by Aurora Rey
“Absolutely.” Even if her version of moderation and Arti’s were vastly different.
She thought Arti might take the cupcake back to her office for later, but she dug right in. “Oh, my God.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad this is your project and not mine. I’d probably gain twenty pounds over the course of the build.”
Quinn chuckled. “I’m kind of worried for myself.”
“Sugar coma aside, how was it?”
She gave Arti the overview of her meeting with Amanda and the scope of the project. “It’s not earth-shattering, but I think we can make it something special.”
Arti licked frosting from her fingers. “These cupcakes deserve something special.”
The cupcakes had nothing on the woman who made them. “Exactly.”
“Do you need help? I could spare Frida.”
“I think I’m good.” She didn’t add it was because she didn’t want the intern lurking around every time she met with Amanda.
“Well, you know where to find her if you change your mind.”
Quinn experienced a pang of guilt. “I mean, I can bring her in if she doesn’t have anything else.”
Arti stuffed the last bite of cupcake into her mouth and waved a hand. “No, no. I’d love to have her on the Tompkins Trust job, but I don’t want to monopolize her time if you could use the help.”
She was probably more relieved than the situation warranted. It was her tendency to say yes to things even when she wanted to say no. She really needed to get that under control. Next time. “We’re good.”
“Fantastic. I’ll catch you later.”
Arti left and Quinn forced herself to focus. She made good progress, even if Amanda hovered at the periphery of her thoughts most of the time. She called it a day just after five, locking up the office and heading to her little apartment on the west side of town.
Quinn let herself in and sighed. It was a perfectly nice apartment and more than suited her needs. Still, she couldn’t help but feel uninspired every time she walked in the door. Maybe it was time to start looking for a house in earnest.
She set down her things and wandered to the kitchen. As tempted as she might be to have cupcakes for dinner, she should have something other than sugar first. She opened the fridge, only to be greeted with a tub of hummus, a few beers, and the makings of a rather feeble salad. Talk about uninspiring.
Would it be wrong to have takeout again? Thai maybe, which she wouldn’t cook for herself even if she were attempting to cook for herself. And more nutritional value than cupcakes.
Satisfied with the rationale, she grabbed her phone. If you haven’t ordered takeout yet, come over for dinner.
She chuckled at the accuracy of the invitation. Her sister knew her too well. What are we having?
Shrimp tacos.
Hard to turn that down. I’ll be there in 20.
Fab. Bring wine.
She grabbed her keys and headed back to her car. Too bad she hadn’t thought to get enough cupcakes to bring over. Next time. She’d be spending quite a lot of time at the bakery, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
She pulled into Kiera’s driveway a few minutes later. Before she could grab the Sauvignon Blanc from the passenger seat, the door opened and Grace came running down the walk. She got out of her car just in time for Grace to launch herself into her arms. Quinn embraced her, her day suddenly ten times better. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Beauty is a social construct.”
She didn’t disagree, but hearing the assertion from a six-year-old had her biting back a smile. “You’re right. How are you, Grace?”
“I’m good. I couldn’t tie my shoelaces, but now I can because I persisted.”
“Persistence is a very good trait to have.” She carried her niece up the walk and into the house. “You can accomplish all sorts of things with persistence.”
Kiera emerged from the kitchen. “Are we talking about shoelaces again?”
Quinn laughed. “How did you guess?”
Before they could catch up in earnest, Kiera’s wife, Xinxin, arrived home from work. Grace abandoned her to relay the big news of her day and Quinn turned her attention to her sister. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Nope. I was waiting to throw these on the grill.”
Xinxin dropped her bag and shed her jacket. “Please tell me we’re having tacos.”
Kiera picked up a platter of shrimp lined up on skewers and sent her wife an air kiss. “Be right back.”
She headed out to the grill and Quinn pulled out the corkscrew to open the wine. In a matter of minutes, the four of them sat around the table on the back deck. Quinn polished off her first taco and licked a drop of sour cream from her thumb. “Thank you for saving me from takeout.”
Kiera shook her head. “You realize you could make these yourself, right? It’s literally five ingredients.”
Quinn grinned. “Maybe I’ll attempt them one day, but today wasn’t going to be that day. And since I didn’t have takeout tonight, I can have it tomorrow and not feel bad.”
Kiera rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“It’s a lifestyle choice,” Xinxin said.
Quinn could always count on her to be magnanimous. “Exactly. Besides, I prefer hopeless.”
“Speaking of hopeless, I have someone for you to meet.”
Quinn groaned and Xinxin laughed. Quinn glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
That only made her laugh more, which got Grace giggling, even though she had no idea what they were laughing about.
“Her name is Lisa and I met her at yoga.”
“Regular yoga or goat yoga?” It didn’t really matter, but it sort of did.
Kiera scowled. “Goat. Is that a problem?”
The real problem was her sister’s obsessive need to set her up. Hell, everyone’s apparent need to set her up. Not only did it usually go badly, the whole concept was beginning to make her feel incompetent and borderline pathetic. “Deal breaker.”
“She’s a director of HR, not some hippie.”
“I don’t have anything against hippies. Or HR directors.”
“So you’ll meet her?”
The thing was, saying yes would let her off the hook for at least a month. And it wasn’t like she was opposed to meeting up with a woman for coffee. And if she was a director of anything, chances were good she was at least forty. Which, in her book, was a bonus. “Maybe.”
“She moved to Ithaca a few months ago. She could probably use new friends as much as dates.”
Quinn wasn’t clamoring for new friends, but she could appreciate trying to navigate a new place. “Are you sure she’s a lesbian?”
Kiera huffed out a breath. “That only happened one time.”
“But I’m still scarred,” Quinn said. Kiera swore up and down she had no idea how the wires got so crossed, but the woman in question had not been any degree of queer. Nor had she been gracious about it.
Xinxin, who refrained from getting involved for the most part, angled her head. “Do you want to be dating?”
Such a loaded question. One the people trying to fix her up rarely bothered to ask. She didn’t not want to date, which was maybe a hair shy of actually wanting to date. The bigger issue was she didn’t seem to click with any of the women she went out with. Whether it was her, or bad luck, or maybe not being ready to wade into those waters, she wasn’t sure. “I don’t know.”
Kiera visibly deflated. “I’m sorry.”
Her own discomfort evaporated and the desire to smooth feathers kicked in. “Don’t apologize. I know your heart is in the right place.”
“It is.” Kiera cringed. “I may have already told Lisa I’d set something up.”
Quinn scrubbed a hand over her face. “Okay. I’ll go out with her. But maybe you could lay off for a while.”
She perked up. “Deal.”
Xinxin shook her head, but looked at Kiera with affection, then at Quinn. �
�And I’ll do my best to hold her to it.”
“Thanks.”
“Can we talk about me now?” Grace asked with her mouth full.
Quinn turned her attention to her niece. “I think that sounds like a fantastic idea.”
Chapter Three
As much as Amanda hated leaving work early, she wanted plenty of time to shower and put herself together before making the drive to Rochester. Not that she didn’t always want to be put together, but Mel and Bella run-ins required full armor.
Tonight would be just that. Her daughter’s final recital of the semester meant she’d be seeing her ex and her ex’s wife. Close to ten years of practice made it easier to be in the same space, but it didn’t mean she was ever comfortable with it. Or that she managed to tune out entirely the fact that Bella was twenty years younger, a professional powerhouse, and could have been mistaken for a supermodel. Ugh. She was so not in the mood.
Instead of moping, Amanda did what she did best: she pulled herself together and got on with it. Forty-five minutes later, she was dressed, hair done, and putting on lipstick. Not model material but more than presentable. And as the mother of a college freshman, it was exactly the look she was going for.
She headed downstairs, pleased to see Cal dressed and with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Ready?”
He nodded. “We’re going to eat first, right? I’m starving.”
“Yes. Our reservations are for five so your sister can come too and we’ll have plenty of time to get her to the concert.”
“I guess I can wait that long.”
“Didn’t you eat something after school?”
He groaned. “I did, but that was like an hour ago.”
What he referred to as a snack, she jokingly called second lunch. Oh, to have the metabolism of a teenage boy. “Horror. Why don’t you grab a granola bar to tide you over?”
“I had one after my burrito.”
Of course he did. “Then I’m thinking you’ll survive.”
“Fine. But I’m having an appetizer. And dessert.”
He said it like she ever denied him either of those things. Well, dessert, sometimes. But even that was rare. “Deal.”
They got in the car and headed north. The drive took less than two hours, but she’d reserved a hotel for the night so they could move Daniella out of her dorm the following day. Not having to make two trips, or drive home at ten at night, made the splurge more than worth it. She was pretty sure Mel had made the same plan, which meant they’d be able to pack up everything at once. Aside from having to see Bella twice in two days, it was perfect.
“Can I stay over with Daniella tonight?”
Amanda raised a brow. “You’re going to give up a private bathroom and a bed to yourself to sleep on the floor of your sister’s dorm room?”
Cal lifted a shoulder and looked away. “Yeah.”
“Where’s the party?”
He rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Mom.”
“I’m not saying you can’t go, I just want to know the specifics.”
He sighed again. “It’s Daniella’s roommate’s boyfriend. Wait. Girlfriend? What do you call a non-binary person you’re sleeping with?”
“Um, partner?”
Cal wrinkled his nose. “That sounds super old.”
Amanda pulled through the toll booth and got on the thruway. “Maybe not the thing to say when you’re asking me for something.”
“I didn’t mean you’re old. I meant it sounds like what adults do. Are. You know.”
She did. Giving him a hard time felt like both a right and a responsibility, though. It kept him in line, but it also gave them rapport, the kind of rapport that would hopefully become the cornerstone of their relationship as he became an adult. “I do. So, where do they live?”
“On campus in one of the apartments. It’s going to be super chill.”
She wasn’t sure she’d go that far, but she preferred it to off-campus or, worse, a frat house. “And how will you get back to Daniella’s dorm after?”
“We can walk. It’s all on campus and there are those blue lights everywhere.”
She knew the answer, but wanted to make sure he did, too. “All right.”
“All right I can go?”
He’d be in college on his own soon enough. He might as well get a taste of it under the wing of his serious older sister. “You may. But we’re still leaving at nine and all her things need to be packed up. I have a wedding cake to finish and deliver tomorrow night.”
Cal leaned across the seat and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best.”
It was her turn to sigh. She didn’t want to turn back the clock, but moments like this gave her a tiny pang of they grow up so fast. “I know.”
He pushed the button to turn on the radio. “In honor of your awesomeness, you get to pick the music. What’ll it be?”
She smiled. Control of the radio in the car was a big deal. She’d lost track of the number of fights through the years. It said something that he offered after she’d already said yes. “Yacht rock all the way.”
He groaned but laughed, then sang along with her to Hall & Oates and Michael McDonald. And in that moment, all felt right with the world.
After picking up Daniella, they headed to the restaurant where she’d made reservations. They hadn’t been seated two minutes when her phone pinged. Mel.
Any chance you’re doing dinner before the concert?
Amanda frowned at the screen. Just sat down. Why?
Flying solo and would love to join you.
She closed her eyes. Not exactly how she wanted to spend her evening, but not having to see Bella at all would be a perk. And while family dinners had become increasingly rare as the kids grew up, both Daniella and Cal loved it when they all sat down together. Roux. We’ll add a chair and order appetizers.
* * *
Amanda basked in parental pride while her kids talked nonstop. The recital had been perfect, with Daniella looking poised and confident as part of the ensemble performance and during her brief solo. Sure, it wasn’t at the caliber of what the music majors put on, but the fact that her daughter could do it while also studying molecular biology? Well, it was more than any mother could ask for.
She dropped Daniella and Cal off with promises to stay safe and be ready to go in the morning, then headed to her hotel. Maybe she’d order a glass of wine and take it to her room. Now that she wasn’t bunking with Cal, she could take a bath and lounge around in one of those cushy robes. It shouldn’t, but it made her feel better to know Mel would be spending the night alone, too.
Mel. She’d been so weird at dinner. The concert, too. Charming and deferential. Hell, she’d been attentive. Amanda couldn’t remember the last time Mel had been attentive to her. Long before the divorce, that’s for sure. She couldn’t decide whether to enjoy it or be suspicious of it.
When she pulled into the garage at the hotel, Mel was waiting, ostensibly for her. Next level weird. Not to mention the sort of gesture that made Amanda fall for her in the first place all those years ago. At this point, she had to wonder if Mel was having a rare moment of sentimentality or wanted something. Probably the latter. Sentimentality didn’t seem to be in her DNA. Angling? Absolutely.
“Everyone make out okay?”
Amanda shrugged. “I think so. Daniella won’t get into trouble and she’ll keep an eye on Cal.”
Mel frowned. “You think Cal would get into trouble on his own?”
She didn’t. Not really. But new situations and wanting to be cool could inspire all sorts of shenanigans. “I’m glad they’ll be together.”
“This is why you were always better at the parenting thing than me. You know when to tie them down and when to let them free range.”
Classic Mel—shirking responsibility because Amanda was better at it. It was exactly the kind of statement that would have driven her up a tree during their marriage and the first few years of their divorce. Now t
hat she didn’t have to depend on Mel for anything, it didn’t bother her as much. “Still working the helpless angle, I see.”
Mel slapped a hand to her chest. “You wound me.”
Amanda raised a brow. “I think you’ll live.”
Mel grinned. “You always did know how to keep me in my place.”
She chuckled, more amused by the banter than she would have expected. “Someone has to.”
“Would you like to grab a drink? It’s early still.” Mel looked at her with hopeful eyes. Like an eager puppy—cliché but irresistible.
“You and me? At a bar?” Just saying it aloud felt like a bad idea.
“Come on. We’re friends at this point, aren’t we?”
Friends. She wasn’t sure she’d go that far, but it was one of those umbrella words that offered shade to all manner of connections. “All right.”
Mel held the door as they entered the hotel. In the ten or so steps it took to get to the bar, she rested her hand in the small of Amanda’s back. Strange. Or, maybe, strange of her to notice.
The bar was dim, elegant rather than seedy. Small candles flickered on dark wood tables. Couples got cozy on leather love seats and in high-backed booths. Amanda cleared her throat. That had bad idea written all over it. “Why don’t we sit at the bar?”
Mel chuckled but didn’t argue. “Old-fashioned?”
Amanda smiled in spite of herself. Mel forgot their anniversary at least half the years they were married, but she always remembered the little things. Like Amanda’s favorite drink. “Yes, please.”
They took a pair of stools at the end of the bar. Not quite as intimate as one of the tables but not far off. Mel snagged the attention of the bartender and ordered. She still took her bourbon neat.
When their drinks came, Mel raised her glass. “Here’s to making a couple of fantastic kids.”
It would be impossible not to toast that. She tapped her glass to Mel’s. “Cheers.”
Mel sipped her drink. “How are you?”
“You know, I’m good.” She realized how nice it was to mean it and not just say it. “What about you?”