Ben may have been the driving force behind the business side of Magic Lamp Parks, but Quinn was the genius who set their rides above the rest. No one touched his level of creativity and daring. The closest competitor was a start-up in China; so far, all they’d succeeded in doing was make unremarkable copies of Magic Lamp’s current coasters. They were careful to stay on the right side of trademark and copyright infringement laws. Quinn’s patents on the hydraulics used in Magic Lamp Parks meant his rides could go higher, faster, and be totally amazing, while the competitors had to settle for three-quarters of the speed, height, and therefore awesomeness.
Quinn had been so excited to show Ben the new simulation that he didn’t even ask him why he’d driven his Elvis Presley-owned golf cart over from his house next door. “What’s up with you?”
Ben shrugged, a knowing gleam in his eye. “That was a thrill.” He pointed to the simulator. “How long till the designs are finished? It’d be perfect for the Pennsylvania park.”
“I thought you retired.” Quinn opened the design program and began manipulating the tracks to add that rollover at the top of the last drop. A rollover had the effect of yanking the seat right out from under a rider, floating them. Usually their stomachs lifted too, earning giggles and screams.
“Only from the boring stuff.” He picked up a pair of 3D goggles and fiddled with the strap. “So what do you think? Pennsylvania?”
“Sure. But we can’t build it yet.”
“Why not?”
“It won’t pass the seizure test.”
Ben dug his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Shoot.”
“I’ll get it there.” Quinn worked in silence for a few minutes, lost in the lines and loops.
“This came for you, sir.” Burgess interrupted his concentration. His valet, for lack of a better term, had access to the whole house. He was the only person, besides Quinn’s niece Savannah and Ben, who could interrupt his work without earning a scowl.
Burgess set a thick cream envelope near the keypad. Quinn’s name and address were printed in calligraphy across the middle. In the upper left-hand corner was the gold-and-red seal of his alma mater. “I believe it’s the invitation to your college reunion.”
Quinn stared at the envelope as if its existence was questionable and perhaps he’d gone crazy in the last five minutes. He supposed it could happen; the coaster would induce seizures.
Burgess left without saying goodbye.
Slowly, Quinn became aware of Ben standing close, staring at him while he stared at the envelope. Quinn readjusted his focus on the computer screen.
“Well?” demanded Ben. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Later.”
“Quinn, Ginny could be there.”
While it had always been Virginia in college, he and Ben had taken to calling his almost fiancée Ginny over the last few years. The nickname reminded him of all the time he’d spent pining away over a woman who was drifting across the globe. “So?” was his brilliant response.
Ben huffed. “So, I’ve watched you sabotage every possible relationship for ten years because you’re in love with this woman, and this is your ticket to her. This is your dance card.”
Quinn pressed his lips shut and refused to look away from the screen. He didn’t need the imploring look his brother was no doubt throwing his way. Nor did he need theyou’re a foollook that was sure to follow.
Instead of railing on him as Quinn expected, Ben spoke softly. “Don’t get me wrong, bro. You saved my butt when Grace and I split up. I had no idea what I was doing as a single father, and you were a lifesaver. But this reunion is your expiration date on that marriage pact.”
“I hate deadlines,” he mumbled.
“Always have.”
“I can’t fly down there. This is our busy season.”
“Like your job has a busy season. The parks are busy, but you set your own schedule. Don’t be a wuss.”
Quinn chose to ignore him rather than engage in a spirited debate about going after a woman who’d left him to find herself. As he looked back on that night so long ago, he shook his head. He’d always known who Ginny was on the inside; she just couldn’t see herself. It baffled him that she struggled to understand how remarkable she truly was.
“I didn’t want to do this …” Ben kicked Quinn’s chair to get his attention. “But I’m going to have to throw your words back in your face.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Do your worst.”
“You asked for it.” Ben took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. “When Grace and I divorced, I swore I’d never fall in love again.”
