“I like pancakes.” Kierra grinned. “Daddy makes them when he visits.”
When he visits.
Not when he’s home.
“Yeah? When’s your dad going to be here again?” Owen could only hope that the man would hear about what had happened and come home. It was hard for Owen to not have strong feelings about a man who’d leave his daughters to fend for themselves. Everyone had to work, but couldn’t the guy get a job a little closer to the homestead? He stuffed his personal baggage down deep. Just because he and his siblings had to more or less raise themselves didn’t mean he got to project on Quinn and Kierra. Much.
“Christmas?” Kierra shrugged. She didn’t say the word with much hope.
“When’s the last time he was home?” Owen scrubbed at the heating element, taking out his frustration on that.
“Um, right before Thanksgiving. He had to go back, so we had the turkey early.”
“That must be tough, not seeing him often.”
The light in Kierra’s eyes dimmed a bit.
Shit.
Had he hit a nerve?
“Quinn says Dad is in Neverland, that he’s playing Peter Pan. What does that mean?”
Owen bit his lip.
This was not a conversation he should have with Kierra. It was so easy to look at her and see a child, a little girl, and forget that her memory retention was almost perfect. He’d learned the hard way that she had what was considered a photographic memory.
He couldn’t lie to her, make up some story about how her dad was trying to save people or do the right thing. Because she’d remember the lie. He had to be honest with her, but he also didn’t want to hurt her.
“There we go.” He held up the cleaned element and smiled. “Let’s see if this works.”
“Are you ignoring my question?” Kierra tilted her head the other way.
“I’m trying to decide how to answer.” He slid the burner back in place and flipped it on. The stove hummed to life. “I think...that is something your sister will have to decide when to explain to you. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it would be out of line for me to break down what that statement means.”
“Like when Stacey plays with my dolls without asking me?”
“Yeah.” Owen winced. “Have you asked Stacey to not play with your dolls?”
“No. Delilah told Stacey it was okay.” Kierra pressed her little lips together.
“This is where I’m supposed to say that sharing is caring, I think.” Owen sighed. Navigating the complicated social structure of a little girl’s world was beyond him. Especially when dealing with three so uniquely gifted little girls.
“Look!” Kierra pointed at the burner turning red at the edges.
“Well, how about I make some pancakes?”
Owen grabbed the box of pancake mix from the pantry, checking inside for weevils or anything crawly, but it seemed safe. With Kierra’s help, he made the batter and poured the first few pancakes. He got the coffee going and checked the time.
His guess was—
“What are you doing?”
Despite knowing Quinn was due to wake up at any moment, the sound of her voice still made him freeze for a second, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Morning, Quinn.” Owen pasted on a smile and turned around.
“That burner doesn’t even work.” She groaned and pressed a hand to her face. The bruise had darkened under her eye and she hadn’t tried to hide it. With her natural, tanned coloring, it wasn’t immediately obvious, but he saw it. He knew it was there.
“Owen fixed it,” Kierra said in a sing-song voice.
Quinn dropped her hand and blinked at him. Her hair was up in some sort of messy knot, pieces sticking out every which way. It was kind of cute.
“You...did?” she asked slowly.
“Yeah, you just got some stuff in the connection.” He shrugged and turned back in time to flip the pancakes.
“And he fixed the sink,” Kierra proclaimed.
“You did?” Quinn asked again.
“Oh, you just had a loose screw is all. Chances are, it’s going to happen again. Parts of it are worn down. You could get a replacement faucet for twenty bucks and I could put it in for you, if you like.”
“You did all this today? This morning?” Quinn stopped, facing the sink. She stared at it as if she didn’t know how it worked.
“It’s nothing. A loose screw and a little scrubbing.” He was an unwanted guest, no matter that last night he’d rocked her to sleep and tucked her in after drying her tears.
“Kierra? Go get dressed, please?” Quinn stared at him with a funny expression on her face.
The little girl scampered down the hall without another word.
“I can’t let you do this stuff,” Quinn said quietly.
“It’s just breakfast.” He shrugged.
“No, it’s not.” She braced her hand on the counter and ran her other over her hair.
Owen snagged one of the travel coffee cups from the drain board and poured some of the freshly-brewed liquid into it. He’d learned growing up that it never bode well to have an argument with anyone pre-coffee. Quinn took the cup and sipped as if on auto-pilot. That taken care of, he flipped the pancakes out of the skillet and onto plates ready with butter.
“Owen, you’re ignoring me.”
“No, I’m waiting until you’ve had coffee to have this discussion.” He smiled and offered her a plate. “The dripping was keeping me awake and everyone has to eat. Given how late everyone was awake last night, I figured I’d help out with food.”
“Why are you doing this?” Quinn held the plate in one hand and the coffee in the other.
“Because...I can’t change the world, but I can do my best to make sure a few people’s lives are better. Besides, I’m on suspension, and this,” he gestured at the sink and pancake batter, “gives me something to do.”
“Wait, you’re suspended?” Quinn frowned.
“Yeah.” Owen grimaced.
“What for?”
“It’s a story for another time.”
“Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah.”
“By the way, Kierra asked me what Neverland and Peter Pan meant.”
“Shit...”
“I told her it was something you’d have to explain when you were ready.”
“That’s a good answer. Sorry about that, she can be...”
“Delightful?” Owen chuckled.
“That’s a word for it.” Quinn smiled, some of the light coming back into her eyes. “Shit, the time.”
Owen glanced at Kierra’s uneaten pancakes.
“Want me to take her to school?”
Quinn froze, staring at him, eyes wide.
“I wouldn’t mind, and honestly I’d like to know that she’s safe. Then I can come back and fix that window, unless you want to replace the whole thing?”
“You can do that?” She bit her lip, obviously torn between pushing him out the door and making things easier for herself.
“I think so.” He was pretty good in a pinch. Not a professional, but he could do a lot with a little.
“What are you, some kind of magic, Fix It Felix?” Quinn flashed him a smile.
The world seemed to slow in those seconds as the full impact of those lips hit him right in the chest. He wanted to see her smile again, the light in her eyes glow brighter. He wanted to hear her laugh. Be happy. It was completely irrational, and that’s what he wanted.
“If you’re Fix it Felix, am I Wreck It Ralph?” She shook her head and smiled.
“What’s a Felix?” he asked.
“You clearly don’t watch a lot of kid’s movies.”
“No, afraid I don’t.” He added it to a mental list of to do items.
Quinn upended the cup of coffee, gulping down the rest. She set the cup down and pulled the elastic out of her bun, letting her hair down in long, curling waves. She stared at the ceiling as she ran her fi
ngers through it, her brain whirling so loud he could hear her thinking.
He and Quinn had been at odds with each other since the day they’d met at the princess party. All he’d wanted to do was help, and that put him and Quinn in direct opposition of each other. Would that change, now? Or would Quinn resent him for it?
He hoped she would see them as a team and not opposing forces.
“Okay.” Quinn braced a hand on the counter and stared at him. “I’m...not going to fight with you on this. You want to fix the window? Be my guest. I’ll call the school and let them know you’re dropping her off. I’ve got to get going. We can talk about what I owe you later.”
“You don’t owe me anything.”
“No one does anything for free.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Maybe not, but...we’ll talk about it later.” She turned and padded out of the room on bare feet.
Owen flipped the last of the pancakes, more than a little surprised about Quinn’s change of heart. He’d gotten so used to her stubbornness that this acceptance was strange. Still, it gave him a purpose, for today at least. And later, he’d prove her wrong. He didn’t want anything from Quinn, except to know that she and Kierra were safe. And maybe another one of her smiles.
4.
Quinn pulled into her parking space at Hannae Innovations Co., shifted into park and closed her eyes. She’d grown up playing under the desks at HI-Co since she’d been in diapers. Her mother had started the company out of her father’s garage, then moved it to the basement for more room, slowly building a solid, privately-owned research and development company. Her mother’s work was groundbreaking, revolutionary, and unfinished. Her death had crippled the company, leaving them to limp on without her creative leadership at the helm. They’d lost contracts and people, to the point Quinn didn’t know how they’d survive.
It’d been Quinn’s dream to work here, in her own lab, coming up with the next wave of inventions. The kinds of things that would change the world. Quinn never really had a relationship with her mother until she’d showed the inclination to invent. Then that mother-daughter bond had formed fast and strong.
She’d dreamed about the future, what they’d do together. But not anymore.
Instead of working in the lab, she was a glorified secretary. Business Administrator, technically, but mostly she answered phones, placed orders and kept the books up to date. Leadership of the company had passed to Julia Schaeffer’s research partner, Dr. Karen Fairchild. Following Mom’s death, someone had to take the reins, and Dad hadn’t wanted to make the sacrifice. Quinn had changed her major to business so she could finish in a year, get out, and start working to pay the bills.
Life was funny that way. It took her dreams and hopes, crushed them and created something else.
She’d never get to be the brilliant scientist and inventor her mother was, but Kierra could. If Quinn could keep the company afloat long enough for Kierra to catch the bug. Grow up. She didn’t even have to go to school, not with a mind like hers. They could do courses around work, if that was what Kierra wanted.
That was the future.
She needed to worry about today. Right now.
Quinn sucked down a deep breath and grasped at thin threads of calm.
She could do this.
It was just another day, with her at the helm.
Yeah, right. Ever since word about the grant had come across her desk, the whole company was nothing but turmoil. At least everyone left was up in arms about it.
Once, HI-Co had boasted a dozen different labs, working on twice as many projects. Quinn’s mother had known how to pick things that would pan out, people who could deliver, and she’d known how to keep them. Karen had no such gifts, and Quinn didn’t have operational oversight for what jobs they worked.
HI-Co was down to three labs and five projects, two of which had good prospects for a windfall payday they so dearly needed. If one didn’t pan out, they might have to close up before the end of the year. It wasn’t a secret, either. They’d lost most of the younger staff to better, more promising positions. The people who were left were difficult, and hard to hire. HI-Co was their last hope, too.
Quinn gathered her things and got out of the beat-up, old station wagon. She checked her phone.
Her throat closed up at the sight of Owen’s name.
Last night...
God, she was so embarrassed. How could she have lost it like that? It wasn’t like her.
She closed her eyes, counted to ten and blew out a breath.
The text was a quick note, Kierra was at school, everything was fine.
He was going to talk about last night at some point. She knew it. Owen wanted to talk about everything, and that drove her up a freaking wall. At least this time she would be prepared for it.
Quinn didn’t know what to do about Owen. What he wanted from them. But she couldn’t deny that it was nice to not have to worry about fixing the bathroom window, calling out a plumber, or if the stove was toast.
For today, all she had to worry about was—
“Quinn!”
She skidded to a stop just inside the front doors.
Molly McClain, one of the two darling inventors still on staff, rushed forward. Her red, curling hair had recently been cut off in a bob, but with the humidity, it looked more like a red afro.
Oh, dear...
“Morning, Molly. What’s going on? How was your date?” Quinn kept her voice cheerful, light and breezy. Someone around here had to keep their calm, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be Karen, Molly or Anna Beth. Karen had set Molly up with someone, if word around the water cooler was true. Karen wanted nothing more than to ensure Molly and Anna Beth wound up married and cared for, an odd wish since Karen had never married, but who was Quinn to judge?
“He was awful. The food was disgusting.” Molly recoiled. “What happened to your face?”
“Just an accident with one of Kierra’s toys.” Quinn mustered a self-deprecating chuckle. Just because Molly asked didn’t mean she cared.
“Oh. Well. Tim’s gone.”
“Gone?” Quinn fitted her key into the lock of her office and twisted, while trying to visualize the PTO schedule. “Did he have an appointment—”
“He quit.” Molly held out a piece of paper.
Quinn blinked at it. Her arms were loaded down and the lock was sticking.
“Did he say why?” She could picture Tim—a sweet, thirty-something, shy man. He wasn’t the most Johnny-on-the-spot guy, but he was solid, dependable and thorough. There’d been some business with a previous employer that haunted him, but Quinn had never found issue with his work. Molly could be a tyrant in her lab. Quinn couldn’t fault the man for having enough of that.
“I need someone to take his place. Today.”
“I’ll look into it.” Quinn managed to twist the lock hard enough and bumped the door open with her hip.
“Don’t look into it, handle it. I can’t do two projects, at once, without more hands.” Molly followed Quinn into her office.
She could sympathize with Molly’s needs. The pressure she and Anna Beth were under, it was huge. And yet, much of it was of their making. They were each difficult to work with in their own way and Karen treated both women like her own children. They couldn’t do enough wrong to get sacked, so they ran everyone else off. Hell, if Quinn didn’t have a personal stake in the company, she’d have left already, too. But she didn’t have that luxury.
Like poor Tim.
Quinn would have to give the guy a call, see if she couldn’t fix things, though it was probably moot at this point.
She dumped her things on the overflowing desk and turned back to Molly.
“Give that to me, and I’ll try to work some magic.” Quinn held out her hand.
Molly handed over the paper and left in a huff.
Quinn scanned the note.
Ouch.
He was the kind of person she’d have picked to promote,
if they had the budget. Tim was a make-it-happen, company man. Give him a project, and he’d figure out something. Unfortunately, Karen would give every spare penny to Molly and Anna Beth’s pet projects, no matter that they’d agreed to redistribute some of it to Quinn to compensate for the salary cut she’d agreed to after the last round of layoffs.
Times were tough.
And she couldn’t blame Tim for leaving one bit. From the sound of it, Molly had offloaded much of the battery project to him and then berated him for not making progress.
This was a disaster.
She’d have to talk to Karen about it, though Quinn doubted Karen would hear a word she said. Deep down, Quinn was fairly certain Karen resented Julia Schaeffer for having been the gifted one, for dying, for leaving them all floundering without her. Without Julia there, Quinn was the only one Karen could take that out on. She’d given up trying to figure out what Karen’s problem was and focused on surviving.
For this conversation about Molly and Tim, Quinn would need coffee.
What she wouldn’t give for a ready-poured cup from Owen again.
Instead, she booted up her computer and went in search of the swill they’d gone to in the break room to save a few bucks.
Karen and Anna Beth stood near the window, cups in hand, their heads together.
That was always an expensive warning sign.
Quinn braced herself and headed straight for the coffee pot.
“It’s empty,” Karen said. “Be a dear and make some more?”
Quinn caught sight of Karen’s empty cup.
Seriously?
Had they been waiting here for someone to come make coffee?
Today was so a Monday.
“Anyway, do you want his number? I’d be happy to set you up,” Karen said to Anna Beth.
“Um, I’ll think about it.” Anna Beth edged away from Karen, then turned toward Quinn. About the only person actively interested in Karen’s matchmaking was Molly. “Quinn, did you get the requisition order I put in?”
“Uh, I don’t think I’ve seen it.” Quinn flipped back to Friday in her mind. She’d finished all orders that she could think of.
“I put it in last night.” Anna Beth tapped her toe.
“Ah, well, I haven’t had the chance to check email yet.”
Noble Prince (Twisted Royals, #4) Page 4
