Quinn followed Burgess into the bathroom, where a barber’s chair waited. Burgess gave him the full treatment, leaving his beard but cleaning up his slightly overgrown hair. By the time Quinn climbed into the back of his limo, he looked like a proper billionaire. Ginny would tease him for days if she knew that thought had crossed his mind.
He smiled at his reflection in the darkened window—looking forward to their light-hearted banter and the dance she’d promised him. He hadn’t wanted to go, but now that he was on the way, a sense of anticipation made the hair on his arms stand up. Tonight would either end his hopes and dash his dreams, or set him on a new path with the woman he’d loved for over ten years.
The limo turned onto Broad Street and entered the Space Needle Loop, a fancy term for a circular driveway. A valet waited to open Quinn’s door at the apex of the loop. He stepped out to find a path over the grass marked with candles and sprinkled with a colorful variety of flower petals. The path led up to the entrance doors of the Chihuly Museum, where a steady stream of his former classmates strolled in wearing gowns, dark suits, and polite smiles. Where had the awkward and loud guys and gals gone? Somewhere, Peter Pan wept that so many Lost Boys had grown up.
“Quinton Wilaby?” asked a man with a comb-over.
Quinn shook his outstretched hand. “Sorry, I don’t …”
“Brad Hunting. I lived two doors down sophomore year.”
Big Belly Brad. The guy had won every eating competition—from pies to hot dogs—on campus. “It’s good to see you again.” Quinn smacked him on the back. “What are you up to these days?”
Brad put a hand on his round stomach. “I’m a scientist at Farm & Family Foods. You?” He laughed and slapped his leg. “Who am I kidding—we all know what you’ve been up to.”
They passed through the doors, held by two young ladies in Stanford red dresses and matching lipstick. “The main gathering is in the greenhouse and the garden. Just follow the museum’s natural layout, and you’ll get there without a problem,” said the girl on the right.
Quinn tried to shake off the shackles of celebrity Brad had thrust upon him with one comment. This was why he liked to stay in his office and out of the spotlight. A trickle of sweat rolled between his shoulder blades. Brad called out to someone, and Quinn took the opportunity to disappear around a corner. He’d chosen the right path but had a long hallway before he entered the first room, where a stunning piece of glass art was on display.
When he’d first come to Seattle, he’d spent hours here, studying the pieces, understanding how they worked together, learning about the master glassblower that created them. Instead of getting caught up in the beauty, he skipped a couple of rooms in case Brad was looking for him. He slowed in front of the boats full of baubles. These were his favorite pieces. They were fun and didn’t imitate anything in life. Who filled canoes with bouncy balls? This piece was the one that had spoken to him as a designer of whimsy.
A woman laughed, and his heart froze. He closed his eyes, trying to separate memory from the present. That could have been Ginny. His Ginny. He opened his eyes and spun around, finding himself alone in the room. This wasn’t a museum; it was a fun house.
Growling at his pulse to calm the heck down, he pressed on until he was in the greenhouse. The sun had set while he was inside, and the overhead lights made the glass flowers high above their heads look like poetry. Cups clinked together as classmates toasted the last ten years. Waiters moved silently through the crowd, offering their trays of hors d’oeuvres without interrupting conversations. Quinn nodded to his business associates as he passed by. He should stop and network, but he wasn’t here to make or strengthen corporate connections. Lifting onto his toes, he scanned the room for Ginny’s dark golden hair.
“At least I’m not the only tortured soul in the room.” Adam Moreau swiped a cracker with crab salad off a passing tray and popped it into his mouth. The scar on his cheek stretched as he chewed. “In my case, it’s not a woman who has my heart on the rocks.”
“Who says I’m tortured?”
He swallowed thickly. “Virginia was a friend of mine too.”
A lion’s worth of pride welled up inside Quinn, and he fought to keep the primal sense of competition from shading his thoughts and creating a problem where one didn’t exist. Adam was practically married and head over heels in love with Bella.
“If she comes, she’ll find you first. Don’t worry.” Adam’s attempt at comfort conflicted with his stiff posture. The prominent lawyer lived in a castle. If it had a drawbridge, Adam would keep it up all year long.
Quinton let the hot air out of his lungs. “I’m surprised to see you here, but I’m glad you came.” Adam was not only the lawyer who had pummeled Quinn’s father’s lawyers in court not long ago; he was also the mastermind behind the gated community where Quinn and Ben had built their homes. The Cove was a haven where security wasn’t an issue, and they had enough land to be eccentric if desired. But it was also becoming a neighborhood where you could, well, not borrow a cup of sugar, but perhaps a private plane or slip at the dock, if needed.
Adam snarled as only Adam could. “Trust me, this wasn’t my idea.” He softened considerably. “Bella thinks milestones like this should be celebrated.”
Quinn was sure she did. She probably had Adam celebrating all sorts of things in that castle of his—like first-date anniversaries and Valentine’s Day. If Bella had her way, they’d host a Christmas Ball. He’d heard the rumors racing through the neighborhood that the castle might be open for the holidays, although the wedding was scheduled for January, so the couple might forgo the hassle of hosting this year. Time would tell.
As if summoned by Adam’s mention of her name, Bella appeared, wearing a golden gown, the hem brushing the floor and swirling with her graceful attempts to avoid servers. “I got it!” She threw her arms around Adam’s neck. “Staker & Cox have the upmost privilege of my legal counsel. I’ll make partner before the wedding.” She squealed.
Adam’s arms gathered her close, his face transforming in Bella’s presence. She truly had tamed the Beast. “They’d be stupid to turn you down.” He kissed her forehead. “Can we go now?”
Quinn snickered.
Bella blinked as if just realizing he was there. “Quinton, how are you?” She released Adam’s neck and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. They exchanged pleasantries, discussing the latest happenings in The Cove. Adam stiffened each time someone walked too close to their little group. Several had their phones out. No doubt they’d be posted on social media in moments.
Bella noted his discomfort. “One dance?” she asked coyly. “Then we’ll go.”
Adam jerked his chin down.
“I’ll see you two at Ben’s kickoff to summer bash?” Quinn said by way of goodbye.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bella replied happily.
Adam’s eyebrows lowered, making Quinton laugh.
