by Penny Reid
I nodded. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” Quinn dipped his chin and leveled me with a measured stare. He glanced briefly at the email and handed it back to me. “After you and I talked on Tuesday, when you told me you didn’t want to take the plane back with everyone else, I knew that you felt uncomfortable leaving things undefined at work. I called Betty and tasked her with asking the lawyers to put a proposal together to define our work expectations in such a way that would allow us to continue our relationship outside of work.”
My attention moved back to the email as he explained, and I read it again with this information in mind.
“Obviously they misinterpreted the request. I wanted them to set up something tangible, something legal that you could feel good about, something that would protect you in case our relationship ever…ended.” One of his hands moved to the back of his neck.
“It reads as though they interpreted your request, your main objective, as protecting the company. They want me to resign so that you and I can date without putting the company at risk.”
“I’ll get it straightened out.” He shifted closer, running the back of his knuckles against the skin where my scoop-neck shirt met my chest.
I surveyed the email once more before stepping away from him to place it on the dresser. “I know you will.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. Part of me wondered if it would just be better for everyone if I did quit. Then I could date Quinn without making others uncomfortable about putting his company at risk.
“Hey.” He tilted my chin back until I met his gaze. “What are you thinking about? And don’t tell me it’s robots.”
Despite myself, I gave him a brittle grin. “Maybe I should quit.”
He shook his head. “No. That’s not acceptable.”
“Quinn.”
“That would be bad for my company.”
“But at least…”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m afraid that if you get to know me, you’ll think I’m weird.” The words, words I didn’t even know I was going to say, blurted forth like a disobedient hiccup.
His gaze refocused and met mine directly. “I do know you, and you’re right; you are weird.”
“I’m afraid you’re laughing at me instead of with me.”
He shrugged. “There is nothing I can do about that. You’re funny.”
“I’m afraid that your money and my lack of money will come between us.”
He placed his hands on his hips. “It won’t. I won’t let it.”
“I’m afraid that I feel more for you than you feel for me.”
He shook his head slowly. “That’s not possible.”
“I’m afraid that we’re moving too fast and that this is just infatuation.”
“I don’t know what this is.” He breathed in as though he was going to continue, but then he paused.
Quinn studied me, held my gaze. He seemed to be considering his next words carefully.
I knew what I wanted him to say: I wanted him to tell me that this wasn’t infatuation, that he was certain we were meant to be together into eternity, that I looked pretty and ask me if I did something different with my hair, that I was the most beautiful woman in the world to him. It was what I wanted to hear because I was falling in love with him.
I’m not falling in love; I am in love with him.
Finally, his words deliberate and cautiously crafted, Quinn said, “I think about you all the time.” His gaze narrowed and his jaw ticked as though the confession had cost him. “And I can’t guarantee that this isn’t infatuation because sometimes I think it has to be. But…” His gaze moved upward then to the left and over my shoulder. “I don’t think of you as perfect.”
I frowned at him.
I don’t think of you as perfect.
“Oh…ok.” My eyelashes blinked in rapid succession, and my brain started compiling the list of all my imperfections. “Is it because of my height? My seepage of trivial facts? My granny panties?”
“No, listen.” His attention swiftly moved back to me. “That’s not…” He shook his head and swallowed. “If this was just infatuation, then I would, we would become disillusioned at some point, yes?”
I nodded, and I was sure it was unconvincing.
He continued. “I don’t have misconceptions that you’re flawless. And you don’t have any illusions about me. You’re too practical, and if you did, you wouldn’t have reminded me on Wednesday that I need to be a good guy.”
I nodded again, this time more convincingly albeit more warily.
“I don’t think this,” he motioned between us, “I don’t think this is infatuation.” He shifted closer, and I thought he was going to touch me, but instead, he crossed his arms and his voice became softer and gentler. “I know that life, in general, terrifies you; I know that you are frequently oblivious to the obvious, and I know that you are completely irrational at times.”
I opened my mouth automatically because my brain was telling me to object, but surprisingly, I didn’t actually feel any outrage at being called terrified, oblivious, and irrational. His assessment was, more or less, on target. The fact that he knew these things about me, and he seemed to accept them regardless, made me feel better and worse.
“And all that drives me crazy. You drive me crazy.” His voice deepened, and he leveled me with a narrow glare as he continued. “But, in spite of how totally nuts you are, I wouldn’t change anything about you.”
I pressed my lips together and started biting the inside of my cheek. I bravely met his pointed stare. “You think I’m totally nuts?”
He nodded and sighed. “Yes. And I…” his eyes moved over my forehead, eyebrows, nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
I inhaled deeply, trying to breathe him in, trying to understand this desire to take him within myself and carry him with me always. He lowered his head and my eyes drifted shut.
“Janie…”
I sighed. “Yes?”
“What are you thinking?” His voice was a whisper, his breath against my cheek.
My eyes fluttered open and I licked my lips, wanting his mouth on mine, driven to mad honesty. “I love you.”
I sensed rather than saw his self-satisfied smile. “Good.”
He softly brushed his lips against mine. My immediate confession-induced panic dissolved as his nearness blanketed me in a frightening sanctuary I never knew I wanted, but now recognized was necessary to my continued existence.
I lost myself to him and to myself; to trust and to faith; and in that moment, I was fearless.
Epilogue
Quinn, four months later
When I walked into the luxury plumbing fixture store on West Lake Street, I was immediately struck by the fact that they had rows of toilets hanging on the walls. The floor was plain cement. The walls were ordinary red brick. Covering the floor and walls was an array of sinks, tubs, faucets, and toilets. The space was large, but it felt small due to the large selection of bathroom fixtures.
Automatically I did a sweep of the store, located exits, sized up the other customers, and so forth. Habits come naturally. Once comfortable, I walked to Elizabeth; she was about forty feet away, studying a row of faucets on the wall.
She didn’t look up when I approached but merely tipped her head in my direction as a greeting. “McHotpants.”
“Elizabeth.” I rubbed the back of my neck. I didn’t mind the nickname when Janie used it. But it just didn’t seem right with her friends, particularly Elizabeth. I hoped that today’s meeting would improve our strained interactions. “Thank you for meeting me.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “No problem. Anything for Janie. She said she’d meet us here at six.” She reached out and twisted the knobs on a faucet.
If Janie was going to arrive at six, then that meant I only had a half hour to work through whatever issues Elizabeth obviously had with me dating Janie. I waited for Elizabeth to look up, but instead sh
e frowned at the metal spigot and walked farther into the store.
I scowled at her, trying not to grind my teeth. “Why did you want to meet here?”
“I want a new faucet.”
“What’s wrong with the faucet in the apartment?”
“I don’t like it.”
With a great deal of effort, I managed to keep from rolling my eyes. “Ok.”
She fiddled with another series of levers. “Ok? So you’re ok with me changing the sink?”
I glanced around the store again, counting three more people I’d missed in my first sweep of the space. “Elizabeth, you can remodel the bathroom if you want. I don’t care.”
“And you’ll pay for it?”
“Sure, whatever; whatever you want.”
She looked at me then. Her pale blue eyes narrowed, and she inspected me as if I was a disease.
Since we’d first met some four months ago, I had felt at cross-purposes with Elizabeth. She was irritable every time I was alone in a room with her. Just last week, which was the last time Janie and I had spent the night at their place, Elizabeth made passive-aggressive remarks about my inability to make a good cup of coffee.
I know how to make coffee. I make really good coffee. She just doesn’t like me.
Usually I wouldn’t care, but her best friend happens to be the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. It is necessary to make an effort.
I met her glare with one of my own; finally, she spoke. “So, Mr. Granite Face, what is this about?” She motioned between the two of us. “Why did you want to meet before Janie arrives?”
I crossed my arms over my chest, preparing to negotiate. “We need to figure out some way to get along.”
“You’re right.” She didn’t look surprised by my statement.
“What is it about me that you dislike?”
She lifted her blonde eyebrows. “I don’t dislike you.”
I didn’t want to call her a liar, so I didn’t respond.
After a protracted moment, she continued. “It’s not that I dislike you. I just don’t trust you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t understand your motivations, and I still think you’re hiding something.” She mimicked my stance, crossing her arms over her chest. She was small and looked silly when she tried to appear tough.
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Oh, really?” Elizabeth started rubbing her chin with her thumb and forefinger. “What did you do with Jem? What happened to all of those thugs from Boston? Why didn’t they press charges?”
“Janie and I discussed all of this. She knows that I took care of it.”
Elizabeth didn’t hide her anger very well. “Well, Janie won’t tell me.”
“That’s probably for your own good.”
“I want to know what happened. I don’t want to be patted on the head and sent on my way! What if they come back? What about Janie?”
“Janie is stronger than you think, and I’ll protect her.”
“I need to know so I can take care of her; you can’t protect her forever!” Elizabeth waved her arms around wildly. She was starting to draw attention to herself. I didn’t particularly care, but it was annoying.
And because I was annoyed, I responded without thinking. “Yes, I can. When we get married, she’ll be—”
“You’re getting married?” Elizabeth’s shouted exclamation echoed against the porcelain tubs and drew all remaining eyes to our position.
I glanced around the store, offered nothing but an unfriendly glare in apology for her outburst, then took Elizabeth by the arm and escorted her to the back of the store. When I was satisfied that no one was listening or watching, I responded in a low voice. “I haven’t asked her yet.”
Elizabeth blinked at me; her mouth opened and closed. I gave up and rolled my eyes.
When she finally spoke, her voice was a tight whisper. “I can’t believe you’re going to ask her to marry you!” To my surprise, she sounded excited and happy.
I blinked at her; my mouth opened and closed.
“Oh, my God, you have to let me help! I want to help! This is so exciting!” She hopped back and forth on her feet, clapping her hands.
I responded through gritted teeth. “No. I don’t need your help. I can do it on my own.”
She stopped hopping and abruptly frowned. Her voice was still a whisper although somewhat louder. “See, this is why I don’t like you!”
“I thought you did like me.”
“No, I do like you, I like you for Janie, but I don’t like that you hide things! Why do you do that?”
I studied her. Elizabeth’s hands were planted on her hips, and at least she didn’t appear angry. She looked hurt. What I knew about Elizabeth I’d learned from Janie; it was obvious that Elizabeth had been taking care of Janie in one way or another since college. It occurred to me that I might need to modify my approach.
I licked my lips and glanced toward the door; what I was about to admit would be easier if I didn’t have to look at her. “I’m not used to sharing—not information, not resources, and definitely not people.”
I heard her sigh before she spoke. “Well, me either. But I love Janie, and what is important is her happiness. I want her to be happy.”
“You know I love her.” I growled; the preachy tenor of her words and tone irritated me, and my response and resulting glare were perfunctory.
“I know…I know you love her.” She held her hands up, her eyes wide and pacifying, and her tone softened. “But we have to find a way to get along; you said it yourself,” she added on a sigh. “We have to learn to share.”
I released a slow breath and reluctantly admitted to myself that Elizabeth was right; we had to share Janie. This was the issue. I didn’t know how to share her. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to. Part of me wanted to stay in bed with her every second of every day and explore her perfect body. There was a ferocity behind the sentiment that still surprised me, caught me off guard. But I loved Janie, and that meant I needed to do things just because they were good for her and made her happy.
“Also, you might find that I’m pretty handy to have around.” Elizabeth’s mouth curved into a beseeching smile. “I’m a valuable ally. For example, I am exceptionally good with wound care.”
I allowed a small smile, but I knew it didn’t quite reach my eyes. I comprehended that befriending Elizabeth was a much better strategy than merely tolerating her.
I rubbed my hand over my face; before I changed my mind, I quickly consented to her interference. “Ok, fine.”
“Ok? Fine?”
I refocused my attention on the short blonde and found her watching me, her hands clasped together hopefully.
“Ok, fine; you can help me.”
A high-pitched squealing sound met my ears and I winced; then, she hugged me. I patted her on the back, hoping to pacify this bit of overzealous effervescence.
“You won’t regret it! Oh, my God, I’m so excited! Have you picked out a ring?”
I was already regretting it but decided to keep that to myself.
“No. I haven’t done anything yet.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glanced at my watch then at the front door. Janie would be arriving at any minute, and I didn’t want to be talking about engagement rings with Elizabeth when she showed up.
“That’s ok, I know what she likes. I can help with that, but don’t get her a diamond unless it’s synthetic because…”
“I know, I know, the atrocities of the African diamond trade. I was, uh, actually thinking about getting her something antique.”
Elizabeth glanced up thoughtfully then nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good idea; did you know she really loves rubies?”
The question promptly caught my attention. This was actual valuable information. “No, I didn’t know that.”
Maybe Elizabeth could be helpful after all.
“It’s something about the fact that any other color makes the gem a sapphire
, but if it’s red, it’s considered a ruby.”
I felt my lips curve into a smile. A ruby would be perfect for Janie.
Our attention was drawn to the front of the shop by the jingling of a bell announcing the entry of a new customer. I knew it was Janie before I saw her. It was the most ridiculous thing, but my heart constricted then expanded whenever she entered a room. I’d come to expect the uncontrolled response, but I hadn’t yet grown accustomed to it.
My feet were carrying me to her before my mind grasped their intention; I was too busy noticing that she was wearing a skirt, which likely meant she was wearing thigh highs with lace at the tops. She knew that drove me crazy. I was already plotting to get her alone so that I could confirm my suspicion. Also, she was wearing her hair in a bun, and I immediately started formulating plans to hide all her hair ties as soon as possible.
I caught her eye as I approached, and again, my heart lurched when she smiled. Warmth radiated from my chest outward, and I automatically returned her smile because I had to. I simply did not have a choice.
“Hey.” We reached for each other, and her soft palm rested on my cheek briefly as she gave me a small kiss.
It wasn’t enough. It never seemed to be enough.
I fought the urge to deepen the shallow contact and stuffed my hands in my pockets. I’d never been one for public displays of affection. Now, however, I had difficulty keeping my hands off Janie’s body regardless of where we were. I also had difficulty concentrating on anything or anyone but her.
“Hi,” she responded, her focus split between our surroundings and me. Our surroundings finally won the battle for her attention. “I love this place.” She breathed the words as if she was in awe.
I watched her spin a slow circle. Her eyes brightened as they took in the dually sparse and cluttered atmosphere.
“Why do you love it?” I had a sense that I would enjoy her answer. I knew it would be unexpected and unique. Everything about her was unexpected and unique. She was my bright light of eccentricity in a very predictable and ordinary world. She made everything new and interesting or funny.