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More Than This Page 16
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“Don’t let one date—one more bad date—ruin your summer. There are millions of guys looking for a great woman like you.”
Quinn pulled another cookie off the cooling rack and broke it into pieces.
“Why don’t you go out with Ryan? He seems like a good guy.”
“He is. We’re friends. I don’t want to risk the friendship. I can’t imagine starting something with him and ending it in August. He’s not looking to be a dad. I really want to be a mom. We fought about it today.”
Indy picked up her cup of tea. “Let’s go find a chick flick on TV and wallow in tears for the rest of the night. Tomorrow has to look better.”
Ryan entered his bar looking for escape. He’d spent the weekend mostly alone, except for a brief visit with his mom where she spoke of nothing but Colin. After that, he was more than happy to seek solitude.
Until he found it.
Then he thought of Quinn working her way down her list. The thought adequately ruined the rest of his weekend.
New week. New perspective. No Quinn.
Mary sat at the bar with a cup of coffee at her elbow and papers in her hand. She swiveled the stool to face him. “Good. You’re here. I need to talk about setup for tomorrow night. Speed dating.”
“I remember,” he grumbled. He also remembered the reason he’d had Mary plan the event.
“Grab a seat.” She spread a couple of sheets out on the bar where he sat. “I think everyone will fit comfortably if we take over the dance area. It will shut that section down for a few hours, but it’s the best area for traffic flow.”
Ryan inspected the sketches. “Whatever you think. You’re the expert.” He stood to go to his office and noticed the clipboard with blue and pink sheets. He pointed. “Participant list?”
“Yeah, I asked Nate to type it up. He thought it would be cute to use blue for the men and pink for the ladies.”
Ryan picked up the clipboard and read down the pink sheet. It was alphabetized, but he still read it twice. No Quinn.
“Looking for someone?”
“Yeah, I thought my friend Quinn would’ve signed up. She was here on Friday.”
“She did. I took her registration myself.” She took the clipboard back and went down the list.
“I know how to read, Mary. There’s no Quinn Adams on the list.” Part of him was relieved he wouldn’t have to worry about her finding someone. Despite the fact that she’d turned him down, he wasn’t done with her. Another part of him was irritated because he’d spent hours lining up men who were totally wrong for Quinn. He let Mary do some of the advertising; he’d feel bad if the whole event was a flop because of his sabotage.
Mary flipped the page up. “Oh, Christ. I’m going to kill him.”
Ryan peered over her shoulder and saw Quinn’s name typed in at the top of the blue sheet. He chuckled. “To be fair, Quinn can be a man’s name. It’s no big deal. Just move her over to the right list.”
“It is a big deal. I thought I had exactly fifteen men and fifteen women. Now I have sixteen women, but only fourteen men. I need to come up with two more available men before tomorrow, and I need to figure out where to squeeze in an extra table.”
Ryan touched her shoulder. “Breathe. It’s not a big deal. Shit happens. Maybe someone won’t show and it’ll even out.”
Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “You’re right. I’ll send out e-mail confirmations to the list and see where I am. I want this to be a success.” She reclaimed her seat and opened her laptop.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He moved toward the back.
“Hey, can I use you as a fill-in if I need to?”
“Hell no.”
She laughed. “Why not? You’re unattached. If you’re a participant, Quinn would be forced to talk to you for a full three minutes.” She turned back to the computer with a knowing smile.
He hated she saw right through him. Mary was like the big sister he never had. Or wanted. He had enough sibling issues.
The thought barely left his head when the back door swung open, flooding the dark hallway with sunlight. Colin strode in whistling an obnoxiously happy tune.
“Hi, boss. How are you this fine morning?” he asked with a fake brogue.
“Can the leprechaun shit. What are you doing here?” Ryan opened his office door and walked in, expecting Colin to follow.
“Mary called me in for some extra hours. She needs tables pulled from storage and cleaned.”
Ryan tossed his keys on the desk. “Fine. Get to work. Mary’s at the bar.”
“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What’s her name?”
Ryan turned back. Colin leaned against the door frame, relaxed and waiting for gossip. “Who?”
“Whoever has you so twisted up you’re snapping at me.”
“No one. There’s no one.”
Colin straightened. “Maybe that’s the problem.” He walked away and his whistled tune echoed in the empty hall.
Colin was right. He had to work out the funk he was in.
He didn’t know where to start. He wasn’t ready for the whole family thing Quinn wanted. They hadn’t even had sex. How was he supposed to think about the future? But he wanted her.
He remembered her leg curling around his. Her tongue tangling with his. Her scent. His dick twitched at the memory.
Indy had told him to make Quinn choose him. He’d done the opposite. He had to fix that.
He went to his Rolodex and looked for the florist’s number. Daisies made her happy before. He’d try his luck again.
Quinn checked her e-mail, searching for the next horrible date. One caught her eye. The sender was O’Leary’s. Her heart jumped.
She clicked the message.
Hi. This is a friendly reminder you are registered to participate in our first ever Speed Dating event tomorrow, Tuesday, June 25. Please respond to this e-mail to confirm you will attend and whether you will bring a friend.
Quinn’s cursor hovered over the Reply button. She’d forgotten she signed up. It was right before she fought with Ryan. Her eyes wandered over the text again. “First ever” jumped out at her. He’d done it again. Ryan maneuvered himself into a position to help her complete her list. She didn’t know if she should be pissed or grateful.
She clicked Reply and typed, “I’ll be there with a friend.” Indy would have to go with her. Knowing Indy, she’d have a date lined up before anyone else. It would do her good.
Quinn finished her cup of coffee and dressed in a simple yellow sundress. She packed makeup in her purse and brushed her hair one more time. Her stomach flipped every time she thought about the appointment.
She hadn’t thought Xander would have an opening so soon. It made sense, since Mondays are not big for weddings. Luckily, Indy was free and would meet her at the studio.
Sliding her feet into white canvas sneakers, she checked her reflection in the mirror. What does it matter what I look like now? All of this is coming off. She shook her head and left, hoping it wasn’t too humid out. She didn’t want to drive such a short distance, but she didn’t want sweaty, glistening skin either.
The air outside was warm, but not stifling. The sun on her face was hot. Her sunglasses shaded her eyes, and a slight breeze tossed her bangs. A gorgeous day to walk.
Her shoes slapped the cracked concrete, and Quinn thought of anything except where she was going. She thought of Indy and Richard. She’d only met the man once. He was stuffy and rigid. Even more than me. He wasn’t right for Indy. He’d never accept all parts of her. She needed stability, someone she could count on, but also someone who could enjoy and appreciate the spontaneity that kept her going.
Quinn didn’t see Richard fulfilling the role. Their father would have a stroke if he found out Indy was dating a married man. Disloyalty and betrayal were unforgivable in his eyes. Almost divorced was still married. Maybe that’s why she chose Richard.
She turned the corner and stood in front of Hill Studio. She
saw no sign of Indy or her car. She checked her cell phone. No messages, but she was five minutes early.
The minutes ticked by with her feet tapping the pavement. She dialed Indy’s number. No answer. She bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to be late and have Xander think she was blowing him off. She texted Indy that she should come right up. Hopefully, she hadn’t forgotten about this.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the doorbell and waited for admittance. No intercom crackled. The door buzzed and she walked in. A blast of cool air skimmed over her. She walked up the flight of stairs. Before she could prepare herself, the door opened.
“Hi,” Cindy said. “Come on in. We’re almost ready for you.”
Quinn followed the bouncy girl. The spiky tips of her hair were purple today, and Quinn saw a few piercings she hadn’t noticed on their last meeting.
The loft had been reconfigured. Tall bamboo screens broke up the airy, open space. Privacy in case someone else came in?
“Would you like something to drink?”
Quinn returned her gaze to Cindy. “No, thanks. But my sister is supposed to meet me here. She’s running late.” As usual.
“No problem. I’ll be around to let her in so you won’t be interrupted.”
“Hello, Ms. Adams,” Xander said behind her.
She turned around. He stood in a small space between two screens. He wore low-slung jeans and a painted-on white tank. He held a camera at chest height and fondled the buttons.
“Hi.” She froze in place, not knowing what to do or say.
He shifted his body and tilted his head. “Ready to get started?”
She nodded and followed him. Her toes curled tightly inside her canvas shoes and she clutched her purse. Behind the screens, a platform stood, looking like a bed covered with a blue sheet and scattered with colorful pillows. Only the pointed corners revealed it wasn’t a mattress.
“Do you have a specific pose or look you want?” he asked as he busied himself setting up lights and umbrellas.
Quinn shook her head and realized he wasn’t looking at her. “No, I figured you would tell me what to do.”
“That’s fine. Have a seat while I finish this.” He gestured to the platform.
She stepped on a stool and sat on the hard box. She sat still, afraid the sheet would slide and ruin his setup. Her stomach threatened to heave and she toyed with the strap of her purse in an attempt to calm herself.
Xander suddenly looked up as if feeling her tension. “Relax. This won’t hurt.” He held her gaze for an extra moment. The automatic smile from his lips eased its way up to his eyes.
Her fingers fidgeted with her purse. “I brought makeup because I didn’t know how much to apply with the lights and stuff.”
He continued to watch her as he adjusted the height of a tripod. “A client who thinks ahead. Always good. In general, a little heavier than normal shows up best. Unless you want a more dramatic look.” He paused, studying her face. “You strike me as more natural.”
She nodded. “Do you have someplace I can put my makeup on?”
“If you want, Cindy can do it for you.”
Her eyebrows shot up in question.
“She’s good. Her mom’s a cosmetologist. Cindy changes her look weekly, but she knows what suits people.”
Quinn shrugged. “Why not?” Cindy’s hands were bound to be steadier than her own.
Cindy came around the edge of the screen. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Quinn dumped her purse out beside her.
Cindy picked through and turned to Quinn. She held Quinn’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilted it up. “You have great skin. He won’t need to airbrush you, that’s for sure.”
Quinn blinked. “Airbrush?”
“You know, digitally erase. He can make anyone look darn near perfect.”
“I thought airbrushing was for celebrities in magazines.”
“Uh-uh. Anyone can have it. Cellulite? No more. Stretch marks? Not in our photos.”
“Huh.” She hadn’t thought of that. Maybe Xander’s portfolio was so good because it was fake.
Cindy dusted Quinn’s face with a light coating of powder foundation. Quinn closed her eyes and said a mental prayer she wouldn’t end up looking like a clown.
“Open your eyes,” Cindy said. She stood, poised with eyeliner. “Are you going to freak when I come at your eyes with this? It’ll totally ruin it if your eyes flutter and tear up. If that’s gonna happen, you should do it yourself.”
“I’m fine. Go ahead.” Anything was better than thinking about getting naked. She didn’t know where Xander went. He hadn’t spoken since he’d invited Cindy in. She heard movement and assumed he was still rearranging equipment.
The doorbell hadn’t rung yet. Indy must’ve forgotten the appointment. At least she wasn’t alone. Cindy had said she’d be there.
“All done.” Cindy scooped up the makeup and dumped it back into Quinn’s purse.
“Do you have a mirror?”
Cindy pointed next to Quinn’s thigh. A large, square, purple-handled mirror stared up at her. She lifted it and studied her face.
“Wow. You’re good.” The makeup gave her a natural, polished look.
Cindy blushed at the compliment. “Thanks. I’m going to move your purse over to the chair. You can go to the bathroom to undress and put on one of the robes there. Unless you’re cool with walking through the studio in your birthday suit.”
It was Quinn’s turn to blush.
She pointed to the corner of the room. “The robes are washed after every client.”
Quinn stood stiffly and forced her legs to carry her to the bathroom. Her antiperspirant was suddenly failing her. Her armpits felt moist even in the air-conditioning.
She shucked the dress and toed off her shoes. She took some toilet paper and dabbed her underarms. Taking a pink robe from a hook, she hung her dress in its place. The robe was lightweight cotton and landed mid-thigh. Modest enough. She shimmied out of her panties and hung them on the hook underneath her dress.
Tightening the belt on the robe, she stared into her own eyes in the mirror. You can do this.
She opened the bathroom door and padded quietly across the room with her head down. Her silent pep talk did nothing for her nerves. She stood next to the platform and waited for direction from Xander.
He looked up from the camera. “Ready?”
“As I’m gonna get,” she whispered. She undid the sash from the robe and exhaled.
“Stop right there.”
She snapped her head up at the immediate command. The robe parted only four inches. Four inches of bare, exposed Quinn.
“Sorry. I tend to snap when I see a good shot. Open the robe slowly and let it slide down your shoulders and drop to the floor.”
She stared at him and followed his direction, hearing the whir of the shutter on his camera.
“Lie down on the platform. Sorry it’s not a real bed. A mattress sags and contours and ruins things.”
She lay down on her side and felt her boobs hang sloppily. They weren’t huge or anything, but they weren’t meant to hang sideways. She shifted and tried to make them stand up and look better—perkier. She spoke silently to her stomach, begging it not to hurl as Xander continued with his barrage of directions: tilt your chin up, look this way, look down, smile, show me teeth. She painfully followed every instruction.
Every inch of her was exposed. She’d never been naked in front of a man she wasn’t intimate with. And this was so . . . intimate.
After what seemed like hours, Xander blew out a heavy breath. “I think we need a break.”
Quinn glanced at her watch. It had only been twenty minutes. “Is there a problem?”
“You’re not comfortable, and it’s coming across in the shots.”
“It’s that bad?”
“I’ll let you be the judge. If you relax a little, we can try again.”
She shook her head. She didn’t know how t
o relax that much. “I’ll go change.”
She draped the robe over the toilet tank, so they would remember which one she wore. She slid into her dress and panties. She carried her shoes back into the studio with her to put on while Xander talked to her.
She took the seat near his desk as he worked on the computer. She tugged her shoes back in place. “Can you show them to me?”
“I’ll have your photos up in a minute. Before we look at them, though, I want you to be prepared. I don’t have a real good feeling about these. You were stiff and uncomfortable. I’d say you even looked scared. We might need to try again when you’re more comfortable with the idea.”
She nodded. How bad could they be? The list didn’t say she had to have good pictures. She just had to pose. She posed. Xander clicked the mouse a couple of times and turned the monitor to face Quinn.
The slideshow flipped by on screen in slow motion. They were horrible. Worse than horrible. Her eyes filled. She didn’t look uncomfortable. She looked constipated. This couldn’t be worse. She stood abruptly and grabbed her purse. “Thank you for trying. I appreciate the effort. Send me the bill for your time.”
She turned and ran for the door. As she bounded down the stairs, she heard Xander call her name. Her embarrassment wouldn’t allow her to turn back. By the time she hit the street, tears spilled down her cheeks. Her stride ate up the sidewalk on the way back to her loft. Her phone rang. Indy. She was glad she hadn’t shown. She didn’t need another human being to witness this. She worked to steady her voice. “Hi.”
“Hey. I tried calling after I got your text, but it went straight to voice mail. I was running late. Where are you?”
“It didn’t work out. You can go home. Thanks.”
“Are you okay? You want me to come over?”
Another deep, steadying breath. “No, I want to be alone.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She closed her phone and turned the corner to face her building. She lost her wish to be alone as well as her battle for control over her tears.