All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)

“Fuck off,” I reply, my hand already fisted and ready to land in his face when I glance up and see Sienna standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with confusion.

“What the hell?” She props her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “Why would you speak that way to my uncle?”

“You must not have heard the part where he basically called you a whore,” I reply, my eyes returning to Patrick’s. But he shakes his head and turns to Sienna, his face transforming into a soft smile.

“I did no such thing,” he says, his voice smoothing immediately. “You know I wouldn’t say something like that. I’ve already voiced my concerns to you, Sienna, about working so closely with the opposing counsel. I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“I’ve already told you that it’s none of your business,” she says, surprising me. “We aren’t doing anything wrong by working together to get to the bottom of a case that goes back a century. I don’t appreciate you cornering Quinn in the kitchen and grilling him.”

“I’m looking out for your best interests.”

Bullshit. He just admitted to me that he intends for Sienna to lose the case.

“I think it’s time to go,” Sienna says. She turns and marches out the door and I’m close on her heels. “I’m sorry, everyone, but we have to go back to work.”

“You work too hard, dear,” Sienna’s mom says, but we say our good-byes and are on our way back to my condo before Sienna will even speak to me.

“I didn’t like hearing you speak that way to my uncle.”

And I don’t like that your uncle is trying to fuck you over.

“I can’t believe you’re close to that man,” I reply, my hands tightening almost painfully on the steering wheel. “You weren’t there to hear what he said before you came in.”

“He’s not been himself lately,” she insists. “I told you that before. I don’t know what’s going on with him. Maybe he’s grieving, maybe he’s worried about the case.”

Yeah, worried that you’ll find that last payment and he’ll be screwed.

“I don’t buy it, Sienna. You just don’t say shit like that about your niece. I would cut off my own tongue before I said something like that about Gabby.”

“Maybe he has something going on medically,” she argues. “We don’t know. But I do know that I’ve been close to him my whole life and I walked in on my boyfriend telling him to fuck off.”

“Damn right I did, and I’m not apologizing for standing up for the woman I love, Sienna. He’s lucky I didn’t deck him. I’d like to go back and do exactly that.”

“I can’t believe this,” she grumbles. “He may be too opinionated about how we’re handling the case, I don’t disagree with you there. But he also comes from another era, where he probably wouldn’t have worked with opposing counsel.”

“Or a woman,” I mutter without being able to hold it in.

“He encouraged me to go to law school,” she says. “Seriously, Quinn, I think you’re overreacting.”

And I can’t fucking explain to her that I’m not. It’s the most frustrating situation I’ve ever been in.

“I told you before that I don’t trust him, and he hasn’t changed my opinion.”

“Well, I trust him,” she says, and my hands tighten on the wheel again. “There are three men in this world that I trust the most, and it’s you, my dad, and Uncle Patrick.”

Slash to the heart.

“So, even though you don’t trust him, I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you.” I peel my hand off the wheel and take her hand in mine, pulling it to my lips. “Implicitly.”

“That’s all that matters.”

I need to figure out a way to tell her that Patrick is a lying douchebag and not break the law. Because keeping it from her is killing me.

I’m in my office the next morning, and rather than the work I’m supposed to be doing, I’m staring at a blank piece of paper, trying to think of ways to fill Sienna in.

“I could ask Finn or Carter to tell her,” I mumble, but then immediately scratch that off the list. Technically, Bruce is their client, too, since he hired the firm, not just me.

Damn it.

I could take my notes home from that meeting with Bruce and leave them on the kitchen counter for her to accidentally see.

The only problem with that is, she won’t read them. I know her, and she’s too principled to sneak a look at notes that don’t belong to her.

God, I love her.

I could send her an anonymous letter. I sit back in my chair, thinking it over. She checks her mail a couple times a week, so that could work. It might be the only way to do it and not have it come back on me.

There’s a knock at my door and Sienna walks in with a smile on her face. She locks the door behind her.