Ginny watched them go, waiting until the room cleared to move forward. “Lyle?”
“Yes.”
“Have that glass thing removed.” She pointed to the awful desk. “I’d like a real desk in here. Something large, wood, and with loads of drawers.” She adored organization. “And I don’t want to ever see that couch again.”
“I’ll have new furniture delivered before you arrive in the morning.” He jotted down notes as she spoke.
“Chloe?”
“Yes?”
“Set up thirty-minute appointments with the head of every department for tomorrow. Make sure they understand that they have half an hour to impress me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Ginny pinched her lips. She wasn’t happy with being calledma’am.Ma’amwas for her stepmother. She spun on Lyle. “Lastly …”
“Yes?” He was unfazed, collected even in the chaos of a changing of the guard.
“Find the painting of my father that used to hang here and have it put up behind Alice’s desk. Daddy built this company, and his portrait deserves to be in a place where it reminds people of the great man he was in this life.”
“Will do.” He headed for the door.
Virginia turned to the window and clasped her hands behind her back to hide the shaking. To the casual observer, she was calm and in control of the situation. Inside, she was a steaming pile of question marks, unsure if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life or the best decision ever. There would be repercussions with Jillian, though she wasn’t sure where the woman would come at her—personally or professionally. Perhaps both, depending on how devious she truly was.
Ginny stared at her reflection in the glass, and it was like looking at a stranger. Where was the woman who wore her hair down and rocked babies to sleep? For so long, she had been two different people: the corporate exec when she was with her father, and the middle-class teen when she had to keep her mom’s life together. As a child, it was confusing how she could go from being one person to someone else depending on who she was with at the time. Like riding both sides of a teeter-totter and trying to keep balance. As she grew older, she’d adapted. Being on her own, she had come to a happy medium.
Now she was on one side of the teeter-totter, holding it down, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
Chapter Fourteen
Quinn
Soft music and the sound of water lapping against the shore provided the background for a quiet evening for two at the end of the pier. The atmosphere was pretty romantic, if he did say so himself. Most of the man-made beach properties had private homes, but when Adam had developed the property, he’d left a few acres for the residents of The Cove to use for parties or a day at the beach with the family. He’d trucked in beach sand, covering the normally rocky shore. There was a cabana, staffed most hours of the day with a bartender and a couple of attendants who would set up chairs and tables on the deck of Dawson Fitzwilliam’s lighthouse. He’d borrowed the romantic atmosphere from his neighbor, hoping to make a good impression on Ginny. After a week of googling proposal ideas, he’d decided that a quiet dinner for two on top of a lighthouse was as creative as anything he’d read.
He’d borrowed the romantic atmosphere, hoping to make a good impression on Ginny. After a week of Googling proposal ideas, he’d decided that a quiet dinner for two on the water was as romantic as anything he read online.
The ring weighed heavily in his pocket. Yes, the stone was big, but what it represented was bigger. His throat was tight, and he had to continually clear it and sip water. The air was warm and heavy with moisture. The water was calm. As the sun set, the stars began to appear and that sense of magic he’d hoped to create appeared.
The chef placed their main course in front of them and moved quickly back to his prep station, which was far enough away that they couldn’t hear the clinking of plates and utensils. He had a propane stovetop and a stainless steel table where he’d prepared an excellent meal.
Quinn was working up to the proposal, but Ginny was slowly killing any chance at romance with a monologue of her week. He listened patiently, waiting for his chance to jump in and change the subject. When she spoke of removing her stepmother from the office, thoughts of a proposal flew right out of his head. “You kicked her out? That’s rather harsh, isn’t it?”
She stopped abruptly at his words. Again, his filter had failed him. He really should get that thing fixed. Questioning her actions wasn’t going to put her in the mood to join him in matrimony—let alone seal the proposal with a kiss. He’d thought that gem of an idea up after seeing image after image of freshly engaged couples in the articles he’d read.
Ginny rolled her hand around. “It’s company policy. No one can get back into their computer or take electronics off the premises without IT clearing them.”
“Understandable,” he hedged.
“It’s funny.” She leaned back in her chair and swirled her drink in the glass. “But I don’t dread going into work now that Jillian is out of the picture. Of course, you know all about that kind of freedom.” She took a sip and lifted her glass.
Quinn’s stomach churned despite the grade-A beef, cooked to perfection, that resided therein. He adjusted his napkin, keeping his eyes on his plate. “I wasn’t happy to be rid of Dad. Each stage of separation was difficult. When he disowned us … it was a betrayal.”
The hardness that had lined her features melted away. She placed her palm over his forearm. “Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so flippant.”
The churning subsided in the wake of her sincerity. “It’s okay. You’d think it wouldn’t sting so much after all he’s put us through.”
“But it does,” she said softly.
