They collapsed into a blissful and contented sleep. The temptations of dessert…
Chapter Eleven
Sadie came downstairs with her duffle bag stuffed full and her laptop bag. She heard her dad, in the kitchen, cussing colorfully in Celtic. With her bag, she bumped open the swinging door and when witnessing the scene, began to laugh.
As Quinn moved the old Jewel Tone away from the wall to connect the gas line, her pop paced and flailed his arms in wild panic. All the pots and pans that were stored in the oven were piled on the pine table.
“What’s the disrupt, Pop? I thought you wanted that old door stop fixed and working.”
He glared at her. “And what the hell am I going to do with this mess of cookery? I’d no idea how much stuff your mother had stored in this heap of junk.”
“No rush, Paul. It can be hooked up and working whenever you’re ready to let it rip.” Quinn stepped out from behind the giant pink stove, gave Sadie a peck on the cheek and took her bags off her shoulder. “All ready?”
“Yep. Did you get my bike up on the rack?”
“Uh-huh. The Trek won’t budge when we hop on the Kennedy. I’m sorry Sadie, but I’ll have to drop you off at your apartment and run. I’m meeting my bro Jake, conveniently my legal counsel, for lunch.”
“We can go now.” She hugged her pop and glanced at the chalkboard where she’d scribbled Ginger Lime Shortbread. “Sorry I didn’t get around to making tonight’s dessert.”
“Promise to make it when you come home.” He shooed her and Quinn out of the house.
Quinn threw her luggage in the Jeep, and retrieved a blanket from the back seat. He covered Sadie’s seat and waved at her dad. “See you next week.”
“Damn right, Laughton. And don’t you even think about messing with my baby girl.” He said on a laugh.
“Not me, Mr. Maxon.” He looked at her with a devilish gleam in his eyes.
Sadie tried not to blush and hugged her father again. “Call you later.”
She climbed into the Jeep and tucked her cotton peasant skirt around her legs. Even with the blanket, the seat was scorching hot. She wanted to make sure her skin didn’t touch any of the blazing interior. “You have to have the Jeep top down the whole way?” She rolled her hair up in a ball, secured it with her Brewers baseball cap, and put on her Ray-Bans. “You just want me to fry in the sun again, don’t you, Laughton?”
He shifted the Jeep into gear and started driving slowly away from the house. “Sadie, I don’t want to fry anything or you to burn again. Maybe I should put the top on. This sun’s in a killer mode this afternoon.”
“No. Don’t. I like the breeze.”
He stopped the Jeep at the end of the gravel driveway and looked back at the house. “I don’t think your dad can see us.”
She dropped her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. “What’s the delay?”
He kissed her. “Just want to let you know how sweet you are.”
“You’re a lusty dork. Are we even going to make it to Chicago?”
“Oh yeah. I made reservations at a great place. An old-timer’s restaurant, Club Lucky.”
“Club Lucky? That’s near my apartment. I love that place, they have the best—”
“—caramel-covered apple pie,” he said, with her, laughing.
***
Sadie inhaled the exhaust fumes. “God. It’s great to be back in the city.”
The cabbie behind Quinn honked. “All right, ace. I’m moving.” He turned off Damen onto Charleston Street. “So your place is on Leavitt? Near Shakespeare Street? Nice neighborhood. And pretty.”
“It’s a garden apartment. Shakespeare’s English roses wouldn’t be able to bloom down in our basement.” She clutched onto the Jeep’s roll bar as Quinn took a sharp turn onto Leavitt. As they drove past her brownstone, she glanced at the scaffolding on the building across the street. “My roommate, Ellen, was fortunate to find the place before Bucktown’s trendy makeover.”
He turned the corner onto Dickens Avenue.
“There aren’t many parking spots on this street with all the construction workers and trucks,” Sadie said.
Quinn swung the Jeep into a roomie space and parked.
“Wow. You must have a fairy godmother with a magical parking wand. I won’t have to rush to survive as I pull off my bike. You are lucky.”
“Never luck. Don’t believe in that nonsense. It’s Friday; the workers on the site have probably taken off to start their weekend.” He glanced down at his watch. “Have to meet Jake at the Wrigley Building in an hour. Meet you back here at six? The dinner reservation is at seven.”
“Sure.”
He reached into the trunk, pulled out the duffel bag, and handed it to her. “Do you always travel so light?”
Sadie slung it over her shoulder. She dropped the Trek on the sidewalk and straightened out the front wheel. “I was able to leave most of my stuff here last spring. Ellen sublet my room to another grad student until the end of July. Want to come in and meet my roommate?”
“Another time, okay? If I don’t get out of here, I’ll never make it downtown in time to meet my brother.”
They walked toward her place. “Back home in Chicago. Twenty-sixty Leavitt. Thankfully.” She spied down into her basement window, which looked out onto the sidewalk. “Nice to know my medusa-style succulent has survived without me.”
Staring across the street at the warehouse being rehabbed, Quinn abruptly turned and pulled her into his arms. “Don’t think I could say the same.”
“Trying to charm me out of my clothes, again?”
He grinned. “Is that an offer? Sounds tempting, but if I arrive at the firm tardy Jake will give me a tongue lashing.”
“Jake’s your baby brother?” Sadie asked as she rummaged around the bottom of her messenger bag to find her keys. “He sounds kind of bossy.”
“He’s my kid bro, but don’t let our birth order fool you. The man’s a sharp lawyer. And I may give him a hard time, but the guy works harder than Eddie and Lindy combined.”
She sighed. “I already miss those two.”
“Eddie will be coming into the city next week. Maybe I can ask him to bring Lindy along. For a road trip. We can get together for dinner, the four of us.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Sadie unlocked the door and pushed open the mammoth mahogany slab of wood sporting six-panels. In the entry, a pile of magazines and letters sat in the corner on the marble floor under the line of steel mail slots. “Oh great. The post office delivered all my Architectural Digests.”
Quinn carried her bike into the foyer and leaned it against the wall. “Nice old building. I like it.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll be back sooner than later.”
Sadie picked up a stack of mail and started thumbing through it. “Six o’clock. Don’t be late. I’ve been craving caramel apple pie from Club Lucky all summer.” She glanced at the cover of a Chicago Magazine. “There’s a new exhibit opening at the Field Museum.”
“Can’t wait to talk about it at dinner.”
“Yeah,” Sadie said absently and then smiled at him.
He started to step outside.
“Wait. Quinn?”
He turned around. “Yes Sadie?”
“Thanks. For everything.”
He smiled. “Anytime.”
After he left she watched him jog down the street through the glass transom beside the door. His lean legs moved so fast he was around the corner before she could blink. “You are too sexy.”
Shoving her mail into the duffel, she carried her bike into the building. She grasped the handlebars as it bounced down the flight of stairs toward the garden apartment. The hallway, lit brightly with florescent wall sconces along the long hall, was quiet. There wasn’t any noise coming from the other basement apartment.
Sadie hoped Eric and Rob, the guys who lived across the hall, still lived there. They constantly partied last year. She had heard some terrific music. A lot
of Foo Fighters had blared from their place almost every weekend, but she never joined them. Instead, she had watched a lot of Rick Steves with Bryan. “Yuck. Thank God that’s over.”
She had to focus, finish her thesis this semester and find work by the end of the year. Jobs in architectural history were few and far in between, she wanted to make sure she was job-ready with a masters in historic preservation. The Chicago Art Institute had been more than patient since she took a leave to help her mom.
Sadie opened the door and Ellen ran up to hug her. She almost lost her balance and dropped the Trek.
“I just called your dad. I wanted to know where you were,” she said excitedly.
Sadie wrangled out of Ellen’s tight embrace. “I’m back. I’ve missed you, too.”
“Where is Bryan?” Ellen asked. “Wasn’t he supposed to drive you back from Lake Geneva? The guy I saw, who walked past our window, wasn’t wearing khakis. What’s going on? I have to admit, one glimpse of the stranger’s jeans made me a little hot. What a great pair of legs. Who is he?”
Sadie parked her bike against the wall. She smiled as she glanced at the threadbare pink velvet couch and tangerine loveseat in the living room. Home. “A long story. Can I explain it to you later? I need a shower, desperately.”
“Sure. But about the shower. It’ll have to be a cold one. The hot water heater is busted. I called the manager. It won’t get replaced until Monday.”
“Such is life. Still glad to be in Chicago.” Sadie headed toward her bedroom, dragging the duffel on the tile floor. “Any other news I should know about?”
Ellen hesitated. “Well. I have one big announcement. I got a job at the Field Museum.”
Sadie threw her bags on the bare mattress in the postage stamp-sized room and turned around. “Seriously? Doing what?”
“Yep. Until the end of summer, I’ll be playing lackey for the director of exhibits. But once the semester starts I’ll be working as a part-time research assistant for the curator of the Mummy exhibit. By next year it could turn into a full-time position. If it goes well.”
Sadie hugged her. “Congratulations. I hope some of your luck rubs off on me. I need to call Frank. See if my dang advisor has any job leads. If not I can go down Damen and knock on doors. The Cupcake Factory might need help. Desserts are in my blood. Might hold me over until I’m done with my thesis.”
“So, how long are you going keep me in suspense?” Ellen went into the linen closet, pulled out a pile of sheets. “Who’s the long-legged guy with the jeans and work boots? I can’t wait until later. I have to leave soon to meet my study group on campus.”
“We met at the diner. He’s a contractor slash renovator. His name is Quinn Laughton. He was working on the Wrigley mansion across the lake.”
“Quinn Laughton. Sounds sexy. Is he from Chicago?”
“Yes,” Sadie said, but paused. It hadn’t occurred to her that Quinn might be from anywhere other than Chicago. How did she come to make that assumption? She hadn’t bothered to ask Quinn a lot of questions. She blamed her ignorance on great sex. At dinner she’d drill him for basic stats. “He’s sort of unique.”
“Unique? Sounds titillating. Glad to have you back. And without Bryan. I didn’t trust that guy. Too perfect.”
“Yeah. A perfect whack job. Quinn’s easygoing. Kind of down-to-earth. With him, what you see is what you get. He’s helping my dad out with the diner.”
“Nice.” Ellen retrieved hangers from Sadie’s closet. “Have to say it took all my will power not to move into this bedroom after Angie left. I hope I don’t have to sublet your room again, but if I do, I’m taking this room and subletting my own. You have the best light coming in from the south-facing parking lot.”
“Maybe more sunshine. But barely enough space. I regularly trip over my bed to get to my dresser.”
“Someday, roomie. We’ll look back on these years and want to re-live the ramen noodle and macaroni and cheese days while we’re sipping champagne and eating caviar.”
“Not me. I’m not into fish eggs. But it would be nice to be able to have the bathroom to myself. And hot water.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn punched in the four-digit security code to open the underground parking garage below the cover of Wacker Drive. He never liked parking too close to the Wrigley Building, too much traffic off of Michigan Avenue. Every time he had parked on the side streets, he’d come out and find another ding on one of his car doors. All his cars had dents, he could count how many meetings he’d had with Jake from counting his body shop appointments.
After slipping the bikini top back onto the Jeep, he texted Jake to tell him he was on the way to the office suite. Taking the steps two at a time, he jogged up to street level. The mid-day sun blinded him as he was reintroduced to the traffic on Michigan Avenue.
Slinging the leather lap top satchel over his shoulder, he zigzagged between the pedestrians who clogged the sidewalk by stopping on the bridge to look down at the Chicago River. His nostrils filled with the slightly stale smell of fresh Lake Michigan water mixed with rancid river, but a nice change from the country air.
His cell rang. While he waited at the crosswalk, a tour bus—with an open top—came to a stop down the street from him. Quinn heard the guide describe the architectural history of the Wrigley Building to the tourists snapping pictures. Quinn rolled his eyes and answered the phone.
“Where are you?” a woman with a silky voice demanded.
“I’m across the street. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home in Glen Ellyn painting the nursery and arranging baby furniture?”
“Forever a bachelor and a typical guy. Don’t you know anything? I’m two weeks away from the delivery date. I can’t be near the smell of fresh paint. And I don’t want to bring this kid into the world too early by lifting baby cradles. I’m here waiting for you, my dearest brother-in-law.”
Quinn crossed the street and pushed through the revolving doors of the iconic Wrigley Building. “Well, Suze. In the glass elevator and on my way up.” He watched the open hallways as he rose to the top floor where the law offices of Laughton, Wrigley and Morris were located. “I’m down the hallway. Don’t make any fast moves. I don’t want to be the one to blame if my niece or nephew arrives early. Jake will never let me live it down.”
He stepped off the elevator that landed directly into the plush penthouse office suite. Suze waddled up to him. “Your brother and I have a bone to pick. Why didn’t you tell us that you weren’t coming back until today? Kate’s been calling me incessantly. What’s up with you?”
“The solar panels on the mansion—and the heat—slowed me down. The past two weeks have put the renovation behind by a month, if not longer.” He kissed his sister-in-law’s cheek. ”What kind of mood is my brother in? Crabby or cynical?”
“Oh, the usual. I came here to remind him that we have a child on the way. He should be ordering cigars, or packs of Juicy Fruit. Getting ready for our joyful arrival. Instead he’s obsessing on the latest acquisition. And worried about the new owners of this building. He doesn’t like their renovation plans.”
“He takes our family business seriously. I should thank him for taking the lead. The Wrigley empire is in good hands.”
“Quit sounding like Darth Vader. Jake is doing the light work—finances. You’re out making sure Wrigley properties don’t crumble away.” She spoke softly, “You could make Jake’s’ life easier…by taking on this building’s renovation.” Suze waggled her brows. “You are the best man to handle the job. It is your family’s legacy.”
Quinn laughed. “Now who’s sounding like Lord Vader? I have enough on my plate.”
“Besides the solar panels, were there any other problems at your great grandparents’ lake house?”
“Coming along swell. Will have to go back in a week or two when they arrive. My main man is trusty but I want to get it done without any more damn interference.” He swung his brother’s door open. The office, surround
ed in windows, gave a panoramic view of Lake Michigan.
“Finally. Where the hell have you been? Slogging through pastures of cow shit in Wisconsin?” Jake swung his feet off his desk and loped over to him.
“Doing a favor for grandma. That lake house of hers is a pain in the ass. Did find a great diner to pick up and add to my collection, though.”
His brother came up to him and gave him a big hug. “Glad to see you.”
“He looks good doesn’t he?” Suze said as she inspected him head to toe. “You got some sun. Nice. You’re looking pink. Tanned, too. It was a good thing for you to spend your summer in Lake Geneva.”
Jake looked at him closer. “I’ll be damned. You aren’t pink.” He motioned for Suze to stand beside him. “Look at him.”
Quinn felt like a micro-specimen under the scrutiny of his brother and sister-in-law. “Cut it out. What are you two talking about?”
“Did you find time to fool around?” Suze said. “You look like you got lucky while fixing the family mansion. Is your latest conquest a fresh-faced country girl?”
Quinn liked his brother, for the most part. But he and Suze constantly butted their heads into his love life. It wearied him and bugged the crap out of him. He wanted to go home, shower, and get back to Sadie. He didn’t want to answer his brother or sister-in-law’s questions.
He cooled down fast, rather than let them know about Sadie. He wanted to keep her under wraps. Once he told them about her, he wouldn’t get out of the office until he answered their questions. They could keep him trapped in the Wrigley building until midnight.
“Don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. The sunshine in Lake Geneva was brutal. Can we go over the latest trust numbers? I want to make sure I can follow through with buying the diner in Lake Geneva. And get back to my other deal, acquiring BBRD Antiquities. The shop needs a once over before I move mother’s unwanted antiques from Lake Geneva into storage.”
“Kate’s flying in on Saturday before the museum gala.”
“Why?” Quinn went over to the wet bar and poured a tumbler full of mineral water.
Just Desserts Page 8