* * *
After the meeting at the bakery, Quinn spent the rest of the dayin her office, working on the plans for the Trumansburg Library expansion andtrying her best not to think about Amanda. Or how badly she’d embarrassedherself when they met. She’d eaten enough donuts to know better. Such a rookiemistake.
Amanda had been gracious, not that she would have expectedanything else. But it was more than that. She had this energy Quinn couldn’tquite put a finger on. An easiness. Or maybe more accurately, Amanda put her atease.
Given her recent track record with women, it was sayingsomething. She’d been on probably twenty dates in the last year, and most ofthem had been first dates. Her sisters, her co-workers, and even her hikingbuddies had attempted to set her up. They were so damn enthusiastic about it,she didn’t have the heart to turn them down.
It wasn’t like the women she went out with were awful. Okay, acouple of them had been awful. But most were nice, successful, attractive. Afew were divorced, like her, but some were still looking. Maybe that was theproblem. Women in their thirties and forties looking to get married didn’t feellike her speed at this point. She’d sort of been there, done that. Which saidnothing of the ones who wanted to have kids. At fifty, any desire to go downthat path was long gone.
Quinn shook her head. It was all a bit more than she couldhandle. Or maybe more accurately, wanted to handle. She could handle all sortsof things, but God, it was exhausting.
“Do you have a minute?” Arti’s head appeared in her doorway.
“Of course.” Hopefully, whatever it was would take her mind offwomen.
“How’d the meeting at the bakery go?”
Amanda immediately popped back into her mind. “Really well. Haveyou been there?”
Arti made her trying to remember something face. “What’s itcalled again?”
“Bake My Day.” Every time she said the name, it made her smile.
“I think so. Kenota, right? Near the wine trail.”
“That’s the one. The cupcakes are to die for. Well, everything isto die for in my opinion.” She grabbed the box from the console behind herdesk. “I’d planned to eat all these myself, but I’ll share.”
Arti eyed the contents of the box. “I don’t think those arepaleo.”
“No, but if cavemen could have eaten them, they would have.”
“What the hell.” She picked up the chocolate one with peanutbutter frosting. “All in moderation, right?”
“Absolutely.” Even if her version of moderation and Arti’s werevastly different.
She thought Arti might take the cupcake back to her office forlater, but she dug right in. “Oh, my God.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad this is your project and not mine. I’d probably gaintwenty pounds over the course of the build.”
Quinn chuckled. “I’m kind of worried for myself.”
“Sugar coma aside, how was it?”
She gave Arti the overview of her meeting with Amanda and thescope of the project. “It’s not earth-shattering, but I think we can make itsomething special.”
Arti licked frosting from her fingers. “These cupcakes deservesomething special.”
The cupcakes had nothing on the woman who made them. “Exactly.”
“Do you need help? I could spare Frida.”
“I think I’m good.” She didn’t add it was because she didn’t wantthe intern lurking around every time she met with Amanda.
“Well, you know where to find her if you change your mind.”
Quinn experienced a pang of guilt. “I mean, I can bring her in ifshe doesn’t have anything else.”
Arti stuffed the last bite of cupcake into her mouth and waved ahand. “No, no. I’d love to have her on the Tompkins Trust job, but I don’t wantto monopolize her time if you could use the help.”
She was probably more relieved than the situation warranted. Itwas her tendency to say yes to things even when she wanted to say no. Shereally needed to get that under control. Next time. “We’re good.”
“Fantastic. I’ll catch you later.”
Arti left and Quinn forced herself to focus. She made goodprogress, even if Amanda hovered at the periphery of her thoughts most of thetime. She called it a day just after five, locking up the office and heading toher little apartment on the west side of town.
Quinn let herself in and sighed. It was a perfectly niceapartment and more than suited her needs. Still, she couldn’t help but feeluninspired every time she walked in the door. Maybe it was time to startlooking for a house in earnest.
She set down her things and wandered to the kitchen. As temptedas she might be to have cupcakes for dinner, she should have something otherthan sugar first. She opened the fridge, only to be greeted with a tub ofhummus, a few beers, and the makings of a rather feeble salad. Talk aboutuninspiring.
Would it be wrong to have takeout again? Thai maybe, which shewouldn’t cook for herself even if she were attempting to cook for herself. Andmore nutritional value than cupcakes.
Satisfied with the rationale, she grabbed her phone. If you haven’t ordered takeoutyet, come over for dinner.
She chuckled at the accuracy of the invitation. Her sister knewher too well. What are wehaving?
Shrimptacos.
Hard to turn that down. I’llbe there in 20.
Fab. Bringwine.
She grabbed her keys and headed back to her car. Too bad shehadn’t thought to get enough cupcakes to bring over. Next time. She’d bespending quite a lot of time at the bakery, so that wouldn’t be a problem.
She pulled into Kiera’s driveway a few minutes later. Before shecould grab the Sauvignon Blanc from the passenger seat, the door opened andGrace came running down the walk. She got out of her car just in time for Graceto launch herself into her arms. Quinn embraced her, her day suddenly ten timesbetter. “Hello, gorgeous.”
“Beauty is a social construct.”
She didn’t disagree, but hearing the assertion from asix-year-old had her biting back a smile. “You’re right. How are you, Grace?”
“I’m good. I couldn’t tie my shoelaces, but now I can because Ipersisted.”
“Persistence is a very good trait to have.” She carried her nieceup the walk and into the house. “You can
