“Maybe she won’t get back to you,” Griff said. She could be much more of a realist than Quinn. “Maybe it will just fizzle out before it has the chance to go anywhere.”
“Maybe.” That would certainly make Quinn very sad, but perhaps it would be for the best. “I still have to finish her portrait.”
“How many more hours of work?”
“A day or two, if I can focus.” Quinn forced herself to smile. She’d just had an amazing night and she refused to be down about it one minute longer.
“Get it over with then. So you can move on. I’ll even go to Marnie’s with you this weekend, if you want.”
Quinn feigned utter surprise, letting her mouth fall open theatrically. “No. Fucking. Way!”
“Only if you need a wingwoman.”
“Wouldn’t it be great to meet Beth Robbins in the flesh one day, though? She’s a real workaholic, apparently. She’d barely given birth before she went back to work.”
“You don’t have to tell me how cutthroat the news business is,” Griff mused.
“That’s why you’re sitting on your ass in the middle of the day, drooling over hot news anchors.”
“It’s important to be informed, Quinn,” Griff stated drily.
“It sure is.” Quinn leaned her head in the direction of her friend. Thank goodness for Griff. She had always tried to talk some sense into Quinn, although she rarely succeeded. When it came to all things love, Quinn was very tunnel-visioned. And once she had her sights set on someone, it was hard to have her even glance in a different direction.
But Quinn was also burned out by a long-term relationship that had gone nowhere, in which she’d had very little agency, and that had wounded her with all its hard-edged broken promises. Maybe she should just take things easy for a while. Stay home and follow the news with Griff. They’d have to change the channel, though.
Chapter 27
Maya had managed to avoid Angus since Quinn had left on Wednesday. She wanted to talk to him about her. He was still the only person she could confide in about something like that, but she wasn’t ready for the myriad of questions he would undoubtedly fire at her. He might well try to convince her that she should go on a date with Quinn, whereas Maya was putting all her energy into telling herself it was the worst idea ever.
“Have some fun,” Angus would say. And Maya wasn’t opposed to fun, especially not the kind of fun she and Quinn had had all of Tuesday night, but to what end? And at what cost? Fun like that didn’t come cheap to a woman like Maya. She was fifty-five years old. She hadn’t moved to the city to ‘sow her wild oats’ the way Quinn had put it. She had come here to date women like Beverly with the ultimate goal of finding someone to spend the rest of her life with.
Even though her attraction to Beverly wasn’t comparable to how Maya felt when Quinn even so much as glanced at her, she knew she had to give Beverly another chance. She knew, deep down, that if she wanted to ever reach that goal of finding love, she should keep her date with Beverly and say no to Quinn’s proposal of a night out on the town, although Maya was dying to know what Quinn had in store for her. But this was the time for reason, not for emotional foolishness. Therefore this was also the time to avoid Angus at all costs. Because Maya also knew that it wouldn’t take much convincing to choose going out with Quinn over Beverly. That’s why it was important to keep herself out of every situation where she could be convinced to let her emotions overrule her rationality.
She would snap out of the haze of bliss Quinn had left her in soon enough. All it would take, most likely, was spending some time with her family. That should plant her feet firmly back on sensible ground.
Tomorrow, she would be ready to see Beverly again. Her night with Quinn would have started to fade into the background, and Maya would be sitting opposite a woman who was, at the very least, appropriate for her. At her age, those things were increasingly important.
Maya reached for her phone and texted Beverly, telling her how much she was looking forward to their upcoming date. Then she invited herself to dinner at her son and daughter-in-law’s so she could be reminded of what was most important in her life. Five seconds with Ethan in her arms would surely be enough to do the trick—and to banish those pangs of heat that coursed through her at the most inopportune times whenever she let her mind wander and it, inevitably, presented her with an image of Quinn in all her naked glory.
“Maya?” Beverly asked. “Do you want white or red wine?”
“Oh.” Maya had been lost in thought again, foolishly cataloging all the traits that made Beverly objectively attractive. As though that was an exercise that could ever yield a result. “White, please. Sorry. I was distracted.”
“I’d like to think your mind was already venturing past dinner.” Beverly was laying on the innuendo much thicker compared to their previous date. Maya figured it was their texts that had created a sense of familiarity for Beverly that Maya didn’t yet feel.
Maya offered a smile that she tried very hard to
