Like a Boss (Accidentally Viral)

by Anne Harper

  And that’s what it felt like, she decided.

  Walking the plank.

  Why?

  Because he didn’t call.

  The thought whipped through Nell’s head just as the man came into view, head bent over his desk.

  Nell understood he’d had Owen but she had still expected to get a call. Dislike for technology or not.

  But she hadn’t.

  She’d only assumed they’d talk when she came in for work.

  Now, slowing into the doorway, Nell felt disappointed and angry before he’d even seen her.

  “The talk with Donavon didn’t go well.” It wasn’t a question that Nell asked, it was a declaration she guessed was true. “Is he selling Heart in Hand now?”

  When Quinn’s gaze swept up to hers it was just confirmation.

  He didn’t smile.

  Not one bit.

  “We just can’t do this, Nell.” His words were definite.

  “What did Donavon say?” Nell heard the anger in her rising.

  Quinn shook his head.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “We just can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Nell’s chest squeezed.

  Then that anger heated everything up.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nell thought she handled herself well enough when leaving Heart in Hand right after her anger neared the point of no return. It helped, she was sure, that in no small part was it fueled by one person. And he spent his Monday mornings at the café on Main.

  Quinn didn’t call after her as she excused herself and she was quiet, tight-lipped, and even passed a congenial smile to Owen and Jones on her way out. Neither man nor boy seemed to notice something dangerous was brewing beneath Nell’s surface as she said she’d be back soon and went out to her car.

  However, within the confines of that car, Nell’s anger and frustration turned into a conversation between herself and the steering wheel that could eventually end in disaster for her when it stopped being between her and an inanimate object and the person she was aiming for.

  Donavon Robertson. A man she’d worked tirelessly for since day numero uno.

  He had no right to play with them all like he was and claim it was because of business, especially not what was going on between her and Quinn.

  They were fated, gosh darn it!

  “How dare I?” Nell said to her steering wheel as she pulled into the communal parking lot near the café. “How dare you, sir!”

  It wasn’t the best argument but it was doing its best to streamline her hurt into something that was more chaotic. Something that didn’t land long enough for her to see all the flaws in her plan to ream the man who held her job, and apparently future love life, in his rich, non-drama-loving hands.

  Nell slid into a parking spot, adrenaline surging at the sight of Donavon’s fancy-schmancy sports car already tucked into a spot.

  Quinn fought for you, job be damned, and now it’s your turn.

  She straightened her blouse again, hoped there were no teenagers with smartphones around, and threw open her car door with raging purpose. It was only by chance that a flash of pink was strolling past as she did so.

  “Lordy me, child!” Nell grabbed at her door before it hit none other than Mrs. McMurray and her cardboard cup of coffee. Did Nell have a superpower for summoning people just by thinking about them? “And they call me the hurricane.”

  Nell was out of the car, door shut between them, with an automatic apology on her tongue.

  She swallowed it before it could come out and ruin her go get ’em attitude.

  “They call you the hurricane because you don’t mind trying to destroy everyone and everything in your way,” Nell bit out. “Whether it’s good people just trying to navigate this sometimes cruel and unfair world or not.”

  Mrs. McMurray was wearing a blouse covered in a goose print and had a pair of bright pink sunglasses nestled into her nearly matching hair. Still, when she leveled her gaze on Nell, there was a sense of authority that rang through. Nell rolled her shoulders back as if she could stand up against the gale-force Mrs. McMurray wind.

  She expected a blanket verbal assault before it narrowed down into a precision attack. One that was a variation of what the older woman had said to Quinn.

  Yet Mrs. McMurray decided to jump the course.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Bennett,” she said. “I really am.”

  Nell’s anger nose-dived into confusion.

  “You’re sorry?”

  She nodded. Her sunglasses shifted against the hairspray-laden curls.

  “I was about to be on my way to Heart in Hand to ask you to lunch to say all the polite, rehearsed words but I just needed to set a few things straight with Donavon first.” She motioned back to the café. Nell felt her eyes narrow in on it.

  “I’m here for the same reason,” she muttered.

  A simple enough phrase led Nell deeper into a bizarre conversational turn. Mrs. McMurray went from all confidence and purpose to sympathy in a flash. It softened her expression and turned her apology frown into a pitying smile. She might not have been the stereotypical southern woman but that was as southern a move as they came.

  “I asked him about what Mr. Hannigan told me about Heart in Hand’s status and he told me what happened.” Mrs. McMurray shook her head. “I never was one for relationships, except with my husband, bless his soul, but I know they can hurt when they should do anything but. It’s a shame, really, about what’s happened with you and Quinn. I was sure there was something there after he gave me a piece of his mind the other day.”

  Nell couldn’t help her head tilt in question.

  “Donavon told you about me and Quinn?”

  For a man who didn’t like scandal and gossip, he sure hadn’t minded telling their business apparently. Something else Nell would no doubt talk to him about.

  “He said that Mr. Hannigan gave him a convincing speech about the future of Heart in Hand.”

  “The future of Heart in Hand,” Nell repeated.

  Mrs. McMurray’s curls bounced.

  “Donavon was about to announce the sale after the show Mr. Hannigan gave at lunch with me but apparently your boss laid everything out on the line before he did. He said that you two had feelings for each other but would never be an item so there was no reason to let that affect his decision on who to sell to. Instead he should look at what you’ve all done and, I’m paraphrasing though I appreciate the play on words, to ‘have a heart.’”

  Nell didn’t know which piece of information to attach to first.

  “So Donavon didn’t ask that Quinn and I stay apart?” Nell decided on. “He didn’t offer it up to convince Donavon to hold off on the sale?”

  Mrs. McMurray shook her head. That pitying look was still there.

  Nell hated it.

  “From what Donavon told me, he even told Quinn it was unnecessary to make such a declaration,” she answered. “He is about to sell the business. What does he care who dates who after that?”

  Nell opened her mouth. Then closed it.

  “I don’t understand,” she finally landed on. “Quinn just told me that we couldn’t and I-I just assumed Donavon…”

  There it was again. Pure and thick as maple syrup sympathy.

  “From what I understood, Mr. Hannigan is the one who said he didn’t want the two of you to happen. Not Donavon.”

  Nell didn’t open her mouth this time.

  She couldn’t pretend to know what to say.

  …

  Monday remained quiet. Tuesday and Wednesday, too.

  Heart in Hand was practically a ghost town by Thursday and that went double for any talks about selling to Quinn or Nell or anyone else.

  It wasn’t until Friday that Nell finally came into Quinn’s office without any guise of work.
It was also the first time since Monday that she looked him in the eye.

  He should have known then that he was caught.

  That she knew.

  Yet he gave her a weak smile as the sound of Jones, Tally, and Owen playing catch in the backyard sounded just past the window behind them.

  Maybe that was why she was here. Now.

  For the first time since Monday they were both alone.

  And Nell wasn’t wasting time, either.

  “I’m loud,” she said, standing just in front of his desk. She held her hands together in front of her waist like someone finally giving a speech they’d spent some time rehearsing.

  “You’re loud?”

  “And you’re quiet,” she continued. “In a normal situation I don’t think we would have ever had a reason to meet. To attach. But we did. I was too loud in a restaurant and you were so quiet that it calmed me down. We’re just different people. I went viral and you hate technology. You’d call the cops if someone was disturbing the public and I’d bring them beer and enough trash talk to make Mateo proud. You’d leave the sex toys in the closet; I’d steal them and throw them in a crab trap. I think there’s something nice about that—as two people, we don’t match. You brood, I project.” She shrugged. “But there’s something about the two of us when we’re together. We don’t fit into the same puzzle but boy do we still make a pretty picture.”

  Nell’s entire demeanor changed.

  From open to closed in a millisecond.

  “But you don’t want that pretty picture, do you?”

  There it was.

  Quinn didn’t get the chance to answer.

  “You lied to me. Donavon didn’t try to keep us apart. That was you. You said we would never happen. You told him that. Why?”

  Quinn should have been ready for this. He should have had his own prepared response that he’d rehearsed. He wasn’t and he didn’t.

  His words came out harsher than he meant them.

  “I think we got caught up in the exact something that we both needed. We met after the man you would have married, had he asked, ended things and when I was in the middle of a move to a new life, away from my failed marriage. We never expected to see each other again and then we were forced to work together every day. It’s been nice but it hasn’t been real. Not the way it should be. Look at this place. Look at Heart in Hand’s murky future. Our feelings for each other have already had consequences. Ones that could make both of our lives harder.” He shook his head. “Like you said yourself, we don’t make sense together. We’re just here together. Not each other’s ‘the one.’”

  Quinn shouldn’t have said it, but he knew it would do the trick.

  And what a trick it was.

  The damage was done in an instant. Nell’s hands dropped to her side and her expression went blank. For a second, Quinn wasn’t sure she’d say anything, but if one thing rang absolutely true it was that Antonella Bennett had a knack for knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.

  “I’m not going to stand here and beg for you to want me because, for one, I’m worth more to myself than that and, for two, you don’t beg someone who cares about you to care about you. But I will say this, because I’m tired of hearing it and want to set the record straight.”

  She took a step closer to the desk and leaned over a little. Quinn couldn’t have looked away had he wanted to cut his gaze. It was a good thing he didn’t. Instead he stayed in those amber eyes.

  “I would have married Greg had he asked. I would have said yes and I would have walked down the aisle. Because that’s what you do. You date someone that long, you run the risk of building up this idea of what’s supposed to happen and only assume it’s the same on the other side. But it wasn’t and when Greg finally realized it, it was like he pulled a blindfold off of me, too. The anger, the anguish, the loudness you saw at the restaurant was relief and regret. I just didn’t know it then.”

  She stood tall again. Quinn kept following her gaze.

  “But I know it now. For the first time in a long while, I felt relief at knowing what I didn’t want.” She sighed. Then the smallest of smiles graced her lips. “And it wasn’t until after we said goodbye for the first time and I looked at that Polaroid of us sitting on my passenger’s seat that I felt regret at finally knowing what I wanted and not being able to do a thing about it.”

  The smile left her face. Quinn hated himself then. Or, really, the moment he decided what needed to happen. He’d never felt like this before and he never wanted to feel like this again. Yet, he didn’t say a word to stop it. Even though it was breaking his heart.

  She was done but not through.

  “You’ve made it clear what you want and don’t want and, this time, I won’t be the one leaving with regret.” Nell nodded, as if more to herself than him, and started to turn away. “Everything else with Heart in Hand we’ll figure out. Just like we always do. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  And then Nell was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Owen left with his mother Saturday morning. He had a birthday party to go to and Deborah was done with her work. It put Quinn into another one of his sour-grape moods but he held it in until their car was driving away. His love for his son could fix almost anything with him.

  But it couldn’t fix his own mistakes.

  Or the decisions he’d made in the best interest of someone else.

  Quinn settled onto his small couch and angled so he was staring at the window. The same one Nell had rocketed out of like it was a sport after their passion-filled tumble through the tiny house.

  He could no more say he would have made the same choice if he’d been in her position when she’d escaped into the woods than he could claim that he knew if he’d made a mistake or a good decision with her now.

  He and Nell were…complicated.

  And the choice to smother whatever flame had been burning between them hadn’t helped things at all. At least, not the way he’d hoped it would.

  It was true. Donavon hadn’t given him a bottom line about Nell and, even if he had, there was really no point to it. He wasn’t going to be the owner of Heart in Hand for long according to his own admission and he’d made it clear that he also wasn’t going to make any staff changes before he let the place go.

  “It’s your show,” Donavon had said. “You do what you think is best and, despite the whole punching someone in the face and giving Mrs. McMurray a big piece of humble pie, I do trust your judgment. In most things at least. If you want to be with Miss Bennett, that’s your decision, not mine.”

  Quinn had felt surprise, relief, and, more troubling, disappointment. He had gone to Donavon to tell the man to not punish everyone for just living their lives in a small town, to have a heart, and realize for every somewhat scandalous or drama-related thing that had happened there were a hundred great things that the team had done since Heart in Hand opened.

  But Quinn had realized that he hadn’t just gone to the Robertson Estate to defend the people he’d come to care about.

  He’d hoped, just enough to startle him, that Donavon would force his hand.

  That he’d point out if Quinn bought Heart in Hand how being involved with someone who worked for him could create problems down the line if they didn’t work out. Problems that would jeopardize the stability he was trying to make for Owen.

  Problems that might not ever happen but absolutely could.

  Problems that led him and his son’s future into the unknown.

  But he hadn’t so Quinn did it for him.

  He hadn’t liked it but it needed to be done. Even if he took the coward’s way out and tried to blame it on someone else.

  Quinn should have known Nell would find out, just as he should have known her words would find his shame and press down hard on it.

  “And it wasn’t until af
ter we said goodbye for the first time and I looked at that Polaroid of us sitting on my passenger’s seat that I felt regret at finally knowing what I wanted and not being able to do a thing about it.”

  Nell’s words had been on repeat for him since she’d left his office with a small smile on her lips. She’d said her piece. Just like in the restaurant. What had he done in return?

  Remained quiet and taken it. Watched her leave, knowing it was what he wanted but wondering why it gutted him, too.

  Nell had shaken up his world. She deserved someone who wouldn’t do the same to hers. They were just too different. They were just too distracted by one another. They were just too—

  A car door shut outside of the house.

  Quinn had been so far into his own head that he hadn’t heard anyone drive up.

  He was off of the couch and standing in the open door in a second flat.

  Had Nell come to see him before the party?

  “Mr. Hannigan.”

  He saw the pink hair first, the blouse with giant peaches across it second, and the razor-sharp smile third.

  Mrs. McMurray walked with purpose and precision right up to him.

  “Mrs. McMurray,” he said back, just as severe.

  The older woman didn’t seem unamused at his tone. In fact a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Then she nodded back to the living area behind him.

  “I’d like a word with you, unless you’ve decided you’d rather spend the day in self-pity. Though, I should point out, what you can’t do today you can always do tomorrow. Self-loathing is also included in that list.”

  Quinn huffed out a sigh but stepped aside and motioned her in.

  “You know, Mrs. McMurray, I’m beginning to think you can’t have a conversation with someone without throwing in a barb or two,” he said as she settled on the couch. Quinn pulled one of the folding chairs out from against a cabinet and sat across from her. “I’d almost say it’s like having OCD but instead of needing things to be in order all the time, you need to be a little offensive instead.”