Perfect Pairing (32 page)

“No, of course not, but—”

“Have I ever walked on you?”

“No, but—”

“Have I ever left you for a better offer? And don't act like you don't know I've had other offers.”

“I know you have. I know you could run your own truck, but—”

“But what, Hal? We've had a relationship for sixteen years. We were there for each other when we had nothing but trouble, and we were together all the way to the top. For better or for worse. It can be done, and more importantly, it can be done by people like us.”

Emotions clogged her throat, but she wasn't able to give in yet. A lifetime of fighting didn't end in an instant. “You're different.”

“Do you really believe we're the only two people on the planet who can form a lasting relationship?”

Hal didn't like being painted into a corner. God, why did the truck feel so damned small these days? “Sully, I know there are people out
there it works for, but it's rare, don't you think? Don't, like, half of all marriages end in divorce?”

“That means half of them don't.”

Why did she have to have answer for everything? “I just don't think I'm the kind of person who can give Quinn the life she's after.”

“I know you don't, and I understand why. When it comes to relationships, we grew up with a skewed sample.”

Hal braced her hands on the table and hung her head. “We really did.”

“But look at us. We're doing pretty well.” Sully grabbed an apple and rolled it back and forth between her hands. “You know, half of all foster kids don't graduate from high school.”

“Yeah.”

“And half of all foster kids end up in jail or homeless at least once.”

“Yeah.”

“What percent do you think are successful, small-business owners?”

“I don't know.” Hal's chest ached. “The odds are pretty shitty.”

“The odds
are
shitty, but guess what?”

“What?”

Sully gave the apple a little push, and it rolled across the table until Hal caught it. “You beat them. You beat all of them. You made something good. And you've built relationships around who you are and what you love.”

“I guess so.”

“You guess so? Hal, come on. You and I both know where we came from. How can you look at how far you've risen and still have no faith in your ability to go further?”

Hal spun the apple back until it hit the wheel of brie, and suddenly she had what she needed. The idea didn't filter into her mind so much as it stuck in her gut, warming, strengthening, filling as it spread. She finally lifted her eyes to meet Sully.

They stared at each other.

“Whatcha thinkin'?”

“I might need to cut our planning session short,” Hal said.

“Go on. Go after her.”

“Not yet. There's something I need to do first. And I'd like your help.”

“Say the word.”

She smiled. “Fire that grill back up.”

Sully straightened quickly, like a soldier coming to attention. “Yes, Chef.”

Chapter Twenty

Quinn paused in the doorway of her office. It seemed strange to leave the bank empty-handed, and at four o'clock on the dot no less. She glanced at her briefcase on her desk, and while her fingers twitched to reach for it, she resisted the urge. She wasn't just leaving work early. She was leaving her work at work. She closed her office door behind her and gave the key a quick turn. It felt good, like closure on the day. Maybe Hal had been right and she'd never be able to control other people, but she intended to get control of her own life, and she intended to start tonight.

As soon as she turned around, though, she nearly bumped into one of the young tellers, Mary—or Macie maybe; she couldn't remember—but, polite or impolite, she didn't want to chat or, God forbid, have to put out another fire.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Ms. Banning.” The girl looked so terrified the cuffs of her just-off-the-rack suit coat trembled from the vibration of her shaking hands. She'd probably heard a few stories about Quinn in her first couple days at the bank.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, I don't know. A woman in the lobby says she has an important meeting with you, but there's nothing on the calendar.”

“Did she say what the meeting was about?”

“About the restaurant project.”

“We canned the restaurant project.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'll tell her.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said, then cocked her head to the side trying to think once again if she'd forgotten something. Canceled project or
not, she shouldn't have had an outstanding meeting, or even contacts, which was a big part of the reason the plans got scrapped. She hadn't found anyone worth even interviewing. And all the funding had come from in-house, so there'd been no need to solicit investors. She'd always been the primary backer and had intended to put up the capital personally. Of course none of that mattered anymore.

Still, curiosity prevented her from turning toward the employee exit. She'd resolved to leave work on time today, and she intended to keep her promises, even the ones she made to herself, but the little twinge of sadness at what might've been made her change course to leave work through the main lobby.

She only intended to pass by whoever the young teller happened to be talking to, but as soon as she came around the corner, she stopped so abruptly one of her three-inch heels nearly went out from under her.

Off balance, that's how she felt, both physically and emotionally, teetering on the edge of a fall, and it wasn't the cold tile floor she worried most about colliding with. No. The real imminent collision concern in the lobby came in the form of Hal Orion.

She'd known this would happen eventually. She'd prepared herself for the moment when she would see her again. She had even given considerable thought to what she'd say when the moment arrived, and yet somehow she couldn't remember any of those well-rehearsed words any longer. She couldn't summon any words at all, actually. All that registered in her mind right then was how much she wanted to hold her, to touch her, to kiss her.

Damn it.

She couldn't think those things, or feel them.

She certainly couldn't act on them.

Not here, not now. Maybe not ever.

She had to back up, back away. Slowly. She could edge out of the lobby. Hal never had to know she was there. Before Quinn could even fully process the idea of a retreat, Hal looked up, her brown eyes meeting Quinn's in the way that made everything else recede. Hal's smile was slow, tentative, and sweet as she smoothly stepped around the young teller and toward Quinn. The girl made a futile attempt to
stop her, but Quinn couldn't hear what she said, and Hal didn't appear to, either.

“Hi, Quinn.”

“Hello, Hal,” she managed.

“I didn't mean to barge in, but I thought you might be here.”

“I'm just leaving.”

Hal made a show of looking at her watch. “At four o'clock?”

“Ms. Banning?” the teller asked, fear causing her voice to rise an octave from her already high pitch.

“It's all right.” Quinn waved her away. “I always have time on my schedule for Ms. Orion.”

“Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't know.”

“It's fine,” Quinn said, trying to offer her a placating smile, but she couldn't take her eyes off Hal.

“Do they all live in constant fear of you?” Hal asked as soon as the girl was out of earshot.

“She's new. I may have been a bit short-tempered for the last couple weeks.”

“Oh, must be something in the air. Sully mentioned a time or two that I've had a shorter fuse recently too. I blame the humidity.”

“Yes, Buffalo is known for its humidity,” Quinn said seriously. “My office is nicely air-conditioned though.”

“And yet you're running out so early, by your standards.”

“Yes, well, someone recently pointed out I might be a bit controlling and that I may even use my job as a way of not exactly having to deal with some bigger issues.”

“That person sounds like a real asshole.”

Quinn laughed, a real, genuine laugh, and several people turned to look at them. Most of her employees had probably never heard that sound from her. She didn't want them to hear anything else she needed to say either. “Would you like to step into my office?”

“Well, that's what I came here for, but I hate to be the one who encourages you to break whatever new resolutions you've made.”

“Well, normally it wouldn't be such a big deal,” Quinn said earnestly, “except I did have dinner plans.”

“Oh.” Hal's shoulders dropped. “I can come back another time. Or not, if you'd rather I didn't.”

“It's not what you think.”

“No?”

“It's just that on Tuesday all the local food trucks gather in Larkin Square. I'd missed the last couple of weeks, and I hoped to make up for that . . . and maybe some other things this week.”

“Really?” Hal's dark eyes sparked to life again.

“Really,” Quinn said, feeling a bit of a spark in her as well. “But I suddenly get the feeling my favorite food truck isn't there tonight.”

“Yeah, on second thought, your office might actually offer you the best dinner menu in town tonight.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows, and Hal lifted up a plastic grocery bag holding two take-out containers.

Intrigued, Quinn nodded for Hal to follow her back and cleared a space on her already clean desk. “All right, you've piqued my interest.”

“Well.” Hal straightened her shoulders and shook the dark tuft of hair from her eyes. “I wasn't lying to your young minion out there. I did come here today for a business meeting. You see, I heard you're looking for a food-truck chef you can clean up and make into a presentable member of Buffalo's culinary avant-garde.”

“Hal, I'm so sorry.”

“No.” Hal cut her off. “I'm sorry. Your assistant told me the project is canceled.”

“It wasn't what I really wanted.”

Hal seemed skeptical. “Really?”

“Yes. I was trying to force something to be something it never could. You helped me see that.”

“I didn't mean to.”

“Well, you did. All my talk about wanting something lasting, something durable, something I can depend on, was true. I do want all those things, but instead of just owning those desires and messy fears and the insecurities, I tried to turn them into something concrete, quantifiable, controllable.” Quinn sighed. “It didn't work. Obviously.”

“Didn't it?” Hal set the grocery bag on the corner of the desk and fished out a manila folder before handing it to Quinn.

“What's this?”

“A loan application.”

She opened the folder and scanned the paperwork she'd seen thousands of times. Hal had filled out the preliminary forms the bank used for business loans. For a restaurant. The restaurant where they'd held the pop-up. As collateral she'd listed “Cheesy Does It.”

“Hal . . . ” She shook her head. “I don't understand.”

“I've done a lot of thinking too.” Hal stepped close enough to brush her hand along Quinn's. “And I thought all your talk about something permanent made me feel claustrophobic. I tried to tell myself I wanted to hold onto my freedom, but that was a lie. Honestly, the idea of something lasting scared the crap out of me.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn't know if I could actually live up to your ideals. Forever has never been a word anyone wanted from me, or for me. I never learned how to hope for something enduring, but you changed that for me. You made me want things I didn't know I could ever be capable of having.”

“I am so sorry, Hal. I never wanted to control you, or change you. Not really. I'm the one who needed to change.”

“Please, stop apologizing. I was such a coward. I never even gave you a chance, Quinn. I was so sure we would let each other down that I made it happen. I forced you to leave me behind. It was easier than taking the chance on myself, on us.”

Quinn's chest constricted painfully. “You may have forced me to move on with the restaurant, but what you and I had was something different, something more. The ‘us' you're talking about never had to be tied up in a business deal. That's what I was coming to Larkin to tell you tonight.”

“I don't understand.”

“I do. I finally understand I was just using the restaurant as a logical excuse for something that wasn't logical. What I want is messy and emotional and risky, and it's you, Hal. I still want to build something lasting, something that will make my world better, something I can
be proud of and sure of, but no business can give me those things. Only you can.”

“Me?”

“I want a relationship with you.”

Hal could hardly breathe. God, she wanted this woman so badly, and in so many ways, but the urge to protect her was still strong. “I am a risky investment, Quinn.”

“You're not. You're smart and caring and resourceful and so damn beautiful, inside and out. I think love is always a little risky, but I've never been so happy to put my heart on the line for anything.”

“Love?”

“Yes,” Quinn said, her smile effervescent. “I love you.”

Hal laughed, the kind of laughter meant to banish tears. “I didn't even give you the sandwich.”

“The sandwich?” Quinn shook her head, but she laughed along. “I say I love you, and all you can think about is food?”

“Well, actually, yeah, but the two things go together. Bear with me.” Hal grabbed the take-out container and opened it, her hands bumbling as she unwrapped the sandwich and handed half of it to Quinn. “You see, the business loan was only the first part of why I came here today.”

“And this sandwich was the other part?”

“Just try it,” Hal urged.

Quinn pursed her beautiful lips, but only for a second, before she took a bite. Closing her eyes, she let out a low groan as she chewed. “Oh my God, what is in this?”

“It's bacon.”

She took another bite. “Clearly,” she managed to say with her mouth full.

“But it's also got brie cheese and Granny Smith apples.”

Quinn raised her eyebrows.

“I know, right?” Hal asked. “Who puts those two things on a sandwich? They shouldn't even go together. The brie is smooth, soft, with a buttery sweetness. The apples are tart and almost acidic with an uncompromising crispness. They couldn't be more different. The
flavors, the textures, everything about them should clash, and maybe they kind of do, but even that clash makes them both better.”

“What do you call it?”

“Sully called it the
Fantastic Thing
, but I think it's more than that. I think it's exactly what I needed to help me see that even though we are dramatically different, we're not discordant. We can come together to make something amazing. We can complement each other. We can be the
Perfect Pairing
.”

“The
Perfect Pairing
,” Quinn repeated. “You think?”

“Yes, I want that, Quinn, and I think you and I can be that, together. I love you.”

Quinn's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “I've heard of people proposing in song and proclaiming their love through poetry, but you may be the first person in history to illustrate that message with a sandwich.”

“And?”

“And it is a damned good sandwich,” Quinn said, setting it aside and taking Hal's hand in her own. “But no creation can ever be more perfect than its creator.”

Hal's heart felt so big and full it pressed against her ribs. She had no room left to breathe, no air left to speak, even if she could have found the words worthy of responding to something so beautiful. Instead, she kissed Quinn. Sweet, strong, smooth and crisp, they paired better than any mix of ingredients she'd ever tasted before.