More Than This

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More Than This Page 15

by Shannyn Schroeder


  She strode into the bar and peered around. The dark, quiet interior was a blessing after the blazing sun. She removed her sunglasses and looked for Ryan. A small blonde whisked through the bar, attending to customers as she went.

  Quinn approached her. “Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt, but can you tell me if Ryan is here?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the basement doing inventory.”

  Quinn waited a painful moment.

  “I’ll call down and ask him to come up. What’s your name?”

  “Quinn.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Quinn, I’m Mary, bar manager.”

  “Ryan’s told me a lot about how good you are.” She followed Mary to the bar.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  Quinn shrugged.

  “Are you single?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh. In that case, we’re having a speed dating night here next Tuesday.” Mary whipped out a flyer with attached registration form. “You’d be doing me a great favor if you’d sign up. I’m already full of guys. I need to add to my roster of women.”

  “Ryan mentioned this. I’ve never done speed dating.”

  “I have to make this a success. I told Ryan it would be.”

  Quinn read the flyer. How bad could it be? “Okay.”

  While she filled out the registration, Mary used the phone. Quinn couldn’t hear the conversation, but Mary didn’t look happy.

  She turned to Quinn, still holding the phone. “He says now is not a good time. He’s busy with inventory.”

  “Please. This is important.”

  Mary spoke the message into the phone. She hung up and told Quinn, “He said you can come down if you want to talk.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. Here.” She thrust the completed form and twenty dollars back at Mary.

  Mary paused, tilting her head in appraisal of Quinn. “There’s something familiar about you.”

  “I come here with the other teachers from Jones High School on Friday afternoons.”

  “That’s probably it. Thanks for signing up. We’ll be sending out e-mail reminders the day before.” She walked Quinn down the hall past Ryan’s office and the bathrooms to a door adjacent to the rear exit. “Right down those stairs. You can’t miss him. He’s the moody guy counting bottles.”

  “Thanks again.” Quinn opened the door and took a brief moment to relax her fluttering stomach. She descended the stairs and faced rows of boxes. Ryan stood with a clipboard in hand.

  “Hi.”

  He barely looked up from the paper. “What do you want, Quinn? I’m busy.”

  Okay, so he was pissed. “First, I wanted to thank you for bringing me home last night.”

  “I told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “The thing is . . . I don’t remember everything.”

  “Tends to happen when you get drunk.”

  “I know. I didn’t plan on getting drunk, but I did.” She huffed out a breath. “Look, I need to know if we slept together last night.”

  He placed his clipboard on top of the nearest box. “You don’t remember?”

  She stared at her feet and shook her head.

  “We almost did in the elevator, but you called it off.”

  She raised her head to find him standing with his arms crossed. Is that why he was mad? “I remember that part, but I woke up naked and I don’t remember how I got to bed.”

  He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “So you think after you told me to stop, I forced myself on you? I told you a long time ago, I don’t go where I’m not invited.”

  Her hand flew to her heart. “No. God no. I never thought that for even a second. I thought maybe we continued what we started in the elevator.”

  “We didn’t. You said no. I respected you.”

  “I wanted to, it was just . . .”

  “I know. You didn’t want to risk getting pregnant by me.”

  “Why are you so angry?”

  His eyes shone with anger and the muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you’d rather have some tool knock you up than take your chances with me.”

  She pointed between the two of them. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to take my chances. I value your friendship.” Her voice grew louder as she spoke, but she couldn’t prevent it. The volume increased the throbbing of her brain.

  “I care about you and respect you. Somehow that’s a bad thing.” He was inches from her and she felt his anger vibrating in the air around him. It spurred her own anger.

  The words flew uncensored and her arms circled in gesture as she spoke. “If you were backed into a corner, it would all change. You’re not the kind of guy who could father a child and forget it. You can’t even walk away from your family, and they’re grown. Even if we never saw each other again, you would want to be a part of the child’s life. You’d feel trapped. So I’d lose a good friend and you’d be saddled with a kid you didn’t want. Another burden in your life. I’d say I saved us both a bunch of heartache.”

  She’d hit the mark. They stared at each other for a minute, breathing heavily. “My intention is not to go and have sex with a random guy to get pregnant. I know I tend to attract assholes. I plan to do artificial insemination so I can pick a good genetic donor. I’m not picking a father. I’m picking sperm.”

  “Pretty pessimistic.” His fight left. He reached for her arm.

  She pulled farther away. “It’s realistic. I don’t have high hopes for a husband.” She felt tears welling in her eyes. She turned to head back up the stairs. She’d gotten the information she wanted and then some. He didn’t try to stop her from leaving.

  At the top of the stairs, she gathered herself and blinked a few times to push back the tears. She opened the door and walked through with her back straight. As she entered the bar, a few patrons looked at her. She had the sinking feeling they heard her yelling at Ryan. She continued on, trying not to draw more attention to herself by running out. Mary looked at her, eyes wide. Quinn simply nodded and pushed the door open to the heat and glaring summer sun.

  On her way to the car, Quinn berated herself for the entire episode. Hadn’t Indy always told her men and women couldn’t be friends? One or the other always wanted something more. Such a load of crap. Why couldn’t she find a guy who wanted what she wanted in life? Was there something wrong with marriage and family?

  Or maybe it was her.

  She unlocked the car door and sat behind the wheel. They don’t know what they’re missing. I’m going to finish this damn list, and I’m going to have a baby.

  Who needed Ryan’s help anyway? On her drive home, she created her plan of attack. She had use of the dating Web site, so she’d utilize it. She’d start making dates immediately and see what clicked.

  She’d also call Xander Hill and make an appointment. She still had to sing karaoke. Next time she wouldn’t make the mistake of going with Indy or drinking. She needed to find a different bar, though.

  Her cell phone rang as she entered her building. She eyed the elevator and remembered making out with Ryan. She opted for the stairs and allowed the phone to go to voice mail.

  The blast of cool air from her loft washed over her. Her anger simmered into determination. She sat at her laptop and navigated to the dating site. While the site loaded her profile, she checked her voice mail.

  Brian’s voice said, “Don’t answer your house phone. Call me.”

  Weird. She dialed his number. “Hey, Brian. What’s up?”

  “Before I tell you anything, promise me you won’t answer your phone for school because you’re on vacation.”

  “That doesn’t sound too good.”

  “Promise or I won’t tell you.”

  “You sound like a kid. Fine.” She leaned back in her chair and waited.

  “Ackerman is making noise about quitting summer school.”

  “What?” Quinn shot out of her chair. “She can’t do that.”

  “She claims she’s never taught s
uch a difficult group of kids. They don’t want to learn.”

  Quinn’s eyes rolled. “Who the hell did she think she was getting? These kids failed English during the year. Most of them weren’t interested the first time around and they’re even less so now. It’s summer, for Pete’s sake. No one wants to be in a hot building instead of at the lake.”

  Brian’s laugh broke her rant.

  “What is so funny?”

  “Nothing. I’m glad you’re pissed off. Maybe you won’t rush in to rescue her.”

  “Rescue her?”

  “We both know if she calls you for help, you’ll do it. Before you know it, you’ll be in the class teaching it for her.”

  “I would not.” It was a lie. Brian was nice enough not to call her on it. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll avoid my phone.”

  “No problem. Talk to you soon.”

  “Bye.” She hung up and went back to her computer profile. She’d ramp it up and find new guys to date. She could plan dates for every night of the week. Her phone rang as she typed. She paused and listened for the machine to pick up.

  “Hi, Quinn. It’s Mr. Carlson. I hoped you could stop in one day this week and talk with Shari Ackerman about summer school. She’s having some difficulties, and since you’ve always taught the class, I thought you might be able to talk her through it. Thanks.”

  Brian was good. He always knew the gossip before anyone else. Quinn had no urge to talk about work. Instead, she focused on finding someone to love for the summer.

  CHAPTER 11

  Hours later, Ryan’s neck was cramped and his eyes bleary. He stretched at his desk and rolled his head from side to side. The bar had quieted, as it did every day after lunch and before dinner. He headed to the bar to check with Mary before going to Twilight. He had another few hours of inventory there. Twilight wasn’t open until evening, though, so he’d have no interruptions.

  To his surprise, Colin was there, but he stood behind the bar, drying glasses. Ryan didn’t comment. If his brother wanted to dry glasses, why should he care?

  The tables were clean and empty. A few regulars sat at the bar, nursing an afternoon beer while they watched sports on TV. The old guys often reminded him of his father. Even though he’d handed the daily operation of the bar over to Ryan, Dad still sat at the bar every day, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

  Mary walked by. “Hey, boss. We’re looking good for Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday?”

  She shook her head at him. “Speed dating.”

  “Oh, yeah. Good. I’m going to Twilight. I don’t know if I’ll be back.”

  “Okay.” She turned to walk away.

  Ryan touched her arm and lowered his voice. “Colin can occupy himself doing whatever you need him for, but I don’t want him at the register.”

  Her eyebrows raised a fraction at the request, but she nodded. He felt a little crappy for saying it out loud, but if he learned anything from his father’s mistakes, it was to never underestimate Colin.

  He turned back to the bar. On his way out, he stopped between the old timers. “How are you guys doing?” he asked, patting them each on the back.

  “Hiding from our wives, like we do every day.”

  “It’s not hiding if they know where to find you.”

  The men chuckled and returned their attention to the TV. Ryan’s gaze followed theirs. The Cubs were playing.

  The Cubs reminded him of Quinn and the fight they’d had earlier. He didn’t even know why he was so mad. She was right. He didn’t want to be a father. At least not right now. He was stupid for saying he’d take his chances. Thinking with his dick usually led to stupidity.

  He’d been mean and even a little cruel, but she needed to hear it. Ryan turned from the TV and walked out the door. He’d stay away from Quinn. Give her time to cool off. Then he’d try talking to her again.

  Space might do them both some good.

  Quinn stomped into her loft and threw her purse at the couch. A scream of frustration clawed at her throat, but she refused its escape.

  She’d thought it was serendipitous that within an hour of posting her improved profile, a man contacted her. His profile said he was a lawyer, never married, and liked outdoor summer sports. Nowhere did it mention liking kink.

  The memories made the burn of embarrassment return to her skin.

  If she were Indy, she would’ve had a smart-ass comment to throw at him, but she’d had nothing. She was so flustered, she barely remembered to grab her purse before storming out.

  She sank down on the couch, her rolling emotions taking their toll. Two minutes of self-pity. I’m allowed that.

  When the two minutes were up, Quinn changed into a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt. She went to the kitchen to bake.

  The smell of chocolate would comfort her. The mixing of ingredients gave her time to think and reevaluate.

  The first pans went into the oven and the doorbell called Quinn’s attention. She went to the intercom. “Yes.”

  “It’s me,” Indy said.

  Quinn pressed the buzzer and turned the knob on the door. She went back to the kitchen to prep the next pan of cookies.

  Indy closed the door with a slight thud. “Mmm. I smell chocolate. Someone’s having a bad day.”

  Quinn peered at her sister from the kitchen counter. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  Indy moved through the living room, pausing only to take off her navy pumps. She wore a matching business suit with a deep-cut white blouse. Indy looked sexy in everything. She slid onto a stool on the opposite side of the counter. “Ooo . . . you just started,” she said, eying the bowl of dough. “Let me go change.”

  Quinn waited while Indy went upstairs to borrow clothes. If Indy wanted to join her in baking cookies, she was having a crappy day too.

  Indy returned wearing clothes similar to what Quinn wore. The T-shirt was a little too tight and the shorts a little too short, but Indy seemed to be comfortable. She walked barefoot into the kitchen and stood beside Quinn. “I haven’t had Comfort Cookies in ages.”

  “That’s because you don’t like to bake.”

  Indy nudged her with her elbow. “Not true. I’m not as good as you. Yours are better than Mom’s.”

  Quinn blushed at the compliment. Mom’s cookies were what saved every childhood disaster. “I looked everywhere for the recipe after she died. I couldn’t find it. I re-created what I could from memory. These aren’t necessarily better. They’re different. I can’t figure out what these are missing.”

  Indy laughed. “There isn’t a recipe. Don’t you remember? Mom made it up as she went along. No two batches were ever the same.” She dipped her finger into the bowl and licked it.

  “She had a recipe. I remember a few times she tried to mix in other stuff. But I don’t remember them being different every time. They were always good.”

  “Not always.” Indy scooped up more dough. “There’s something to be said for consistency. Yours are better.”

  “Thanks.” A smile tugged at Quinn’s lips and she was glad Indy came by.

  The timer dinged for the first batch of cookies. While they cooled, Indy made a pot of tea. She’d turned on the radio for quiet background music as she worked in the kitchen. Quinn briefly wondered if Indy knew she was channeling their mother. In Mom’s world, Comfort Cookies were only served with tea and music to soothe their souls.

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn asked. Indy never moved into the comfort of home mode unless something troubled her. Her own free spirit tended to fix itself.

  “Richard wants to take a break. He still wants to keep our relationship a secret from his wife. Every time they have a deal on the table for the divorce, she comes up with something else to add. He thinks if she knows about me, she’ll drag her feet even more.”

  Quinn eased onto a stool and patted the one next to her. Indy took it and exchanged a cup of tea for a handful of warm, gooey cookies.

  “I know you don’t agree w
ith our whole relationship. I have a good time with him. Until last night. I didn’t want to bring it up and ruin your evening, but I guess I did anyway. I told him if he thought I would sit around and wait on him, he’d better think again.”

  “Good for you.”

  Indy shook her head. “We both know I lied. I like the simplicity of our relationship. No strings, no worries. Even my chances with Griffin were ruined after last night. You didn’t see the way he looked at me. With the same disgust I get from Dad.”

  “That’s not true. You should forget Richard. You can have any man you set your sights on. I can show you the finer points of Internet dating,” Quinn said sarcastically. “We can share stories of misery. I had my worst one so far earlier today.”

  Quinn walked around the counter and pulled cookie sheets from the oven. She checked the raw dough remaining in the bowl and decided Indy would probably finish it.

  “You had a date tonight? It’s only eight now. How early did you go out?”

  Quinn returned to her sister’s side. “I was pissed because Ryan and I had a fight, so I came home and redid my online profile. Within an hour I got a message. This guy Ken and I chatted for a while online and agreed to meet for coffee.”

  “What did you fight with Ryan about?” Indy stuck her finger in the dough for another bite.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t go on a date looking like that.” Indy eyed the shorts and T-shirt.

  “No, I changed into this when I got home. Anyway, I met him at a coffee shop. We kind of hit it off. I mean, it wasn’t love at first sight or anything, but there was chemistry.”

  “So how did he end up at the top of the list ahead of the lizard kisser?”

  “Because while we were talking, this woman showed up and sat next to Ken. He introduced her as his girlfriend, Candy. They were hoping I would join them for a night in a hotel room.”

  Indy rolled her upper lip in and bit it.

  “Go ahead and laugh. I’m over it.”

  Indy let the laugh out. “Where do you meet these guys? Sleaze.com?”

  “No, it’s a reputable dating site. I don’t know where he came from. The whole thing definitely whittled away my resolve for finding romance soon. This afternoon I was willing to set up dates every night for the next two weeks. Now I’m rethinking.”

 

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