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Part of the Asperger’s, I’m told.
I really hate thinking about that. It took a lot of therapy for me to understand it wasn’t a disability. It’s what makes my brain so technical, I guess. I just don’t like it when people bring it up or ask me about it. It’s not like it defines me. It just makes me a little blunt and literal. Yes, I take everything literally. The visual caused by Quinn’s baby-heading-out reference made my stomach turn. I guess it would be funny to other people.
God, I have got to lighten up. This woman’s my polar opposite, but she’s all I think about. I glance at my Rolex and see it’s almost four p.m. Why hasn’t she called me? I stare at the computer screen. I can’t concentrate on this shit.
I hit the call button on the desk phone. “Yes, Lincoln?” Tricia answers.
“Hey, Trish, can I get some coffee, please?”
“Of course. Be right there.”
“Thanks.”
I hit the button and blow out a breath. I can’t handle any more of this number-crunching today.
Two knocks and the door opens. Tricia sets down a ceramic mug with the Silver Breweries logo on it on my desk.
“You’re the best,” I say with a smile, lifting the cup to my lips.
“Thanks,” she replies with a smile. “Hey, you been doin’ okay lately?” she asks.
“Yeah, sure. Why do you ask, Trish?”
She stares at me, her light-brown eyes scrutinizing me. She slides some graying blonde hair behind her ear and puts a hand on the hip of her red skirt. “It’s just you seem a little different. I was going to say off, but I don’t like that term. I like this difference in you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say defensively.
“Well, I’ll get to the bottom of it. Especially if it’s a woman,” she says with a wink.
“You are highly insubordinate,” I reply with a smirk.
“Don’t I know it!” she sing-songs, waving as she disappears out my door, closing it behind her.
My cell vibrates on my desk, and my mood is instantly lifted when I see Quinn’s name on the screen.
“Lincoln Silverstone,” I answer, then immediately cringe. What is my problem? I could have just saidhi.
“Well, hiya, Linc! It’s Quinn.” She sounds happy, and I’m so relieved.
I take a sip of coffee. “You have good news for me, I hope?”
“I’ll do ya one better. I got two pieces of good news, and one piece of so-so news. But I’m hungry. Are you busy? Can you meet me for supper somewhere?”
I sit up in my chair. Did she just ask me out? Hell yes, I’ll meet her. “Absolutely. You name the place and I’ll be there.”
“Well, I’m tryin’ to decide between two Mexican places because I really want tacos. I’ll text ya!”
I chuckle. “Okay, little dixie. I look forward to it.”
She giggles. Literally giggles, and says, “Bye.”
Man, what’s got her in such a good mood? I can’t fucking wait to find out. I immediately text Lucas to pick me up. I shut down my computer and then down the rest of the coffee, the prospect of seeing the gorgeous Quinn Walker already lifting my spirits.
***
After I’m dropped off at home, I give Lucas the night off and drive my BMW i8 to the restaurant. Dressed in a black V-neck shirt, my light Overland jacket, and dark-blue jeans with boots, I make my way inside La Mamasita’s and immediately smile when I see Quinn waiting there for me in jeans and a tight-fitting Metallica tee. My smile turns to a frown when I see her wearing a sling on her arm.
“Is it broken?” I ask, pointing.
