All It Takes (Romancing Manhattan 2)
“You might hate it,” I reply, trying to lighten the mood again.
“I’ll love it,” she says with a sniff, then smiles brightly. “Now, let’s toast to new beginnings and new friends.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
The waitress returns to ask us if we’d like to order food.
“Should we order something?” Finn asks, but Quinn is already shaking his head no.
“We have to go to work,” he says and winks at me.
“Thanks for the drinks, and congratulations again,” I say as London comes around the table to give me a hug. “Let’s do this again.”
“I’m holding you to that,” she says. “And when you’re ready to head to the beach, Quinn and Finn will arrange it.”
“Thank you.”
We walk out of the bar and down the block to Quinn’s office building, then down to the parking garage.
“Are you sure you want to drive into the Bronx at this time?” I ask him, checking my watch. “That’ll put you home really late.”
“I hate to lose another day of work, but what I really want to do is take you home, get you naked, and make you scream.”
My whole body tenses, and my panties flood. Jesus, he can take me from pleasantly content to raging horniness in the span of seven words.
“Um, well, that sounds like fun too.”
He laughs, kisses my hand again, and drives smoothly through Manhattan traffic to his building.
“Of course, you’re going to have to feed me.”
“Sex and food, in that order.”
Chapter Eleven
~Quinn~
“Now that we’ve wrapped that up,” Bruce House says and shifts his papers on my conference table, “let’s talk about the property in the Bronx. How is the case going?”
This is how I spend every Friday morning, with Bruce in the conference room, going over the several cases that I’m working on for him at any given time.
The man owns half of Manhattan.
“It’s progressing,” I reply. “Ms. Hendricks, the family’s attorney, has found two receipts of payments on the original loan, showing payment of fifty percent.”
His eyebrows climb and he sits back in his chair, thinking.
“Interesting. So it’s conceivable that the loan was paid in full after all.”
It’s probable. “Agreed.”
“The city attorney’s name is Hendricks?”
I narrow my eyes, watching as he rubs his fingertips over his lips.
“You know it is, you met her.”
“I honestly didn’t remember her name at the time, but it occurs to me that the last name of the person who sent me the letter was Hendricks.”
Every hair on my body stands on end.
“And you’re realizing that now?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It didn’t seem important at the time.”
“It’s called Hendricks Park, the attorney’s name is Hendricks, and you didn’t connect the dots that the person who gave you this letter is also Hendricks?”
He stares at me for a moment, not answering, and I want to throw something.
“Bruce.”
“Okay, I didn’t say anything,” he says and holds his hands up in surrender. “I am now.”
“I can’t represent you if you withhold information.”
He holds my gaze steadily. “You have the information.”
“What was the first name?”
“Patrick,” he says, and my blood is officially boiling. “Is he a relative of hers?”
“I don’t know,” I reply, lying easily. I’m not giving Bruce personal information on Sienna. “I’ll keep you posted on any changes in the case.”
“I know.”
He gathers his things, and just as he is every Friday, he’s out the door by ten.
And I immediately walk into Finn’s office, pleased to see that Carter’s already here.
“I need to talk to you two.”
I shut the door and lock it, earning intrigued looks from both of them.
“What’s up?” Carter asks and takes a sip of coffee.
“Bruce House is a pain in my ass, and I don’t know why I work for him.”
“Because he brings millions of dollars into our practice every year,” Finn replies reasonably. “What did he do now?”
“He withheld important information on the Bronx case. He just told me it was Patrick Hendricks who gave him the original letter of sale.”
“Who’s Patrick Hendricks?” Finn asks.
“Sienna’s uncle.”
They exchange looks of surprise, and I want to punch something all over again.
“Why didn’t he tell you that weeks ago?”
“Why does Bruce do anything he does?” I respond and pace to the windows. “But now I know that Sienna’s fucking uncle is trying to sabotage ownership of the park. She’s going to be so hurt. She’s close to him.”
“Quinn, you can’t tell her.” I turn at Carter’s comment and shove my hands in my pockets, dread settling heavy in my belly. “Attorney-client privilege. You can’t tell her.”
“I’m fucked,” I reply and sit in the leather chair next to Carter, then hang my head in my hands. “How am I supposed to look her in the eye and keep this from her?”
“What’s really going on between you two?” Carter asks. “Surely it’s not more than sex.”
“I’m head over heels in love with her,” I reply immediately, surprising all three of us. I stare at each of them, my mouth opening and closing, and then I swallow hard and rub my hand down my face. “Yeah, I am.”