by Ann Everett
“Those smell divine.”
Raynie stuck a candle in one, and passed it to Quinn. “Happy Birthday. Today is your day. I’ve made us spa appointments. We’re getting the full treatment. Body. Nails. Feet. I read reviews that this place has the best pre-natal massage in the city. You’ll feel like a new woman.”
“I hope so because the old one feels fat.”
“The last trimester is the hardest, but you haven’t gained that much weight.” Raynie reached over and patted Quinn’s belly. “I can’t wait for her to get here. After we’re done at the spa, let’s baby shop. I want to buy something frilly for my goddaughter.”
Quinn sighed. “I keep hoping Dak will mention getting the nursery ready, but he doesn’t even want to discuss names, so you and I may have to paint the room.”
“Well, I’m pumped. You going for a theme? Princess, fairy, unicorns?”
“No. Soft colors and maybe floral patterns for the bedding.”
“Sounds good. Let’s eat, then we’ll get this party started.”
Thirty minutes later, they loaded in the car and headed downtown. Once they got into the mix of traffic, Quinn noticed her surroundings. She pointed to the right. “Dak’s condo is two streets over.”
Raynie swung the car into the turn lane.
“What are you doing?” Quinn’s voice elevated an octave.
“I want to see it. Hey, you may get it in the divorce.”
“No. I signed a pre-nup. I get nothing which is what I deserve.”
Raynie slowed down. “Which building is it?”
“Up ahead on the left. That big white one with all the glass.”
As they approached, Quinn looked toward the front door. She didn’t know why. He parked in the parking garage. But then she caught sight of him and gasped. He helped a woman into a cab. Before the blonde got in, she cupped his face and kissed him.
The emotions Quinn had repressed rose and lodged in her chest. She’d been right. He was having an affair. According to Megan, the woman appeared to be his flavor. Blonde. Young. Quinn tried to get a breath, but there wasn’t enough oxygen in the car. She rolled down the window.
Raynie looked at her. “Oh God. I’m so sorry. What should we do?”
She waved her hand forward. “Get out of here before he sees us.”
Once they were a block away, Raynie pulled to the curb. “I’m sorry. If I’d had any idea we might see him, I wouldn’t have driven by.”
Tears streamed down Quinn’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t be upset. It’s not like we have a real relationship.”
Raynie took her hand. “Cups, swords, and wands. Why didn’t I see it? I knew you liked him—but you’re in love with him. This is bad. This is so bad.”
“Don’t tell Megan, okay? And promise me, you’ll never say anything to Dak. I’ll get over him. I will. I’ve already started. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay with you again tonight.” She sniffed and pulled herself together. “I don’t want this to ruin our day.”
“You’re right.” Raynie pulled back into traffic and sang Happy Birthday at the top of her lungs. Quinn already felt better.
~~*~~
When Dak got to his office, he had messages waiting from Sim. With the unexpected midnight visitor, he’d forgotten to plug in his phone, so he’d missed her texts. Before he called her, he connected his cell to the charger. He hated when he let it die. Like everyone else on the planet, it was his lifeline.
He dialed her number, and she answered on the second ring. “Hey Sim.”
“Where the hell have you been? Siberia? I’ve called you a dozen times in the last hour.”
“You’re scaring me. Has something happened to Quinn? The baby?”
“No. Everything is fine. Wait a minute. Why ask me about Quinn? Didn’t you just leave her at home?”
“Stayed at the condo last night.”
“Why?”
“Worked late. Didn’t feel like driving to the country.”
“Is that the real reason?”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Come on, I know that’s where you always took your women. Are you cheating on Quinn?”
“Good God, Sim. No. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Sorry. According to you, since this marriage of yours is pretend, you might not consider your vows binding.”
“Well, I do. Besides, that would defeat my purpose of presenting myself as a wholesome family man don’t you think? Is there a reason you wanted to talk?”
“Oh yeah. I’m calling to remind you today is Quinn’s birthday, in case you want to get something. Do you?”
“Uh. Sure. I guess. Any ideas?”
“You can’t come up with anything?”
“Hell, I barely know the woman. So no, I don’t have a clue.”
“You know her well enough to know she doesn’t put importance on things. Which makes it easy on you. She’d love a poem as much as a diamond ring.”
“Oh yeah?” Dak stared out his window. “Well, let me think—Oh, I’ve got just the one. The sun is shiny, flags are wavy, you fucked me over and made a baby. How’s that?—Sim? Sim? Are you still there?” Damn her. He re-dialed.
“You’re an ass,” she answered. “Why don’t you go ahead and dissolve the marriage and be done with it. I’m tired of you playing the poor-pitiful-me song.”
“It was a joke. Good God. Can’t I even tease anymore?”
“No. You can’t. I’m serious. You’re miserable and so is she. You need to end it and move on.”
“I can’t. My big interview is coming up this week. Besides, I’m not miserable.”
“You’re an ass and a liar. You’ll be tied to Quinn for the rest of your life. Do you understand that? Regardless of who you marry or how many more kids you have, Quinn Dorsey will always be the mother of your firstborn, and you need to show her a little respect.”
“Hey, I…”
“No! I’m not done. Forget how the baby happened and concentrate on how much you’ll love that little girl—and her mother.”
“I don’t…”
“Oh really? Just now, when you thought there might have been an emergency, the first person you asked about was Quinn. Not Mom. Not Dad. Not the baby. Quinn. Your wife. Explain that.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond. She disconnected. Dak stared at the receiver for a moment, then replaced it. Who’d pissed in her Cheerios? He turned his attention to the bridal photo on his desk. Feelings for her? He didn’t know. How could he when she’d been the most deceitful person he’d ever met? But last night, he could have had Shelly in his bed, and he didn’t. That was easy to explain. He might be a jerk, but he wasn’t an adulterer.
Beginning at four p.m., he watched the clock. Tonight, he’d take Quinn out for her birthday—if she wanted to go. At five, he cleared his desk and headed home. The birthday present he’d bought during his lunch hour was in his briefcase. Taking Sim’s advice, he’d come up with something simple. She was right. Quinn wasn’t high maintenance. The thought behind a gift meant more than the price tag.
When he made the final turn leading to his house, light winked through the branches like diamonds. She’d decorated the place. He came to a stop. Wooden elves stood by trees, artificial reindeer grazed at the edge of the yard, and cutout carolers formed a stationary choir on the porch. Hell, it looked like Santa Town.
He got out of the truck and ambled up the steps. The whiskey barrels on each side of the entry were a nice touch, and the door wreath looked as if it came from vines growing on his property.
The only lights on in the house were those on the large tree in the corner. If Quinn was home, she’d already gone to bed, but it was only six o’clock. He dropped his briefcase to the floor and sprinted to the master suite. Every hair on his arms sprang to attention. What if she was sick or in labor? It was too early for the baby—or what if she’d left him?
He got to the doorway and switched on the light. The bed, still made. He checked the bathroo
m. Nothing. “Quinn! Quinn! Are you here?”
The door across the hall stood ajar. He eased it open. The bed from her apartment, now assembled, sat against the wall, ready for an occupant. He stepped deeper into the room, slumped down on the edge, and ran his hand across his face. She hadn’t moved out, but didn’t intend to sleep with him anymore.
His phone dinged, and he read the text. Staying with Raynie 2nite. Food n freezer. What did he expect? It was her birthday, and she wanted to be with her friends. He didn’t blame her. He’d pushed her too far and the hope of them getting closer disappeared into the darkness.
~~*~~
Quinn pressed send and then eyed Raynie. “Okay, he knows I’m staying with you, as if he cares. At least I’ve made it easy for him to see his girlfriend.”
Raynie shuffled through DVD’s. “What do you want to watch? When Harry Met Sally? My Best Friend’s Wedding. The Proposal?”
“The Proposal. I love Sandra Bullock. That scene with Betty White where they’re dancing in the woods is hysterical.”
“You want to order Chinese?”
“What I’d love is a drink with an umbrella. That’s the downside of pregnancy. No booze.”
Raynie inserted the movie. “On the bright side, since he’s cheating, that will get him out of your hair a few nights a week. Oh, I’m sorry. That sounded terrible. As if I’m glad he’s screwing around, and I’m not. I’m just saying…”
“I know what you mean, and you’re right. If he’s with her, he can’t make me miserable.” Lucy and Ethel climbed onto the sofa and sat next to Quinn. She rubbed each one. “The cats aren’t any trouble, are they? I feel awful pushing them on you, but I had no one else to take them.”
“I love having them here. Once they go home, I’ve decided I’m getting a kitty.”
A message sounded. Quinn’s heart fluttered. It was from Dak. Probably to say he was staying in town again. She read it and tears came to her eyes. Happy Birthday.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Just as Quinn thought, when she returned home, Dak never mentioned the new setup in the extra bedroom. That told her he was fine with it. More than fine. And why not? He had his girlfriend at the condo and even if there wasn’t sex going on with Quinn, it had to be uncomfortable sleeping with two different women. Or maybe this was something he always did. She didn’t know and didn’t care. Or did she? No, she reminded herself Dak was not her Prince Charming although she’d tried to convince herself of it. Truth was, men on white horses only existed in fairy tales.
She stood at her closet door and scanned the clothes. It was Friday, and she faced a double whammy. Media Corp. decided this was a good day to meet Dak’s new wife, and later the company Christmas party started at seven. For the interview she’d wear her favorite sweater and leggings, then change into the plain black dress for the office celebration.
“Are you ready?” Dak yelled from down the hall.
She pulled the sweater over her head, smoothed strands of hair back in place, and stepped from the room. “Yeah, I’m ready. Do I look all right?” Standing stone still, she spread her arms away from her body.
“You’re fine. Let’s go.”
On the way to the office, Dak ran his hands up and down the steering wheel, then glanced at her. “I’m not sure what they’ll ask, but you need to be prepared—why we waited to get married—how long we’ve been together…”
She cut him off. “Stop worrying. I won’t mess this up for you. Is there anything my story needs to match, like the time we dated?”
He licked his lips then ran his hand over his mouth. “No. I was generic with everything I told them. You know how much is riding on this. My whole future—and yours. If I lose my job…”
“Stop it! You won’t lose your job. They’d be idiots to replace you, so relax.”
“No, you don’t understand.” He shook his head, and it was the first time she’d heard fear in his voice. “They have guys in their other offices they can transfer. They may not have the client base I have, but they’ve been with Media Corp. for years, and they are family men. My job is on the line.” Dak wheeled into a parking spot, killed the engine, and took a deep breath. “This is it.”
Quinn reached across the seat and patted his hand. “You’ll be fine. Just follow my lead.”
“I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Maybe it was selfish, but Quinn liked that Dak’s fate might rest in her hands. It was the first time since they’d married she felt equal to him. He’d furnished her with everything, and regardless of his affair, or his hatred for her, she wanted to repay him and this was her chance.
They took the elevator to the third floor and when the doors opened, Helen sat at a desk outside a room with glass walls.
“Well, good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Savage.”
Quinn smiled. “Hi, Helen. Please call me Quinn, Mrs. Savage sounds so formal.” Yeah, and since the name won’t be mine much longer, no need to get used to it.
“We’ll hangout here until it’s time for our meeting,” Dak said. “Any calls?”
“Some. I put the names and numbers on your desk. Would y’all like some coffee?”
“Nothing for me,” Quinn said.
Dak pushed his office door open and spoke over his shoulder. “No, I don’t want any. Maybe later.”
Quinn followed him in, and while he removed his jacket and hung it up, she picked up the photos on his desk. Her wedding shot, and the baby’s sonogram. She sucked in a breath. She’d not expected him to have those. A second later, her eyes drifted to three yellow callback notes. Dalton’s. Sim. Shelly. Quinn’s throat closed off. She wondered if that was his girlfriend. No. She could be anyone. A client. A colleague.
His voice brought her back. “I never asked, but have you been to the office before?”
“Huh, oh, no. In all the time Megan’s worked here, you’d think I would have, but I haven’t.” Quinn walked to the other side of the room and looked down at the street, then at the skyline. “You have a great view.”
“Yeah, but most of the time I take it for granted.” He picked up the notes, crumpled one, and tossed it into the trashcan. The other two he laid aside.
She wished she knew which one he threw away.
The desk phone buzzed and he put it to his ear. “Hello. We’ll be right there.” He replaced it and shot Quinn a look of dread, then walked past her to get his jacket. “Showtime.”
She reminded herself of what she intended to say about her new husband. She smoothed her sweater and faced Dak. “Don’t be nervous. I’ve got this.”
He didn’t speak, just nodded, then opened the door and followed her to the elevator.
When they got to the conference room, which also had glass walls, Quinn looked over at him. He was pale and his face glowed with perspiration. A middle-aged woman walked to the doors and pulled one open. “Please come in, Dak. I assume this is Mrs. Savage. I’m Wanda Hamilton Reed.” She stuck out her hand.
Ah, the owner’s daughter. “Nice to know you, please call me Quinn.”
Wanda ushered them to the end of a long table where an old man, Quinn decided was Mr. Hamilton, waited. He rose and extended his hand first to Quinn, then Dak. Once they sat, the gentleman started. “Thank you for coming in Mrs. Savage. Are you comfortable? Can we get you anything?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” Quinn didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, she took control. “I’m impressed with your company, not only its track record, but the fact you’re grooming your daughter to take over.” She slanted a glance toward Wanda. “Few powerful men do that, especially when they have sons. The continued success of Media Corp. is more important to you than expected protocol. You’re a man of vision, like my husband.”
Mr. Hamilton’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve done your homework, Mrs. Savage.”
She held up her finger, cocked her head, and he corrected himself.
“Quinn. Tell me about his vision.”
She relaxed back in h
er seat. “His record speaks for itself. He’s brought more revenue into Galaxy than any department head before him. He has a shelf of awards to prove it. But you have all that information. What you don’t know, is he’s loyal to a fault. He’s also his biggest competition. In business and his personal life he’s relentless. Take me, for instance.”
Quinn caught a glimpse of Dak out of the corner of her eye. He appeared dazed, and she wasn’t sure he was breathing.
She continued. “We’d not been dating long when I found out I was pregnant. He wanted to marry me immediately because he’s an honorable man, but having come from a broken home, I was reluctant. I wanted—no, needed to be certain his offer wasn’t out of obligation. I needed more than his support. I wanted his heart.”
Wanda scooted to the edge of her seat as if waiting for the final scene in a movie. Her dad leaned forward, rested his hands on the table and laced his fingers together. “How did he convince you?”
Quinn’s lips spread into a wide smile. She reached over and took Dak’s hand, gave him the most loving look she could muster, then focused on the interviewer again. “Pie chart.”
The old man and his daughter burst into laughter. “Are you kidding me?”
Quinn laughed with them. “If I’m lying, I’m dying. I know it doesn’t sound very romantic, but it was. I wish I’d brought it, but we’re having it framed for the baby’s room. Someday, it will be one of her favorite stories.” She beamed at Dak again. “Won’t it, honey?”
“Ah—uh, yeah.”
“Take my word. Dak is a closer. He’ll make your company money, add to its success, gain recognition through more awards, and help put you on the business map even more than you are already.”
“Mrs….Quinn, I don’t believe I’ve ever had a more glowing recommendation from a spouse. You may have a future in this business.” He rose and offered his hand to Dak. “You will remain head of marketing and I can’t wait to work with you.” Then he turned to Quinn. “When you get that pie chart back, I want to see it. With your permission, I’d like to use that story in my motivational meetings.”