All It Takes

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All It Takes Page 10

by Proby, Kristen


  Jerks.

  “I made pancakes,” Louise says. “That might help you feel better.”

  “No.” I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee, which is cooling off. “I can’t do pancakes.”

  “How about an omelet?” Quinn asks, catching my attention.

  “Oh, that actually sounds good.”

  “You got it. Sit down, I’ll get you a bottle of water, and make you the omelet.”

  “I’d like an omelet,” Rich says.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to make yourself one,” Quinn says and winks at me. “I’m too busy taking care of my girl.”

  “Okay, there he goes, being swoony again,” Lou says with a wide smile.

  “Swoony?” Quinn asks.

  “Ignore them,” I say before Louise can respond. “They’re both dumb. And they definitely don’t deserve your omelet.”

  “We have to run anyway,” Lou says as she and Rich stand and gather their things. “But I’ll call you later.”

  “It was good to see you, sugar pie.” Rich hugs me tightly, then nods at Quinn. “Be nice to her, or Lou will kick you in the balls.”

  “Um, okay,” Quinn replies.

  “It’s a thing,” Louise agrees with a smile as she waves and leaves with Rich.

  “Oh, come on, you’re an attorney. Surely you’ve had your family jewels threatened before.” Quinn sets my omelet before me and then leans on the countertop, thinking it over.

  “Once or twice, but typically not while they had a smug smile on their face.”

  I can’t help but laugh, then sigh from the dull ache behind my eyes.

  “Seriously, sweetheart, drink some water. It’ll help.”

  He opens the bottle for me, and I take a long drink. “Thank you, for all this.”

  “You’re welcome. We should get ready to head out. We have to go to work today.”

  I glare at him. “Not today, Satan.”

  “Yes, today.” He laughs and makes himself an omelet. “We still have three-quarters of the boxes in the attic to go through, and time’s slipping away on the deadline.”

  I sigh and brace my face in my hand. “You’re right. I never thought I’d be so sick of paper in my life. It’s tedious.”

  “But it’s paying off,” he reminds me and leans over to kiss my temple. “You’re finding your proof, and I get to spend time with you. It’s a win-win.”

  “But what about you winning?” I ask, frowning at him.

  “As long as we find the truth, we both win. That’s what matters here.”

  “You are swoony.”

  “I have my moments,” he agrees with a smug smile. “And after work today, I want to take you somewhere fun.”

  “Am I going to need a safety harness? A helmet?”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Chapter Ten

  ~Sienna~

  “I love the zoo,” I say with a wide smile as Quinn pulls into the Bronx Zoo parking. “This will be great. I need to take a long walk.”

  “We’re not here to see the animals,” he says as he takes my hand and pulls me out of his Porsche, locks the car, and leads me toward the entrance.

  “Then why in the world are we at the zoo?”

  “Zip lining.”

  I stop in my tracks, pulling him to a stop with me.

  “No.”

  I shake my head adamantly, but Quinn laughs, kisses my hand, and nudges me to keep walking.

  “It’ll be fun. Fresh air is exactly what we need after spending all this time around dusty papers.”

  “I’m afraid of heights,” I admit and bite my lip, already dreading this. “Seriously, you can zip-line, and I’ll cheer you on and then we can go see the tigers.”

  “You zip-line and then I’ll take you to see the tigers.”

  We approach the gate and he pays for two passes, for both the zoo and the zip lining, and I follow him inside.

  “Quinn—”

  He pulls me into his arms now, holding me in a tight hug, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Sienna, you’re the fiercest woman I know. You can do this.”

  “I know, I just don’t want to.” I take a deep breath, snuggling against him, and then let it out slowly. I’m pouting, and I know it. I’ve never faced so many fears in my life like I have in just the short time I’ve known Quinn.

  It’s actually kind of badass. He’s right, I can do it. And if it makes him happy in the process, what’s the harm?

  He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Let’s go check it out. If it still freaks you out, we’ll go see the tigers.”

  “I don’t understand what’s so exciting about being three hundred feet in the air.” My voice isn’t pouty now, but more curious.

  “I wish this were that high up,” he says with a sigh. “Unfortunately, we’re restricted by the city, and this one is only about forty feet off the ground.”

  “Only. I could still fall to my death.”

  “You won’t,” he says with the confidence that only Quinn has. “Not to mention, this is a side-by-side line, so we can go at the same time.”

  “Is that supposed to be encouraging?”

  He grins and winks. “Yep.”

  Just then, two people sail over us, laughing and whooping.

  “See? They’re having fun.”

  “They looked sixteen.”

  “This is a sport for all ages,” he assures me.

  “I warned you that I’m not a thrill seeker.”

  He frowns, and I feel a bit guilty. He’s trying to include me in things that he likes to do for fun, and given that the man is a workaholic who doesn’t get out of the office much, he’s not only taking time off, he’s including me.

  And that says a lot.

  “But I’m going to try it.”

  His face transforms back into a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  I take a deep breath when we approach the guys in their gear, and the next thirty minutes is full of fittings and instructions.

  “Here’s your helmet,” Quinn says, passing it to me. I try to put it on my head, but my bun is in the way. “You’ll have to take your hair down.”

  I wrinkle my nose, but do as he says and tuck my hair tie in my pocket. The helmet slips on easily, fastening under my chin.

  “You look cute in this outfit.”

  “Oh good, because that’s what I was going for.”

  Quinn laughs and takes out his phone, snapping a selfie of the two of us, and then we’re on a platform, looking down forty feet to the ground.

  “It’s really high.”

  “I’ve zip-lined five hundred feet in the air before,” Quinn says, shaking his head. “This is an easy one.”

  “Goodie,” I mutter under my breath. I’m going to die. This is how it happens.

  “Hey.” I glance over at Quinn, who’s smiling at me, and holding his hand out for mine, which I take. “I’m going to be right next to you the whole way. Don’t close your eyes because you’ll miss it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  And the next thing I know, we’re sailing through the air, held up with only some cables and sheer will, and it’s . . . exhilarating.

  Fun, even.

  “Holy shit!” I call out. Our arms are stretched out as we sail, both of us laughing and looking at the zoo, the trees around us. It’s magnificent.

  And something I never would have done without Quinn.

  We go on three more runs, and then the gear is taken off me, the helmet unfastened, and I immediately twist my hair back up.

  “You should wear it down,” Quinn says casually. “I like your hair.”

  “It gets in my way,” I say and take his offered hand. “Are we going to see the tigers now?”

  “A promise is a promise.”

  “That’s right. Also, I want a churro and a Coke.”

  “Now you’re asking a lot.”

  “Hey, I conquered my fear of heights for you.”

  “A churro and a Coke it is.”

&
nbsp; “Is it Wednesday already?” I check the calendar on my desk when Uncle Patrick walks into my tiny office and sits in the chair next to my desk. I came to the office today for research and for a change of scenery. “Time is flying by.”

  “Wednesday at noon,” he confirms with a wink. He looks so much like Grandpa, the way I remember him from when I was small. “But instead of going out today, I brought lunch to you.”

  He sets a brown bag on my desk, and we dig into sandwiches and pickles.

  “Thank you for this.”

  “I know you’ve been busier than normal,” he says and takes a sip of his water. “How is the case going, by the way?”

  “Not bad, actually.” I take a bite of my sandwich, surprised at just how hungry I was. “But it’s slow going.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “I don’t think so.” I wipe my mouth and my phone rings. “Do you mind if I take this?”

  “Of course not.”

  “This is Sienna.”

  “Hi, Sienna, it’s London. I’m sure you’re at work, and I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  “No worries, London. What’s up?”

  “Well, the guys are working late today, and I thought you and I could meet up for a drink when you’re finished for the day? There’s a great place near Finn’s office that has the best martinis in town.”

  “That actually sounds like a lot of fun. I’d love to. Can I text you when I’m leaving here?”

  “That’s perfect. I’m excited to see you.”

  “Same here, see you soon.”

  I hang up and turn to Uncle Patrick, who’s watching me curiously. I’m sure he could hear most of my conversation. My office is so small we’re practically bumping elbows.

  “I thought you were working on the park case in the evenings,” he says.

  “I am, but Quinn has to work late with his brother, so I’m going to meet with London, Quinn’s brother’s fiancée, for drinks until Quinn’s free.”

  “In the city, where the files aren’t.”

  I sit back and wipe my mouth again, watching him steadily.

  “Yes.”

  “Sienna, I don’t know that it’s appropriate for you to be working so closely with the opposing counsel of a case. I would hate to see you get thrown off the case because you’re acting . . . inappropriately.”

  I chew a bite of my pickle, surprised at both my uncle’s opinion, and my immediate need to defend myself.

  “Well, although Quinn and I are working for different sides of the same case, we are working toward the same goal: to find the truth. Not to mention, the judge okayed us working together. This case is over a hundred years old, Uncle Patrick. There’s no way that I could do all this work alone.”

  “I’m simply voicing my concerns.”

  “And you have.” I toss my wrapper in the trashcan, irritated that he’s questioning my motives and my work ethic. He knows that my family and this case are important to me. “I wouldn’t do anything to mess this up. It’s important to me, our family, and the city. So believe me when I say that I’m motivated to win this case, and who I choose to spend my free time with won’t affect that.”

  “Good.” His face is sober as he stands. “I know you have a heavy workload, and I won’t keep you longer. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep me posted on this.”

  “You know I can’t do that.” I frown up at him, and finally stand. “I can’t tell you much.”

  He winks. “We can talk privately.”

  “Whether we’re in my office or in your house, the answer is the same.”

  He nods, then turns and walks out of my office, and I’m left wondering what the hell just happened. Uncle Patrick knows that I can’t talk about the case, and he’s never questioned my judgment before.

  Is it grief talking? Concern? I don’t know, but I don’t like it.

  “Over here!”

  London’s by the windows, waving in my direction. Her long, dark hair is down and curly, and her smile is wide and friendly.

  Yes, I think London and I are going to be friends.

  “Hey, sorry it took so long for me to get here. Traffic was a bitch.” I set my handbag in the chair next to me and sit down.

  “You’re fine, and I took the liberty of ordering you a lemon drop.”

  “Bless you.” I sigh and take a sip of my cocktail. London reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and I immediately make grabby hands. “First things first. I need to see this ring.”

  “He’s a crazy man,” she says with a laugh, holding her hand out for me to ogle the sparkly diamond on her finger.

  “It looks better on you than it did in the box.”

  “Did he show you?”

  I nod and sip my drink. “He was nervous, and I told him that with a ring like that, he had nothing to worry about.”

  “He could have given me a Cracker Jack ring and I still would have said yes,” she replies, looking dreamily at her hand. “But he did good.”

  “How did he propose? He said you guys were going to Martha’s Vineyard, but that’s all I know.”

  “Well, we fell in love there,” she begins. “We own houses next door to each other, and we both spent a lot of time there last year.”

  “The ol’ next-door neighbor trick,” I say with a nod, making her laugh.

  “Exactly. We hadn’t been back there in a long while because we’ve both been so busy with work, so when he suggested that we fly over for the weekend after opening night, I jumped at it. I miss the beach so much.”

  “The beach is the best. I haven’t been in years.”

  “Oh, you guys should go stay in one of our places. You’re welcome anytime.”

  “Thank you. Now, get to the good stuff.”

  “Right.” She laughs and shifts in her chair. “So, a storm was rolling in, and I’m horribly afraid of storms. Like, my anxiety kicks up, and I’m a wreck. It’s been that way since I was a kid.

  “Finn knows this, of course, and he’s great at calming me down. Usually, he just distracts me with his naked antics, and it works marvelously.”

  “As it should.”

  “I do like you,” she says with a laugh. “Anyway, we’d been at the house for a couple of hours, and it was late because the show went late, and it was chaotic. So, we’re lying in bed, and I can see the lightning, and I’m starting to get keyed up. Finn starts the whole naked antics thing—”

  “Bless him.”

  “And then he stops, and he’s, like, I was going to do this tomorrow on the beach, but I just can’t wait. And he asked me to marry him.”

  “Well, that’s one way to distract you from the storm.”

  “Right? I don’t think I’ll ever see a storm and not think of that moment. It was special.”

  “What are you going to tell other people when they ask you how he proposed?”

  “I can’t exactly say he asked me during naked antics,” she says, biting her lip. “I guess I’ll just say he asked me at the beach. It’s true.”

  “Perfect.” I hold my glass up to clink against hers. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Now, let’s talk about you and Quinn.”

  “There have been some naked antics,” I concede, making her snort.

  “It looked like more than that at the opening,” she says. “I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Like you hung the moon and every star in the sky.”

  “I like him,” I reply and shrug one shoulder. “We’re spending a lot of time together because of this case. I don’t know what will happen when it’s over.”

  “Why?”

  “He’ll go back to working eighty hours a week, of course.”

  “Maybe he won’t. Finn has learned how to balance both.”

  “I don’t know if Quinn wants that,” I reply thoughtfully. “He loves the thrill of his job.”

  “And he can still have that,” she points out. “Don’t write him off so easily.
Sometimes a person is willing to do more than they thought possible with the right motivation.”

  “You never know,” I agree. “I’m not writing him off. I guess I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

  “Nothing wrong with that either.”

  “We found you.”

  Finn and Quinn approach the table. Finn kisses London passionately, and I turn to Quinn with a smile, but I’m swept up as well, in a hot kiss that makes my toes curl in my fancy Louboutins.

  “Well, hello there,” I say when he pulls away.

  “Hi. I brought you these.” He passes me roses with white petals that turn to pink at the tips. “It’s my apology for being late.”

  “You’re forgiven.” I bury my nose in them and breathe deeply. “They’ll look great in my studio.”

  “Quinn told us that you’re an artist, Sienna,” Finn says after he and Quinn order beers. “I saw the painting hanging in his condo.”

  “Did you paint that?” London asks with wide eyes.

  “I did,” I confirm.

  “It’s beautiful. Do you ever do custom work?”

  “I haven’t before, but I don’t see why I couldn’t.”

  “Oh, I’d love a painting of the beach house to hang in our Manhattan home,” she says, clapping her hands in excitement. “We don’t go there often enough. Could you work from photos?”

  “Why don’t we go there?” Quinn asks, surprising me.

  “Because we’re in the middle of a case?”

  He shrugs one shoulder and takes a sip of his beer. “When the case is done, we could take a weekend and go.”

  “You really should,” Finn says. “It’s beautiful there, and then you can see the house in person. You can even paint there, if you want.”

  “I have a great sunroom,” London says, opening the photos on her phone and turns the screen to me, showing me an enclosed porch with a view of the water.

  “That would be a great place to paint.”

  “It’s settled then,” Quinn says and links his fingers with mine under the table. “We’ll get the case finished up, and then we’ll slip away for a few days.”

  “Okay.” I nod, thinking it over. “I had to reschedule my vacation time for this case, I’m sure I can talk my boss into extending my sabbatical with vacation. I’ll take a week off work, and when we get back, I’ll finish your painting.”

 

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