Casting Lacey

by Elle Spencer

  Quinn shook her head as she smiled. “You confound me. How is that not considered flirting?”

  Lacey didn’t have much self-control left. If this wasn’t some sort of trick to get her to admit her feelings for Quinn, and they actually ended up having sex – Quinn would regret it so badly, she’d probably try to kick Lacey out in the morning.

  Again.

  And Lacey’s heart would be broken.

  Again.

  She grabbed her phone and slid into her flip-flops. “You can’t just hold out your fucking hand, Quinn. You also have to tell me you love me. And by the way…you’re both the smartest and dumbest woman I’ve ever met if you didn’t already know that.” She grabbed the bottle of wine – what was left of it – and stood up. “Also, you’d fucking know it if I flirted with you for real, because you wouldn’t be able to resist it, and I’d have been three fingers deep by now.” She turned and sauntered to the guesthouse.

  “Lace! Come back! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. Come back, Lace! We have to celebrate!”

  Celebrate. That seemed to be something they were incapable of doing together. Lacey held up the bottle as she kept walking. “To the good life!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lacey sat at her kitchen table rubbing her temples. She was trying to decide what she regretted most about last night; her words or the wine. It was the wine. Definitely the wine. But also, her words. Three fingers deep? Who talks like that?

  All that seduction in under a minute business had Lacey in a twist. Had Quinn actually tried to get her in bed last night, or was it all just a horrible dream? A misunderstanding, maybe. That’s it, Lacey had heard wrong. Hadn’t she? God, her head hurt. And her stupid phone wouldn’t stop ringing – some number she didn’t recognize.

  It rang again and this time she picked it up, ready to yell at whoever was trying to sell her something. “Yes?” She stood up, but her expression fell as she listened. “No, that can’t be. No, I just talked to him yesterday. No, no, no! Oh, god!” Lacey sank back onto the bed. “Of course. Yes, I’m on my way.”

  ***

  Quinn opened the guesthouse door and found Lacey zipping up her suitcase. She threw a hand in the air. “Perfect. That’s just perfect. And you were probably going to leave without saying goodbye.”

  Lacey grabbed her sweater and put it on, completely ignoring Quinn. She set her suitcase on the floor and looked at her watch. “Shit,” she whispered. She finally looked up, revealing puffy, tear-stained eyes. “Is my cab here?”

  Quinn softened her tone. “Okay, look…we just need to sit down and talk.”

  “I have to get to the airport.”

  “So, you’re going to run away again? Well, this time I’m not going to beg you to come back.”

  Lacey grabbed her purse and suitcase, trying like hell to hold back the tears. She didn’t have time to break down. That could wait until she was on the plane. She wheeled her carry-on outside and hurried past the pool.

  Quinn followed her to the side gate. “Will you please just talk to me for a second? Let me apologize? I know what I said was inappropriate. I was just so happy and that clouded my judgment. I didn’t mean to make you feel cheap, and I certainly didn’t mean to assume that you would just jump into my bed.”

  Lacey tried to punch in the gate code but her fingers were too shaky. She stepped aside and leaned against the fence, her breath becoming so shallow she was almost hyperventilating. “Please open the gate.”

  Quinn shook her head. “No. This is ridiculous, Lacey. You can’t run away. We have to talk. We have to…”

  Lacey’s face contorted, a deep sob making its way up from her chest. She gasped for air and said, “My dad,” before she completely broke down.

  Quinn grabbed Lacey as she fell to the ground, softening the blow. She took her phone out of her back pocket, hit a button and held it to her ear, keeping an arm wrapped around Lacey. “Answer, goddammit.” Lacey grabbed Quinn’s shirt and sobbed into her chest. “Dammit, Amy, answer your phone.”

  Quinn’s assistant finally answered. “Amy! I need a jet ASAP. New York. NOW, AMY!” Quinn dropped her phone on the ground and wrapped both arms around Lacey. “I’ve got you, honey. Just hang on.” She heard the cab honk his horn, so she picked her phone back up and punched in the code for the front gate. She kissed Lacey’s head. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  She ran back into the house and grabbed a twenty from her purse. When she returned a few seconds later, she had let the driver know his services wouldn’t be necessary. Then she went back to Lacey and urged her to stand up. “Come on, honey. Let’s go back into the house. I’ll get us to the airport.”

  Quinn took a few minutes to pack a bag, insisting that Lacey sit in her bedroom while she haphazardly pulled clothes from her closet. Whatever she didn’t pack, she could buy in New York. She wanted to ask questions, but thought better of it, since at the moment, Lacey wasn’t crying. She was sitting there, twisting a tissue between her fingers and staring at the floor, her face paler than Quinn had ever seen it before.

  When they got to the Santa Monica airport, Amy was there, waiting. She asked only one question. “Two or three?”

  Quinn kept her arm wrapped around Lacey and mouthed the word “three.” Amy nodded and picked up her emergency overnight bag, following them onto the plane.

  ***

  Quinn was right behind Lacey as she unlocked the door to her father’s Brooklyn apartment. He hadn’t died here, that had happened at school. Quinn was relieved Lacey wouldn’t have to see any remnants of his death; a chair overturned, or a spilled cup of coffee he’d dropped when the pain hit him. She wouldn’t have to look at a certain spot and conjure up memories of this is where my dad took his last breath, and how painful that last breath must’ve been.

  Everything seemed in order. A book sitting on the kitchen table that he’d probably read a few pages of before going off to work. A multi-colored afghan was folded neatly on the sofa. One made by Daria, Quinn guessed.

  The pictures on the walls were all hanging straight and the shoes by the door were evenly spaced. Ben was more like Quinn, it seemed, than his own daughter, when it came to tidiness. She could appreciate his little world. Warm and inviting, just like the man himself.

  Lacey hadn’t stepped very far into the apartment. Quinn stood behind her and removed Lacey’s coat, then her own. She hung them on a coat rack, next to Ben’s navy-blue Yankees windbreaker. When she turned back around, Lacey had gone into the small galley kitchen. She stood motionless, staring at the sink. Quinn was about to say something when Lacey reached out and unplugged the coffee maker and the toaster.

  There really weren’t that many dirty dishes, certainly not enough to warrant the entire sink being filled with soapy water. That didn’t matter. Quinn grabbed a dish towel and stood next to Lacey, ready to dry what she’d washed. Only one plate made it into Quinn’s hand, but Lacey wouldn’t let it go. She gripped that plate with all of her might as the inevitable tears filled her eyes.

  Quinn pried her fingers off of the plate and set it down. Lacey grabbed the edge of the counter and bent over, resting her forehead on the sink. She was gasping for air as deep, heavy sobs worked their way up from her chest. Her knees buckled and hit the floor. “Why? Why?”

  Quinn tried to swallow back her own emotions as she knelt next to Lacey. She sat on the floor, leaning against the cupboard and pulled Lacey into her arms.

  ***

  Quinn sat on the edge of Ben’s bed, watching Lacey’s every move, but also taking in the photos in the room. It was basically a shrine to Lacey’s mother – a beautiful woman with long, dark hair, just like Lacey.

  She heard a crashing noise, so she ran into the bathroom. The mirror was broken. Lacey was leaning over the sink, her jaw flexed and her knuckles bleeding. There were several prescription bottles lying in the sink. “He didn’t tell me,” Lacey ground out.

  Quinn glanced at the bottles. Ben had a heart issue, and someh
ow, he thought not telling his daughter was the best course of action? It didn’t make sense, after what Lacey had already been through with her mother’s death. Or, maybe it did. Now was not the time to judge Ben. He obviously had his reasons, none of which Lacey would ever understand. Quinn took the bloody, shaking hand in hers. She looked at it carefully and set it back down. “Where’s your dad’s first aid kit?”

  ***

  Lacey opened her eyes and looked around, trying to figure out where she was. She felt the throb in her hand and looked at the bandage. Oh yeah. The mirror I smashed.

  Quinn was at the door, signing for room service and also giving an autograph. Lacey rolled over and looked around the hotel suite. She was in a king-sized bed that Quinn had obviously slept in as well. She quickly lifted the sheet to find she’d slept in the nude.

  “Oh good, you’re awake,” Quinn rolled the table into the room.

  Lacey tucked the sheet under her arms and sat up. “I’m naked. Did you undress me?”

  “Oh, that. Yeah, your father died, so I decided to fuck you in your sleep.”

  Lacey took the offered cup of coffee from Quinn. “Sorry,” she sheepishly replied.

  Quinn sat on the edge of the bed and felt Lacey’s forehead. “You were burning up last night, so I forced you to take a cool shower. I have a doctor coming in half an hour. I don’t know if it’s just stress, or if you’re coming down with something again.” She took Lacey’s bandaged hand in hers. “He’ll check your hand as well.”

  Lacey’s eyes filled with tears as she recalled the previous evening. “Thank you, for going to the morgue with me. I couldn’t do it alone.”

  “Oh honey.” Quinn wiped Lacey’s tears away. “No one should ever go through that alone.”

  Lacey set her coffee on the bedside table and leaned back against the headboard. “I have to plan his funeral. I have to clean out his apartment. I have to…”

  “No.” Quinn took Lacey’s hand. “Amy and I will help with the funeral and everything else can wait until you’re ready.”

  Lacey covered her eyes. Her body started to shake. No matter how hard she tried to hold it together, she couldn’t. Because this couldn’t possibly be happening to her. Not again. It was too soon. Her dad was supposed to grow old and be a grandpa one day. He never pushed Lacey to have kids, but she knew that was his dream. He would’ve been good at it too. The best grandpa ever. She would’ve had a dumb sweatshirt made that said just that. And he would’ve proudly worn it.

  She gasped for air and managed to whisper, “He was all I had.”

  “That’s not true.” Quinn got on the bed and straddled Lacey’s legs. She pulled at Lacey’s hands. “Look at me.” Lacey’s hands flopped to her sides, but she wouldn’t open her eyes. “Lacey, look at me.” Quinn cupped her cheeks. “You have me. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.” Lacey finally opened her eyes and blinked back the tears. “BFFs, Lace. Remember? BFFs.”

  Lacey didn’t feel comforted. Nothing would comfort her right now, and if anything, Quinn’s words were making it worse. She didn’t need a fucking BFF. She needed her dad. Ben Matthews. Her hero. Her rock.

  Her eyes flicked around the hotel room. She couldn’t remember how they got there. She didn’t even remember having a fever last night. Had she eaten anything? No. She couldn’t eat. Probably wouldn’t ever eat again. That was silly. Of course, she would eat again. Her stomach roiled and her eyes went wide. She pushed Quinn off of her in one, swift move and ran to the toilet.

  There wasn’t anything left in her stomach, but apparently her body didn’t know that. She knelt over the toilet for what felt like hours, dry heaving and feeling so weak, she draped her arm over the toilet and lay on it, not giving a shit that it was a toilet.

  She didn’t last long in that position. Quinn wrapped a robe around her and pulled her back into her arms. Lacey opened her eyes long enough to make sure it was Quinn’s slender fingers resting on her chest, letting her know she wasn’t alone. Of course, it was Quinn. Who else would it be?

  Maybe BFFs were okay after all. Lacey slid her hand under Quinn’s hand and intertwined their fingers. She stared at their joined hands until her eyelids got too heavy to keep open.

  ***

  Lacey sat by her father’s grave, wanting to be alone with him before they lowered him into the ground. Quinn hadn’t left Lacey’s side until that very moment. It killed her to do so, but she watched from a distance, giving Lacey the space she needed. She tucked her hands into her black wool coat and checked the sky again. Rain had been threatening all day and she prayed the skies wouldn’t open up before Lacey could say her final goodbyes.

  Amy walked up and stood next to Quinn. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s hanging in there.”

  “She was so strong up there, talking about her dad. I don’t think I could that.”

  Lacey had barely been able to say a few words at a time without crying, so when she said she wanted to speak at her father’s funeral, Quinn was concerned, wondering if she’d be able to get through it without breaking down. “I owe it to him,” she’d said.

  Quinn, along with everyone else, watched in awe as Lacey courageously told her father’s life story and also, her parent’s love story with such love and wit and that she had the whole room laughing and crying with her.

  “She’s an amazing woman.” Quinn gave Amy a sad smile. “Don’t you think?” It was a dumb question. Amy was quite possibly Lacey’s biggest fan.

  Amy turned to her. “She’s incredible, and I’m so happy you two found each other. It’s better than any love story I’ve ever seen on TV or in the movies, because it’s so real, you know?”

  Quinn’s smile faded. Amy didn’t know the truth, that it was all a big sham. No one knew, except Jack. She forced a smile. “You really think so?”

  Amy put her arm around her boss. “I’ve never seen you this happy, Quinn. Ever. And it’s so obvious how much you love Lacey. It’s written all over your face every time you look at her. And the way you’re taking care of her? We should all be so lucky.”

  Quinn met Amy’s gaze. “I do love her,” she whispered, unable to deny it anymore.

  Jack walked up and stood on the other side of Quinn, resting his hand on her back. “We need to get you two back in the limo.”

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn looked around, wondering if the paparazzi had shown up. It was, after all, only a few days ago that the photos of them kissing had gone viral. Fake kissing, Quinn corrected herself.

  “Just a few cameras.”

  “Just keep them back, Jack. She needs time alone with him.”

  “I’ll try. What would you like me to do about Lacey’s ex?”

  Amy glanced behind her. “That’s Lacey’s ex? She’s gorgeous!” She quickly tried to make up for her outburst by leaning in and whispering, “Not as pretty as you, of course.” She glanced behind her again. “Oh god, she’s coming this way.”

  Quinn didn’t turn around. “Thank you, Amy. Will you make sure my mother gets home okay?” She folded her arms, steeling herself for whatever came next. “I’ll handle the ex, Jack.”

  Amy and Jack walked away, passing Dani as they went.

  “Quinn Kincaid, in the flesh. My life is now complete.”

  Quinn turned to find a beautiful young woman approaching her. “You must be Dani.”

  “Daniela Cordoza,” she said, offering her hand. Quinn looked at the hand and reluctantly took it.

  Quinn had been expecting this. She assumed Dani would attend the funeral and Lacey had described her perfectly, although she didn’t expect the strong Spanish accent. She took in the dark almond eyes, full lips and long black hair before she pulled her eyes away from Dani and turned back to Lacey.

  Dani stood as close as possible and folded her arms, mimicking Quinn’s stance. “It’s so sad that he’s gone. He was like a second father to me. Did you have a chance to meet him?”

  “Yes, I did. He was a good man.”

 
Dani gave Quinn a sideways glance. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

  Quinn kept her eyes on Lacey. “Why are you being so polite? Surely you’re upset that Lacey and I are dating.”

  “Yes, well, what you don’t know is that I will always own Lacey’s heart. And even though we’ve both had our little flings, our destinies will realign, and my princess…my future wife and the mother of our children…will come home. Of this you can be sure.”

  Quinn turned and gave the woman her best glare. “You know, you can say it with that Sofia Vergara accent all you want, but it’s still just horseshit. I know what you did to Lacey’s heart.”

  Dani gave her a closed lip smile. “I’d like to pay my respects now, and also my parents are here. It’s time they met my future wife.”

  Quinn got in front of Dani, blocking her way. “That’s not a good idea. This isn’t the place.”

  Dani glanced over at two people standing by a limousine and waved them forward. “They would also like to meet their favorite TV star. Maybe get an autograph?”

  Quinn’s jaw flexed as she tried to control her anger. She wanted to rip this woman apart with her bare hands, or at the very least have the security guards Jack had hired drag her away. But that wouldn’t help Lacey. “You do understand that Lacey is experiencing unimaginable grief right now, and your request for an autograph is both callous and wildly inappropriate. And the gall you have to expect Lacey to be polite to two people who refused to even acknowledge her existence…and on the day of her own father’s funeral, is so far beyond the pale, I’m struggling to believe you have even one caring bone in your body.”

  Dani smiled again, seeming way too calm by Quinn’s estimation. “Be nice to my parents. I’d hate for them to feel unwelcome at my fiancée’s father’s funeral.”

  “Fiancée?” Quinn wanted to grab the woman walking away from her. Fiancée? What the hell? Was this woman totally batshit?

  Quinn watched helplessly as Dani sauntered toward Lacey. “Shit,” she whispered. When she heard Dani’s parents speaking Spanish behind her, she put on a fake smile and turned around. She could at least keep them at bay.