Red Carpet Romance (25 page)

Chapter Fourteen

With all her packing almost done,
Susanna headed for the art store. She bought a pad and some new pencils and
strolled over to Central Park, looking for something to draw. She needed a
breather. Her cell phone rang several times. She ignored the calls from Quinn.
She feared the sting of his anger, or worse, his disappointment. He’d already
stated he didn’t love her, wanted her
gone
.
She was too humiliated, too embarrassed, and too ashamed to face him anyway.
The betrayal sat between them, creating a gulf as wide as the Atlantic Ocean.

She sat back, opened a bottle of
iced tea, and looked around. Right next to her was a lovely, small, delicate
tree. She set to work sketching the twisting trunk and the symmetrical leaves.
Drawing was soothing, took her mind off her troubles. Consumed by her task, she
didn’t hear a man approaching. When he cleared his throat, she looked up. It
was Quinn.

“Took me long enough to find you.”

Her pulse raced, and she could hear
her heart beating in her ears. Her palms began to sweat, and her breath
quickened. Silence fell between them.

“I’m leaving tomorrow to film. I’ll
be gone for several months, but I couldn’t leave without telling you this.”

She put up her hand. “Please! I
think you said everything the other night. I heard you. You were right, but I
don’t need to hear it again.” The sting of tears at the back of her eyes warned
her.

“I know. I was hasty…out of line.”

“You were correct. Everything you
said was the truth. Let’s not go over it again.”

“Of course. No. I’m sorry.”

“What’s done is done. Okay? Can’t we
forget it and move on?” She tried to look away, but the way his hair flopped
over his forehead, and his boyish grin charmed her, threw her off guard. She
couldn’t look away.

“First, you left this behind,” he
extended his hand, which held her sketchbook.

“I didn’t leave it. I gave it to
you, so you wouldn’t worry I was selling those pictures to the media.” She
glanced up enough to see a sigh of relief escape his lips.

“One page is missing.”

She stiffened. “I thought you
wouldn’t mind if I kept one picture for myself…as a memento. But if you want it
back, I’ll mail it to you before I leave.” She sensed the heat building in her
cheeks and tried to look away.

“Leave?”

“I’m going to study art, in Paris.”
She swallowed, ignoring the heat growing inside simply by being near him. She
fidgeted with her pencil, twirling it between her fingers, her gaze cast down.
If you look at him, you’ll cry. No crying!

“Paris? How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. What’s it matter?
We’re done.”

“Are we?”

She nodded stiffly. “Besides, you’re
going on location. Be gone a long time. You’ll find someone new there, I’m
sure.”

“I’m not. I…don’t know if I can mend
this…”

“You can’t. So don’t try. Time away
will do us both good.”

“Think so?” He shot a questioning
look at her.

“You go your way and do…your thing,
and I’ll go mine.”

“But when the film wraps?”

“If I’m back by then…we’ll see.” She
shrugged.

“Will you see me when I get back?”

“You’ll have to ask me then.” She
packed up her supplies.
He’s not going to
leave and let me draw.

“When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.” She lowered her gaze to
avoid his eyes.

“Going with anyone?”

“Nope. On my own.”

“Please don’t fall in love with a
Frenchman, or any man, before you come back,” he whispered.

How
could I? My heart belongs to you.
Words failed her as tears filled her
eyes. She turned away, blinking heavily, heading north. He grabbed her elbow.

“Promise? I promise,” he said.

“No promises.”
Don’t promise me, Quinn. Don’t break my heart a second time.

“Dinner. When you get back. Just
dinner?”

“Okay, okay. Dinner.” She attempted
a smile but failed.
Leave before you fall
into his arms, sobbing.
“Good luck with the movie. I know you’ll be great.”
She touched his shoulder for a second before moving away from him quickly.

“But wait! I forgot to tell you…”

She raised her palm. “It’ll have to
wait.” Her pace quickened. She tried not to look back, but when she got to the
exit from the park, she turned and he was still standing there, watching her. A
sigh escaped her mouth before she resumed her path up Central Park West, disappearing
into the rush hour crowd returning home.

* * * *

January 20, New
York City

Susanna awoke to a winter sun
peeking in-between her shade and curtains, bringing no warmth. Her studio
apartment sublet on Central Park West was small, but it was all the space she
needed. Her portfolio was half-full of drawings and watercolors she created in
her class at
École national supériere,
and the rest from work she did in this small apartment. She had returned from
Paris in time for Christmas with Annie, Jonathan, and their kids.

The holidays were a melancholy time
for her. She thought about Quinn all the time. In fact, in the months since
they had separated, she thought of nothing else when she wasn’t drawing or
painting. Accepting a few dates in Paris had been a pleasant diversion, but she
had no desire for any other man and consequently found none of them fascinating
or terribly attractive. Quinn still owned her heart, and her disappointment at
not being able to move on drove her back to New York City before she’d planned,
rather than remain for another semester in Paris.

She had hoped to hear from Quinn but
didn’t know when his film would wrap. If he didn’t contact her, maybe she’d be
better off.
What would I say to him now?
Sipping
her first cup of coffee, she made her plan for the day when her cell phone went
off. A text message was coming in.

Back in New York this
morning. Can you do dinner tonight?

Quinn

Hmm, no “love Quinn,” just “Quinn.”
Don’t be a bitch. Accept. Go. Get this
either moving forward or over with.
She returned the text.

Yes. Where and when?

He replied—

7:30 at Limoges? Bobby
will pick you up at seven?

She responded—

Perfect.

Her next text was to her sister.
This was Annie’s reply.

No work today. Take the
day off and come shopping. We need to get

you a new dress and
shoes for tonight!

Dress
and shoes for dinner with Quinn? Waste of money. Maybe. But why not? I haven’t
bought anything in an age.
She texted her sister, ate breakfast, and
bundled up for the walk to Annie’s apartment.

The women spent the day shopping at
Bergdorf Goodman and Henri Bendel. Annie insisted Susanna buy some new
lingerie, as she was convinced dessert would happen in Quinn’s bedroom.

They ended up buying a deep purple,
wool, form-fitting dress with a low-cut neckline. The sleeves were loose and
slit up to the shoulder. A twisted, silver necklace, with several strands of
silver chains, plus matching earrings and gray pumps, finished the look.

The ladies dined in the elegant
lunchroom at Bergdorf’s, chatting like schoolgirls. A big smile refused to
leave Susanna’s face. Anticipation heated her blood, while tension coiled
quietly inside her.
What will I find?
Love? Hate?
Back in her apartment, she paced as well as she could in the
cramped space as she pondered her opening line.

“Hey, Quinn, great to see you!”

She frowned. “Nope.”

“Hi, Quinn, you look great.”

She shook her head then decided to
say nothing first.
Let him speak. You
reply. Much easier.
She put a Matthew Morrison album on her CD player. She
danced as she took the tags off the new clothing. Lavender satin bra and matching
bikini panties.
I’m not sleeping with him
tonight.
Still, she planned a long bath.

Adding plenty of lilac bath beads,
the tub filled with bubbles. She slid in, letting the fragrant hot water relax
her muscles. While she scrubbed, then simply soaked, she thought about what she
wanted from Quinn.
Friendship? Lover?
Both? Nothing?
She chuckled at her own silliness.

She knew exactly what she wanted
from Quinn…everything. Nothing less would do, but she had to tread lightly. She
had no idea how he felt about her. Sure, he’d been anxious to mend fences at
their last meeting in the park, but now? A lot of water under the bridge since
then.
Maybe he’s met someone new?
Her
throat closed up, choking her. Maybe not. But she knew she had to consider the
possibility.
I’d have seen it in the
papers. At least since I got back, if not in Paris.

She blushed as she remembered
grabbing a copy of
Celebs R Us
as
soon as she hit American soil, searching for pictures of Quinn and another
woman. She recalled expelling a big breath when she didn’t find any.

Listening to “Summer Rain”
brought her mind back to Quinn’s
bedroom. Her body ached for his touch, but she was cautious.
Wait. Yeah, right. Wait.
She giggled as
she pulled the plug and wrapped herself in a bath sheet.

* * * *

Down the avenue, Quinn Roberts
pulled out three pairs of pants and four different shirts. He matched up each
without finding a pair he liked. He finally settled on gray, flannel pants and
a blue shirt the color of his eyes. A black leather belt and his camel,
cashmere sports jacket. He frowned into the mirror.
She has such good taste. Look at me. A mess.

He was disgusted but knew nothing in
his closet would do. He paced, poured himself a jigger of
Chivas
. Chugged it. Looked over the men’s colognes parked on his
dresser and decided on
Mon Ami
.
French. She’s been in France. What if she’s
going to tell me it’s over? What if she met someone else?
His nerves were
frayed and his stomach tied in knots.
I
have to tell her the truth. It’s been too long. She has a right to know.

He checked his watch for the fifth
time in five minutes.
Bobby will be here
in ten minutes. He’s getting her after me. If she was dumping me, she wouldn’t
meet me for dinner, right? She’s too nice to do that. Unless she’s still
pissed.
He stopped in the bathroom to brush his teeth on the off chance
he’d get to kiss her. Since Bobby was driving, he didn’t need his topcoat. He
paced in the lobby of the building, waiting for his ride.

“Nervous tonight, Mr. Quinn?” Crash
asked.

“Going to get Susanna back, Crash.
Or trying to.”

“Good for you. Much better than the
others.” Crash opened the door for a woman.

“There haven’t been many others for
a long time.”

“Guess you finally got tired of the
single life, eh?” He smirked.

“Once there was Susanna, there
wasn’t anyone else.” Quinn cast his gaze down.

“That’s the way it should be with
the right girl.”

Quinn smiled at him. “Got that
right.”

Bobby pulled up, and the
conversation was over.

Jean Marc sat Quinn at the most
private table in the restaurant. He ordered a drink while he waited for
Susanna.
I’m so nervous. You’d think this
was a first date, not a meeting with a woman I’ve already lived with.
He
smiled at the irony of that.

He hadn’t gone wild in the dating
department in years. Serial dating was something he and Chaz got out of their
systems while doing summer stock in Pine Grove. It didn’t take long to resonate
with both young men the troubles they could have from dating and bedding too
many women.

Quinn took a hefty sip of his vodka
and tonic while he trained his eyes on the entrance to the restaurant. There
she was, looking around nervously, looking more gorgeous than he remembered. He
almost dropped his drink. Standing awkwardly, he motioned to her. Jean Marc
escorted her to his table. One look and he knew he was hopelessly in love and
putty in her hands. Although he had been worried about what he should say when
he first saw her, at this moment, everything came naturally.

He eased out of the booth. Watching
her sway as she walked toward him, his spirits soared. Jean Marc bowed and
disappeared. Quinn couldn’t take his eyes off her. He scooped her into his arms
for a huge hug. After releasing her, he gave her a peck on the lips then
stepped to the side so she could sit down. Her face glowed.
Is it because she’s here with me?

“I’m so glad to see you.” He beamed
at her. “You look gorgeous.”

Her tentative smile broadened at his
warmth. Quinn ordered a drink for her and a refill for himself. Their fingers
drummed idly on the table as their eyes connected.

“I’m glad to see you, too,” she
said.

“Before we go further, there’s
something I have to tell you. I meant to tell you in the park at our last
meeting…I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t let you. I was afraid it
was angry or sad news. Is it?”

He shook his head. “No way. It’s the
best news in the world.”

“I was stupid for not letting you
tell me then. Go ahead.”

He took her hand. “No recriminations
about anything.”

“So tell me. Now I’m curious…gotta
know.”

He laced his fingers with hers. “Max
bought the book to take it to Broadway, not to film.”

“Broadway?” She turned her head to
look at him.

“Broadway. He sold his backers on
the project by using my name. He promised them I’d do the play. With that
promise, he raised the backing to bring the story to Broadway, and…he offered
me the lead.”