His (24 page)

Quinn

A bearded man in the food line at the shelter is looking at me with his brows drawn together.

“Hey, girl . . . you okay?” he asks.

“Hmm?” I shake myself out of the daze I was in and scoop some vegetables onto his plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was off in my own world.”

He shakes his head, probably thinking I’m a ditz. This week, I kind of have been. I think about Andrew all the time, usually with a big, dumb smile on my face. Adding sex to our relationship has brought us closer in a way I never knew possible.

When he eases away from me every morning to get up and work out, I want to pull him back into bed. One morning, he did get back in bed with me after his shower, his body warm and his muscles firm. I wove my fingers into his wet hair as we had slow, incredibly good sex.

“You need more?” another volunteer, Jasmine, asks me. I look down at my big stainless pan and see I’m almost out of vegetables.

“Yes.”

She calls out to another volunteer and asks me to serve the rolls and butter while she runs to the bathroom. I take over, keeping an eye out for anyone who comes in without a coat, hat, or decent shoes. Andrew’s always encouraging me to go shopping, and I’ve found I actually do enjoy it when I’m shopping for others.

We finish and I take a mother’s energetic toddler off her hands for an hour so she can fill out job applications. I take the boy to the shelter’s playroom, where we chase each other and build block towers.

When my shift at the shelter is over, Roy picks Micah and me up and drives me to the library. I volunteer at the shelter every weekday so I never have time to walk to the library, but some weekend I’m going to walk there again, just so I don’t let the attack keep hold of me. I’ll have to slip past my security guard shadow, Micah, but I can handle that.

Anna gives me a letter from Bethy, and I rush to the library bathroom to read it while Roy waits in the car. Micah is probably watching me right now, but he can’t come into the bathroom.

I open it inside a stall, missing my sister as soon as I see her neat, cursive handwriting.

Dear Quinn,

I got the Christmas presents and put them under the tinsel tree Maria helped me make. It’s a tiny, sad-looking tree, but I like it. Thank you for whatever is inside the boxes.

It makes me so happy that you’re doing well. I daydream about you and Andrew. He looks like Prince Charming in my dreams. Okay, there’s also some Channing Tatum in there.

I’m doing great with Spanish. I can order all our food at the market and pay for it now. Maria helps me with the other subjects, too, but it seems like we stay pretty busy taking care of her two-year-old and doing the cooking, cleaning, and laundry for me and Bean. I like having stuff to do, though. Her little girl is sweet, and I love playing with her.

Bean seems different lately. He’s kind of mad sometimes, but he tries not to show it. He’s just quiet a lot. He goes to a bar and drinks after work most nights. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you because I don’t want you to worry about me. I promise I’m fine.

I miss you so much. If you and Prince Charming decide to take a vacation, please come to Mexico so I can see you. I’m counting the days until this six months is over.

Love,

Bethy

Tears burn my eyes as I read the letter a second time. Damn it. I’m wondering once again if I’ve done right by my sister. We’re not on the edge of survival anymore. Andrew told me I can have more money if I need it. So if she needs me and money isn’t an issue, why am I still here?

For Andrew. I’m in New York falling in love with a man while Bethy is lonely in a strange country with Bean, who’s started drinking. I feel like an asshole.

I put the letter in my purse and return to the car. Roy takes me to the salon I have an appointment at to get my hair and makeup done for the fundraiser Andrew and I are attending tonight.

I’m thinking about Bethy as my hair is smoothed and swept into a glamorous, pinned-up style. As my dark, smoky eye makeup is applied, I’m picturing her cooking and cleaning for a man who comes home drunk. It’s all I can do not to cry.

When I get back to the warehouse and step into the fitted cream gown I’m wearing tonight, I look at my reflection in the mirror and realize Bethy’s analogy was right on. I’m living like Cinderella at the ball right now. But I could and should be with her.

The hair and makeup took a long time, and I’m running late. I see Andrew glancing at his wristwatch when I walk out of the bedroom.

“Sorry,” I say as I cross the living room “We can get going now.”

His expression changes as he looks me over. The warmth and happiness I see there make me feel amazing and guilty at the same time.

“You look incredible,” he says.

“Thank you.”

He looks pretty good himself in his tux, which fits perfectly across his broad chest and shoulders. His hair is starting to curl slightly at the ends, which makes him look younger than twenty-eight.

Once he’s helped me into my coat, he puts his on and we take the elevator to the garage, where Roy is waiting. Andrew holds my hand as we ride in silence.

“You have a good day?” he asks after a few minutes.

“Yes, you?”

“Not bad.”

I feel him looking at my face in the dim light of the car. “Everything okay?”

I nod, because it feels like less of a lie than words would. Andrew doesn’t prod, and I’m lost in my own thoughts the rest of the ride to the posh hotel. When we arrive, Andrew exits the car at the curb, and I slide out after him. He takes my hand again.

Turning my face to his shoulder, I whisper, “Everything’s not okay.”

“I can tell.” He tips my chin up with his thumb. “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

“Bethy.”

He furrows his brow and kisses my forehead. We start the walk inside, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist, when I look over at the flashing cameras. My stomach churns nervously.

“Shit. Andrew,” I say softly.

“Oh, hell.” He turns me closer to him so my face is shielded and rushes me inside.

“Fuck,” I say angrily when we’re past the line of photographers. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No,
I
wasn’t thinking.” He takes out his phone and starts typing. “I’ll take care of this. Steve and his guys will come here and take care of this, okay?”

“How? Did you see all those cameras?”

“I’ll buy them.”

I feel a ray of hope. “You can do that?”

“I’ll put Steve on it, okay? Don’t worry. Let’s find someplace private so we can talk.”

“Not here. I’m too worried about people standing around corners.”

“Okay,” he says, glancing at the hotel’s long, dark reception desk. “So we’ll get a room.”

“A room? Now?” I look from side to side to make sure no one’s within earshot. “People will think we’re going up there to screw.”

Andrew arches his brows. “Not a man in this place will blame me when they see you.”

I laugh, easing some of my built-up tension. “Flattery really will get you nowhere right now.”

“I get it. The room’s just to talk.” He releases my hand. “Be right back.”

How much do I want to tell him? While I watch him stride up to the front desk and see the woman working there blush at him like a schoolgirl, I realize Andrew doesn’t know where Bethy is or why I’m hiding her. He doesn’t know much about Bean, either. I trust Andrew with my life. But can I trust him with Bethy’s? If she’s not safe, there’s no happiness anywhere for me, with anyone. Not even Andrew.

“Miss Jones,” a sharp female voice says beside me.

I look over and see Gina, Andrew’s mother.
Fuck.
I am so not in the mood. She’s dressed to the nines in a navy gown, her silver hair framing her elegant face.

“It’s Quinn.”

“I see you still have my son’s eye.”

“Apparently so.”

“And what is he doing at the hotel desk? Is he getting a room?”

I just sigh, hoping she’ll catch on to my annoyance and leave.

“Oh, that’s
rich
,” she says sarcastically. “I knew this thing between you had to be all about sex, but—”

“Fuck off,” I say, meeting her icy blue gaze.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no excuse. You’re a rude bitch.”

Her face contorts into an expression of disbelief. “Wow. You must really think you’ve got a hold on him, to speak that way to his
mother
.”

“Treat me like shit, and I’ll treat you like shit right back.”

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, hmm?”

“Nastiness comes in many forms, Mrs. Wentworth.”

I look over at Andrew. He’s leaving the front desk and looking right at us.

“Listen here, you gold-digging whore,” Gina says through clenched teeth. “My son is all I have. You may be able to manipulate him, but I see right through you.”

“Mother,” Andrew says sharply, “what’s going on here?”

“Just chatting with Quinn,” she says with a smile.

“Uh, no. I’m not covering for you.” I reach for Andrew’s hand, squeezing it for strength. “She was just calling me a gold-digging whore.”

“That’s
bullshit
,” Andrew says to her in a low tone. “You don’t even know her.”

Gina raises her chin. “This isn’t the time or place for this conversation.”

“There won’t be any more conversations between you and me until you’ve apologized to Quinn and you treat her appropriately.”

Andrew turns and leads me away before Gina can get another word out.

“I’m sorry,” he says to me as we cross the hotel’s marble-floored lobby.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I won’t allow her to overstep again.”

I squeeze his hand. “Did you get a room?”

“I did.”

I sigh softly as we stop at the elevator, and Andrew pushes the button. The doors slide open, we step on, and as soon as they close, I turn to him.

“I wasn’t very nice to her, either. I told her to fuck off.”

His lips curve up in an amused smile. “Did you now? I don’t see that happening unless she asked for it.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“I know she can be . . . intense. She ran into me when I was out at dinner with a woman in college, and that’s the only other time she’s seen me with someone. Since I introduced you to her, she thinks we’re serious.”

“Seriously crazy, maybe,” I say softly.

The elevator doors open onto the fourteenth floor, and Andrew leads the way down the hall to our room.

It’s a small room with a king-size bed. We walk in, and I give Andrew a dirty look.

“What is this? It’s not even a suite. Are we peasants?”

He’s taken aback for a second before I let out a nervous laugh.

“Sorry,” I say. “Just a bad joke. You did not have to pay for this room just so we could talk.”

He shrugs. “I only got it for an hour. I told the hotel staffer you want a nice ass-fucking before the fundraiser starts, and an hour’s good for that.”

My mouth drops open in shock. “You . . .
what
?”

“That was my bad joke, so now we’re even.” He winks and sits down on the bed. “Now come here and tell me what’s on your mind.”

I sit down, my shoulders slumping forward. “I got a letter from Bethy. I don’t like some of the things she told me.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

I hesitate for a second. I trust Andrew. He’s proven to me many times that he’s on my side. And I really, truly
want
to talk to him about this.

“She’s with Bean,” I say softly. “In . . . Mexico. They have a place, and he has a job. She’s getting tutored by someone there. But she said Bean’s been going to a bar after work to drink. And she’s cooking and cleaning and helping take care of the tutor’s kid . . . while I’m
here
.”

I gesture at the extravagant gown I’m wearing.

“You feel guilty,” he says.

I nod. “Very. I took her away so I could take care of her, and I’m not. I’ve left her pretty much alone in a foreign country.”

“So why don’t we bring her here?”

“Back to New York?”

“Yeah. The warehouse is plenty big. She can live with us and get back in school.”

I consider it for a few seconds. “I’d love that, but I’m still afraid of her being recognized. I can’t let that happen.”

“I can help with identification for her, too.”

With a deep sigh, I decide it’s time to tell him what I really want. “I want to go there. I want to see where she’s at and figure out what’s happening with Bean. I want to spend some time alone with her.”

Andrew’s expression is grim. “I understand . . . yeah. I’ll help however I can.”

“I don’t know what will happen when I get there. If things are okay, I can come back here.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t look or sound like he believes that will happen.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” I say, putting my palm on his thigh. “I do. But I have a responsibility to my sister. I’m the one who took her away, and I need to take care of her.”

He nods. “It’s okay, Quinn. I understand.”

“I wish I could have both of you,” I say, my throat tightening with emotion.

“Whomever you’re up against, I can handle them. You haven’t seen my darker side, but I’ve got one. I’m not afraid to fight for someone . . . for you.”