I pull up to Quinn’s office building the next evening and am not surprised to hear that he’s already buzzed me through security to park in the private lot, and he’s arranged to have two guys come down and carry the boxes up for me.
Which is good because paper is heavy.
“We have these, Ms. Hendricks. Follow us,” one of the young men says. They’re both in suits and look young enough to be law clerks or junior attorneys.
I remember those days.
They escort me up the elevator, and rather than walk into the conference room that I’d seen the last time I was here, they lead me in the opposite direction to Quinn’s office.
I’m very interested to see how Quinn decorated his office.
The door is open, so the guys walk ahead of me and place the boxes on a table across the room from his desk.
The room is fucking huge. You could host a party for sixty people in this room. Quinn’s desk is massive and black, with two monitors, papers, pens and pencils, and folders covering half the surface. His chair is also black and large.
It looks supercomfortable.
The table where my boxes are now sitting is big enough to seat six. The boxes are on one end, and it looks like food containers are at the other.
He also has a large gray couch, two yellow chairs, all situated before a fireplace.
In contrast, my office is about the size of a cubicle and I had to rummage through a storage room to find a chair that wasn’t from 1955.
“Hey,” he says after the guys leave and shuts the door behind them. “Thank you for coming all this way.”
“It’s really not a problem,” I reply with a smile. “You come out my way every day, so it’s only fair that I come to you when you need me to.”
He grins, and looks like he wants to say something, but there’s a knock on his door, and another man walks in.
He looks like he could be Quinn’s twin.
“I’m leaving,” he announces, then stops when he sees me. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Finn, this is Sienna Hendricks. Sienna, this is my brother, Finn.”
“Hi,” I say with a smile and shake his outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he replies. Jesus, the Cavanaughs have excellent genes.
“Are you nervous?” Quinn asks Finn, who frowns and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“I’m fucking terrified,” he admits, but then shrugs. “It’s a new thing for me.”
“Why are you terrified?” I ask, not at all shy about asking. If they didn’t want me to know, they wouldn’t be talking about it in front of me.
“I’m proposing to my girlfriend this weekend. After the show tomorrow night, we’re headed to our place at the beach.”
“That’s right, Quinn mentioned it. Is that the ring?” I gesture to the blue box in his hand, and he smiles proudly.
“Yes, do you want to see it?”
“Hell yes, I want to see it.”
Both men chuckle as Finn unwraps the box and opens the black box inside, revealing a pear-shaped diamond the size of a baby’s fist.
Holy fucking shit. This looks like it belongs in the crown jewels.
“Well?” Finn asks. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
“If she doesn’t, she’s not a woman,” I reply when I find my voice. “This is absolutely stunning, Finn.”
“Told you,” Quinn says and pats his brother on the back. “She’s going to lose her shit.”
I think I just lost my shit.
In fact, I know I did.
That ring cost Finn more than I make in a year. I’ve lost sight of how different Quinn and I are while he’s been coming out to the Bronx to work with me. Despite the Porsche, I’ve forgotten how polar opposite we are on the financial spectrum.
And I’m perfectly okay with not being wealthy.
But Louise was right, I don’t fit in. My five-hundred-dollar budget for the show tomorrow night is a joke. Hell, the suit he’s wearing right now had to cost four times that much, and he’s just at work.
In contrast, I’m wearing a suit that I got on sale for two hundred dollars.
I’m not saying I’m less than him. I’m not.
But I don’t belong here either.
“Thanks for the confidence booster,” Finn says with a smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow night?”
I nod, unable to admit that I’ve begun to consider pulling out of the date.
But Quinn is all smiles as he escorts his brother to the door, confirms that we’ll be there early to see the family, and then turns to me when we’re alone.
Jesus, I have to meet his family.
“I’m not going tomorrow night,” I announce. My voice sounds high to my own ears, but I swallow hard and raise my chin, trying to look more confident than I am.
Quinn’s eyes narrow as he pushes his hands in his pockets and walks slowly toward me.