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The slender, impeccably dressed receptionist plasters on a polite smile when I approach her pristine desk. “Hello. Do you have an appointment?”
“Uh, not exactly. I’m here to see Brynn Delaney.”
“Oh.” She looks disappointed, like she’d expected me to admit I’d just woken up from a twenty-year coma and accidentally wandered into their building. “I’m sorry. She just left.”
My face falls, and for some reason, she takes pity on me—the poor, fashion-challenged amnesiac—and adds, “But she’s only one floor up, at the coffee cart on the terrace. You can probably catch her there.”
“Thank you, thank you!” I gush before rushing back to the elevator.
Thankfully, I’m alone this time and enjoy the thirty second gawk-free zone until the doors open on the next floor, revealing the fanciest looking cafeteria I’ve ever seen. Through a long wall of windows, I spot the terrace—a large outdoor space with cozy seating and a breathtaking view of the city. There’s a coffee cart stationed near the stone perimeter, and as I approach, I spot Brynn pouring a sugar packet into a paper cup. Oliver stands beside her, one hand on the small of her back as he leans in to whisper something in her ear.
I instantly freeze, mesmerized by the startling exchange. I wait for Brynn to pull away and shirk off his hand, but she laughs softly, gazing up at him with an expression of open affection. There’s an undeniable intimacy between them that transcends the bond of coworkers, even friendship, and I’m stunned into a silent stupor. Obviously, I missed something monumental in the handful of days I was back in LA, and my heart sinks with regret.
As they move away from the cart with their coffee—Oliver’s hand still poised on Brynn’s lower back—she catches my eye. For a moment, neither of us moves, speaks, or even blinks. We simply stare like a couple of jaywalkers caught in a cabbie’s headlights.
Finally, she asks in bewilderment, “Quincy? What are you doing here?” Her baffled gaze travels over my T-shirt, landing on my wrist as I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. There’s a spark of recognition in her dark eyes when she notices the bracelet. Her gaze locks on mine, questioning.
“I’m here to say what I should have said ten years ago.” I gather a breath, valiantly ignoring the ogling onlookers. “I’m sorry for not joining you in New York all those years ago like I’d promised. I’m sorry I let our friendship fizzle, as if it didn’t matter to me. As ifyoudidn’t matter to me.” My voice trembles, but I keep going. “The truth is, you’ve always been like a sister to me. The kind of sister I always wanted. Loving, supportive, and patient with all my faults. But I took you for granted. And I let you down, more times than I can count. I know I don’t deserve a second chance. Or a third. But I went too long without you in my life, and I can’t go back to a Brynn-less existence.”
The words spill out of me like a wellspring of thoughts and emotions that have gone unspoken for far too long. And while they’re heartfelt, I’m not entirely sure they’re coherent. To be honest, the whole scene is a bit of a blur, and before I realize what I’m doing, I drop down on one knee, clearly influenced by binge-watching too many Hallmark movies.
Brynn and Oliver—and the entire terrace of transfixed spectators—gape at me, but I’ve come too far to turn back now.
I slip the bracelet off my wrist and offer it to her like some sort of odd, oversized engagement ring. “Brynn Rose Delaney, will you do me the honor of being my best friend forever? Until death do us part?”
In the wake of my peculiar platonic proposal, the early spring air turns eerily silent, save for a single bird whose lilting twitter almost sounds like it’s laughing at me. I tune it out, intent on Brynn’s reaction.
A string of emotions flickers across her face as she processes my bizarre behavior.
I hold my breath, suddenly understanding how a man must feel when he pours out his heart, putting it on display to either be received or rejected for the entire world to watch.
After what seems like an eternity, Brynn steps forward and tearfully plucks the bracelet from my gasp. “Yes! Of course I will, you big goofball. Best friends forever.”
She slips the bracelet over her wrist, and I jump to my feet, gathering her in a bone-crushing hug while our befuddled audience applauds with the kind of disjointed cadence that betrays their confusion.
When we break apart, Brynn is grinning broadly. “If this is your apology to me, I can’t wait to see what you have planned for Ethan,” she teases.
My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again. I’ve missed his slanted smile, the silky smooth thrum of his voice, the way his presence simultaneously puts me at ease and makes my skin tingle with excitement. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s meeting with potential investors for MAD Market.”
My heart swells, and I’m so thrilled for him, I think it might actually burst. But I’d promised to be there. “Do you know where?”
“I do, why?”
“Because I’ve missed too many important moments already. Which reminds me, I want to hear about all ofthis,” I say, wagging my finger between her and Oliver.
Brynn blushes. “Let’s just say you were right.”
“I need details. But first, I need the address for Ethan’s meeting.” I spin on my heel, ready to march off as soon as I know where I’m headed.
“Wait, Quincy.” Brynn grabs my hand. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“You don’t?” My spirits falter as I meet her gaze, suddenly teetering between hope and apprehension.
Her lips quirk as she eyes my wardrobe. “We might need to do something about that T-shirt first.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
