foundation.”