Cindy’s mouth dropped as a flurry of emotions and thoughts pulsated through her mind. She watched him with a mixture of shock and dread. She would be separated from him—as a sex partner and as a friend, someone she’d grown attached to. The latter hurt her more than the former.
“They say there’s a time and a season for everything.” He looked back at her. “Our season is over.”
“You can’t do this,” her voice cracked. “I love you.”
Quentin’s eyes widened. He didn’t see that coming a mile away. “Since when?” he said.
“Since… since,” she stuttered, still in a state of disbelief.
“This is straight up bullshit. You knew what our relationship was. You knew,” he said.
Cindy shrugged. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
Quentin turned his head with a shake. A severe headache pounded at his skull. “I’m sorry.” He turned back to her. “I don’t love you. I’m in love with Phoebe. There will never be anything between you and I, Cindy. I’m sorry.”
A horn outside the condo blew long and hard as they stood there staring at each other.
“I’ll have your car sent to your home when it’s ready.”
“So that’s it? Just like that.”
Quentin thought for a moment. Firing Cindy would be best for his relationship with Phoebe, if he managed by God’s grace to win her back. The problem with that was Cindy could easily make his life a living hell. In this day and age, some women filed sexual harassment lawsuits if they were pissed off enough. Despite the truth, it would be his word versus hers. And he was the “notorious playboy.” The only way he saw fit to fix the situation was to keep Cindy away from him—and Phoebe. And to not disparage Cindy by firing her. He couldn’t fire her anyway; he knew his wrongness in the situation.
All the changes, the choices made, was the best call.
“This is it,” he said finally.
Cindy shoved her arms inside her jacket and walked past him robotically. At the front door, she stopped and looked back at him. Her mouth opened, but no words came from her. Instead, she turned and exited.
Soon after, Quentin had his jacket in hand and left in hopes of reuniting with the love of his life.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Her phone rang nonstop throughout the night. And every time the smooth sounds of Musiq Soulchild rang from her iPhone, Phoebe would silence it and stuff her face back into her pillow. Her world had come crashing down so fast that it made her delirious, and the agony in her heart was more than she could bare. Every time she replayed her strange encounter with Quentin, it never made sense.
He acted as if he was clueless that there was a naked woman in his bed. He seemed so genuine Phoebe almost wanted to believe him. Almost. Truthfully, what did she expect him to say or do? Furthermore, why would he give her a key to his place if he planned to see other women?
An image of Cindy trekked through Phoebe’s mind, and she frowned. It amazed her that Quentin slept with his assistant. It was so cliché and tacky. Phoebe thought about how Cindy stretched out across his bed, her back arched with a peer over her shoulder. There was no doubt they were sleeping together, or else why would she be comfortable enough with him to strip down and wait for his return?
For all Phoebe knew, they’d had sex before he left, and Quentin was coming back to finish the job. Too bad Phoebe interrupted them. Her mind traveled to the love they made at his apartment and in Paris. It was irresistibility amazing to Phoebe, but maybe Quentin wasn’t satisfied. Her frown deepened as her thoughts darkened, and she questioned being enough for him.
“Phoebe.”
Phoebe snapped her head up to Jordan, then glanced around the conference room.
“Um, what was the question?” she asked.
Jordan’s brows dipped slightly. “Can you have Mike draw up the papers with the official statement written on it?”
“Yes. I’ll get on that right now.” Phoebe stood from the table and excused herself. Jordan resumed their meeting, but his thoughts stayed with Phoebe.
In her office, Phoebe braced her elbows on the desk and sank her fingers in her bone straight hair. Focusing on anything other than Quentin was becoming impossible, and at any moment she felt like she would scream. Besides that, Quentin would not let up on the calls. Every time she glanced at her phone, there was a missed call or text message.
In her heart, Phoebe wanted to hear him out. But the image of Cindy in his bed added an extra dose of fortitude in her, and she held out. The day moved at a snail’s pace, and she feared Jordan busting in and playing 20 Questions with her, so Phoebe hightailed it out of the office by 4 p.m. In her Mercedes, she drove across town to the Ritz Carlton and rented a suite for the week. It was crucial that she get her mind in order, and she couldn’t do that with people breathing down her neck.
When she didn’t come home the first night, her phone was flooded with calls and text messages from her sisters.
I’m okay will call later. She’d responded in a text with no intentions to call anytime soon. The next day at Rose and Garnett LLC, another bouquet of roses were delivered to her office. Phoebe almost tossed the note without looking but curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it up and read it.
I’m sorry. Please give me a chance to explain. Just one. – Quentin
Locking her jaw tight, Phoebe ripped the note and tossed it. She paced around her desk and hit a button on her phone that dialed her assistant.
“Yes, Ms. Rose?”
“Mike, would you mind taking these roses to the break room and replacing them with the ones from yesterday.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you.”
Phoebe folded her arms and glared at the beautiful flowers. As mad and hurt as she was with Quentin, none of that stopped the constant fluttering that carried on when she thought of him. She sighed and went on about her day, keeping busy for apparent reasons. That night when Eden called but didn’t get an answer, she left a threatening voicemail.
“If you don’t call me and tell us what’s up, I’m going to the police and telling them someone has kidnapped you and they’re holding you for ransom.”
Phoebe shook her head. Leave it to Eden to be that dramatic. Instead of calling, she sent another text.
I love you. I’ll see you Friday.
It didn’t take long for her to get a response.
This is about Quentin, isn’t it?
Phoebe sighed and leaned back, her MacBook Pro resting on the lap of her crossed legs.
I’ll see you Friday.
Then she powered off her phone and closed her eyes in a desperate attempt to drown out her thoughts.
The 1966 Ford Mustang pulled to a stop in front of Christopher Rose’s compound. Quentin reached to withdraw the keys from the ignition, shutting the pristine vintage automobile down on the street. Quentin glanced at himself in the mirror then peered back at the front door. He had planned to do this with Phoebe—talk with her family and tell them of their mutual love.
My, how fast things can change.
Current situations didn’t stop what Quentin had to say, so with much chagrin, he removed his long frame from the Mustang and strolled up the sidewalk to the front door. Pressing the doorbell, Quentin cleared his throat and counted the steps silently as someone approached the door.
When it swung open, a warm smile fell across Norma’s lips, and she ushered Quentin in as a wave of wind sailed into the house.
“Mr. Davidson,” Norma said, “you’re early, come on in.”
“How are you today, Mrs. Rose?”
Norma turned her lips up in a pout. “I thought I told you to call me Norma.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Quentin said.
Norma reached out and pulled Quentin in for a hug. “Come, follow me,” she said, releasing him and strolling down the corridor.
Inside his reading room, Christopher was laughing about a joke one of his sons had made when Norma entered with Quen
tin in tow.
Norma cleared her throat. “Look who’s here early,” she announced.
Quentin stepped from behind Norma as his eyes settled in on Jonathon, Jonas, Jaden, and Jacob before finally moving to Christopher. The men’s smiles slowly dissipated, and Christopher waved Quentin over.
“Quentin!” Christopher deep voice barked. “We weren’t expecting you for a little while, son.” Christopher assessed Quentin’s emotionless face. “Is there something I should be worried about?” Christopher frowned.
Quentin cleared his throat. “Phoebe and I had a misunderstanding,” he began. Groans bounced throughout the room, and Quentin exhaled a deep sigh.
“What happened?”
It was Jonathon who spoke up.
“What happened isn’t important,” Quentin stated firmly. “What is important is that I love Phoebe. I always have, and I always will. Dating her was never about testing any waters or for God’s sake playing with her heart. I would never do that to her. Now I know you all think I’m not good enough for Phoebe, and what kind of brother or father would you be if you didn’t? When my sister was dating, I didn’t think the guy she was dating was good enough for her either. But I can admit when I was wrong. Now they’re married, and she couldn’t be happier.”
“Just what are you saying, son?” Christopher asked.
Quentin took his focus to Christopher. “I’m in love with your daughter,” he said. “Have been for a long time, but I’ve always stayed away from her because I didn’t want to disappoint any of you.” Quentin swept his eye around the room to each one of them. “I can’t make you understand how much she means to me. All I can say is it would crush my own soul to do wrong by her, and I would much rather be dropped in the middle of nowhere than do anything of the sort. So today I plan to ask her to marry me, and I came over here hoping my brothers,” Quentin said, looking at them one by one again, “and father would give me the benefit of the doubt. I’d love your blessing.”
The room was quiet as each one took in his words. Jonas believed Quentin did love his sister. He’d known as much through the years, but Jonas never thought he’d see the day when Quentin finally admitted it.
“So that whole outburst on the beach was about you?” Jonathon asked.
“It was about all of us,” Quentin said.
Jaden nodded. “He’s right.”
“We were all treating her like a child, making decisions for her without so much as a thought to how she would feel about it,” Quentin added. “That stops now.”
The room became quiet again, and then Jonathon rose from his seat and strolled to stand before Quentin.
“For the record, it wasn’t that I didn’t think you were good enough. I know very well what your capacities are, I just didn’t know which road you were trying to take, and I was unwilling to let you play around with my sister. Period.”
They stared at each other for another second.
“I’m sorry,” Jonathon said. “You will always be my brother, and I shouldn’t have come at you the way I did. Just don’t fucking surprise me like that again.”
Quentin cracked a smile. “I’m sorry, too. Instead of having a conversation in detail about something I knew would hit you hard, I just kind of told you what I was doing.”
Jonathon nodded.
“Brothers?” Quentin held out his hand, and Jonathon didn’t need to look down at it to grasp it with a firm shake.
“Hell yeah,” Jonathon agreed. “Now let’s go get your wife.”
Quentin’s full-on devilish smile spread across his lips. It had taken him several days and a mini fortune to come up with something that would grab Phoebe's attention.
“Let’s go,” he said. “If my plan doesn’t work, nothing will.”
Across Town
Phoebe was late getting to her office. That morning she would be checking out of the Ritz, and she felt like taking extra time to get ready for work.
She flipped her hair and tightened her jacket as she walked through the double doors, heading straight for the elevator. The week had gone by at a crawl, and every day, she arrived at the office with another set of roses awaiting her. Several times, Phoebe had been on the verge of answering one of Quentin’s calls if for nothing else but to hear his absolute truth. But the sting of his betrayal kept her away, making her fall back in every case.
“Good morning,” a voice rang out.
Phoebe turned casually around, and disbelief spread across her face followed by a frown.
“Unless you need an attorney, I would suggest you leave the premises,” Phoebe snapped.
Cindy stepped closer to her, and Phoebe arched a brow. “Don’t get it twisted,” Phoebe said, “this is personal, and you’re in my space. I suggest you back up before I feel threatened all of a sudden and stand my ground.”
Cindy raised a brow and took a step back, but Phoebe kept her eyes cut on her.
“I didn’t come here for any trouble.”
“Yeah, could’ve fooled me.”
“I know I’m the last person you want to see, but I came here to tell you Quentin had no idea I’d be lying in his bed. When I came over, it was because my car had broken down at the job.” Cindy sighed at the annoyed look on Phoebe’s face. “Quentin left to help me out. I saw all the fuss he made for you—the fruit, food, wine, flowers, and… and I came up with the idea to…” Cindy cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m not the one he wants. It’s you.”
Phoebe stared at Cindy for another second before she turned her back and entered the elevator. When Phoebe was safely inside, and the doors closed, she exhaled and dropped her head. She’d missed Quentin like hell, and being without him for a week had been torturous. Give him a chance and talk to him. Phoebe exhaled a breath. The two had planned to have a conversation with her family. But now things had changed so drastically, and the last thing she wanted to hear was I told you so.
The doors to the elevator opened, and Phoebe stepped out and strolled through the office, going straight for her closed door. Jordan had watched her every day but never made a move to speak on his thoughts. Phoebe knew Jordan could tell something was up. She was grateful that he didn’t ask and let her be.
Phoebe entered her office and sat her briefcase down on the desk and powered her computer up to prepare for the day ahead. She tried and failed to shift her mind from Quentin to her work, and by lunch time, she’d given up and decided to call. Standing from her chair, Phoebe perched her butt onto her desk and pulled the receiver to her ear. As she dialed, Jordan knocked then entered with urgency. Phoebe looked at him quizzically.
“What’s up?” Phoebe asked.
“Rose and Garnet is on the news.”
Phoebe’s eyes widened, and she replaced the receiver. “What?” her voice rose, and she slipped off the desk to follow Jordan back into the main office area. Mike stood with the remote in his hand, elevating the volume. The local news station and camera crews were set up outside of the law firm. Their cameras recorded, and they spoke exponentially as what appeared to be a floating stage followed by a marching band sailed down the street.
As if the festivities had been planned, security personnel and police officers blocked off the streets, sending nearby drivers on a detour. The five members of the band were announced by the reporters as The Original Spice Girls, and Phoebe gasped and covered her mouth. Frantically, her eyes searched for him, and it didn’t take long for his array of charm to fill up the screen. As if Quentin knew exactly where she stood, he gazed into the camera and a wicked chill slipped down Phoebe’s spine when his eyes met hers.
The crowd simmered down just enough without completely shutting down the party.
Lead reporter from Fox 5 news Teresa Hardaway leaned toward Quentin and spoke. “Tell us why you’ve come here today and what the significance of this parade is to you.”
Teresa held the microphone out at him and Quentin spoke straight into the camera. “I’m in love, Teresa,” he said, “and I fear I may have lost some
one I could never live my life without because of a misunderstanding.”
The reporter peered at him, and Quentin’s bright handsome smile grew across his face. “I know what you’re thinking. But the truth is she’s the one.”
Phoebe’s heart lurched, and both hands flew to her mouth as tears stained her eyes.
“She’s always been the one,” he added. “Phoebe, you need to understand, I love you, sweetheart, and I would never disrespect you in any way.” Quentin paused. “You’ve got to believe me. You know me more than anyone. What does your heart tell you, baby?”
Phoebe’s heart rocked against her chest, and she cried harder as her feet moved across the room. Everyone in the law office stood as they watched her sprint out the door to the elevators. She hit the button furiously then abandoned the metal doors for the stairs and took the two flights down in record time. When she burst through and entered the lobby, her eyes widened at the real-life parade that sat just outside the doors. In enrapt awe, Phoebe cleared the exit and stepped outside into Chicago’s breezy January winds that coasted her within inches of Quentin’s towering frame.
Quentin’s eyes lit up upon seeing her, and immediately he reached out and pulled her into his arms as the cameras rolled.
“What’s with the marching band, and… the Spice Girls?” She smiled excitedly. “Now this is just being extra,” she teased.
Holding her, he reached out and tugged her nose. “If you haven’t noticed by now, I like to show you off. I only want big things for you, no matter how extravagant they may be. Besides that, I couldn’t seem to get your attention. I figured there’s no way you can ignore Geri Halliwell and a marching band. You’d be surprised what a shitload of money could do.”
Phoebe chuckled as a blush rose on her cheeks.
Quentin lifted her chin.
“I would never,” he said, and Phoebe nodded. “Still, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry, Phoebe. It was my responsibility to let anyone I’ve dealt with in my past know that the only person in this world I want is you, and I’ve got to know if you can spend the rest of your life letting me prove it.”
Mine (Falling For A Rose Book 7) Page 19
