“Only if you let her be.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t let her win.”
“Maybe if I was a sports fan your sports analogy would make more sense.”
He lifted a brow, and he didn’t look impressed. “Let me lay it out for you then,” he said, his deep voice impatient. “I’m a professional athlete. I play baseball. My world is a tough world, and it’s competitive. My job performance is written up nightly in the paper. My team gets discussed in detail on national TV. If I have a good night, it’s talked about. If I have a bad night, it’s talked about. To make it more complicated, there are women out there who are groupies, and overzealous fans. These women throw themselves at the players. They exist on the fringes of all professional sports, and they’re desperate to snare a player of their own. They want to be part of the action, and the money, and the lifestyle, and they go to great lengths to get attention.”
“Are you saying Alice is one of them?”
“No, but she knew about them, and we could talk about the distractions out there, and that’s what I want us to be able to do. We should be able to talk about our feelings without worrying that someone is going to fall apart or run away, and I know you’re afraid of change, but I’m not going to hurt you, or lie to you. You are too important to me.”
“It takes time to build trust.”
“But it’s also hard to trust others if you can’t trust yourself.” He gave her a long look. “Or love yourself.”
She flinched. “That’s rough. I didn’t expect that from you.”
“We’re friends. We’re supposed to tell each other the truth.”
“Then let me tell you a truth—I’m not tough like you. I will never be as tough as you.”
“No, maybe not, but that doesn’t mean you can’t toughen up, because I think you should. You let losers and schmucks bruise you, and you doubt the people you should trust.”
She jerked her chin up and stared at him, quietly furious with him for reading her so well. He wasn’t saying anything new. She’d heard all this—and more—from Amanda and Jenny.
“Growing a thicker skin will only help protect your heart,” he added. “It won’t change who you are. But it will help you survive in this world of ours.”
“Maybe I don’t like your baseball world anymore.”
“Sweetheart, everything I’m talking about has taken place here in Montana. You’re being hurt by idiots in this town. You’re struggling to survive in sweet, little Marietta.”
She lifted her chin even higher. “I don’t think we’re friends at all.”
Quinn gave his head a faint shake, his expression rueful. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’re friends. We’re more than friends. You’re my girl. You’re someone I love. And I still love you, even though you’re seriously ticked off with me.”
“I don’t think I want to be on your team anymore.”
“Tough. You don’t get to just quit like that.”
Charity didn’t answer, she couldn’t, and after a long, tense, miserable minute, Quinn walked out.
Chapter Eleven
It was a terrible morning. Charity’s hands shook so much that she couldn’t even type without constant missed keystrokes.
She tried answering the phone but nearly burst into tears.
Sam pulled her into his office, wondering what Greg had done now, and she’d been forced to explain that this wasn’t Greg, but Quinn. Or rather Quinn’s ex-girlfriend, Alice Sterling, who was in town, staying at the Graff.
By noon, Charity was beyond wiped out. Legs shaking, she put on a heavy coat, leashed Noel and walked him over to Amanda’s hair salon. She told Noel to sit in the corner of the waiting room, and then went in search of her sister.
Amanda was at the shampoo bowl, washing a client’s hair, but after taking a look at Charity’s face, she called one of her assistants to take over. “Finish rinsing, add the deep conditioner, massage in well, wrap in plastic, put her under the dryer for fifteen minutes and then shampoo again. After the final rinse, come get me, okay?”
Amanda dragged Charity to the small back bedroom used by the estheticians but unoccupied at the moment.
“What’s happened?” Amanda said, sitting down on the corner of the treatment bed, and patting the space next to her. “We have a solid eighteen minutes. Talk to me.”
“His girlfriend is here.” Just saying the words made Charity’s chest hurt. “Alice Sterling. She’s here in Marietta, at the Graff, probably ordering lunch right now in the president’s suite.” Charity fought tears. Her voice cracked. “Mandy, why is this happening again?”
“This is a totally different situation. Quinn isn’t seeing her anymore. She’s his ex.”
“But they’re still in touch. They talk all the time. She’s always texting him. Apparently she has a closet of his stuff.”
“I think it’s admirable that Quinn can stay friends with his ex-girlfriends. I always thought it was sad that you and Joe couldn’t be friends. The fact that he cut you off completely after the breakup hurt you more than the breakup itself.”
“At least Joe didn’t have anyone else!”
“I don’t think Quinn is seeing her.”
“Then why is she here? And why did she tell me all these weird things about him? Why did she say that I seemed sweet and she hated to see me hurt? Why tell me that they’re going to end up together, and that this is just a temporary blip?”
“Did she really say all that?”
Charity nodded. “And so much more.”
“She’s making a big play for him, Charity. She’s fighting for him. You have her scared.”
“She knows nothing about me.”
“She knows enough to be here and make a stand.” Amanda nudged her sister with her shoulder. “Take a page from her book. Have some balls. Stand up to her. Fight for Quinn. You didn’t love Greg, so Meghan wasn’t a big deal. But you really care about Quinn, and I know you’re afraid, but now’s the time to fight. Don’t let Alice waltz in, not on your turf, and take away your guy. This is Marietta, Montana. Show her what a Montana girl is made of. And show that Montana boy why you’re the right one for him.”
Charity bit her lip, her insides churning. “I don’t know how to fight,” she said, voice strangled. “I don’t.”
“Not true. You fight for others all the time. You’re incredibly generous. But you don’t give yourself any love.”
Charity flashed to what Quinn had said this morning and it made her cringe. “Are you going to recommend a self-help book next?” she demanded darkly.
“Maybe.” Amanda wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulder, and brought her head close. “You’re not the only one,” she whispered. “We have all struggled with this. We all have terrible self-esteem. But it’s not our fault and it doesn’t have to be this way. You can fight this fear, you know. You just need to come out swinging and believe that you deserve a really wonderful person, because you do. Charity, you’r
e my favorite person in the world. I wouldn’t adore you so much if you weren’t a really amazing person. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my sister. I’m saying it because I know you, and I love you, and it’s made me so upset to see you date all these terrible guys. It’s like that verse in the Bible about throwing pearls before swine.”
Amanda released her but she kept a hand on her sister’s knee. “You, my gorgeous Charity, are a pearl. You’re a rare, wonderful jewel. Demand more, demand more from men and life, and when you find the one you really, truly want, and really, truly love, don’t just let him go. Fight.”
“Quinn is famous and gorgeous and successful. He could have any woman in the world. He’ll tire of me—”
“No! Love doesn’t work that way. You and Joe gave up on each other. Maybe it was timing. Maybe you both were too young, but Quinn isn’t a kid. He’s midthirties, independently wealthy, and established in his career. He knows what he wants in life, and he seems to want you.” Amanda squeezed her knee. “Do you really want to push him away?”
“No.”
“But I don’t have your confidence. I wish I did. I wish I wasn’t ashamed of myself.”
“Ashamed of what?”
“Everything! Mandy, I’m thirty and I’ve achieved nothing. I didn’t pursue fashion and design. I didn’t even apply to Parsons because I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“You keep calling yourself a failure. You keep blaming yourself for not taking risks. But you did take risks. You took huge risks. You gave up your dreams to take care of me and Mom and Dad. You are the ultimate caretaker, and that’s not what cowards do. It’s what brave people do.”
Charity glanced away, tears blinding her.
“Don’t think I’m not aware of all the times you put yourself on the outside of the bed so that Dad couldn’t reach me when he was drunk. Don’t think I don’t know why you wouldn’t go to New York. It’s because it would mean leaving me home alone with them. I know who you are, Charity, and it’s brave and strong and so full of love that it makes me feel unworthy.”
Charity dashed away a tear. “Stop.”