her participation.
On the way to work this morning, he’d had a long talk with himself. He explained that Amelia was a crucial element of Riley O’Brien & Co.’s future success, and that scaring her off with his Neanderthal behavior was a big no-no.
Recalling Cal’s suggestion about keeping her happy, hehad decided to buy her a gift. He had taken a long lunch and made the trip to nearby Union Center to visit the Williams-Sonoma there. He spent almost forty minutes reviewing the juicing machines on display and quizzing the customer service rep about the difference between a slow juicer and a regular one before making his purchase.
He’d walked out of the store with the best juicer on the market, or so the rep had assured him. Supposedly this model worked equally well on crisp fruits and vegetables without mangling softer produce.
He grunted. Who knew juicing was so complicated?
Quinn placed the baseball in the crook of his elbow and pulled back his cuff to look at his watch. Six thirty p.m. She should be back in the penthouse by now.
Rising from the sofa, he placed the baseball back in its holder and hefted the cardboard box that held the juicer. He had three bags of organic produce in his Audi, but he hadn’t been able to carry in everything when he’d returned from lunch. He would have to go back down and get those later.
The trip to the thirty-second floor took less than a minute. Bracing the box against the penthouse’s door to free one of his hands, he knocked loudly. He didn’t hear any movement from inside, so he repeated the motion, this time with more force.
Nothing.
He dropped his head against the maple door. He’d thought about Amelia all day, almost to the point of obsession, which wasn’t like him at all. And now he felt like a kid who had waited in line
forever
for an ice cream cone only to drop it the minute he had it in his hands.
He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should take the juicer back downstairs or let himself into the penthouse and drop it off. If he waited to give it to her, he’d be able to witness her excitement when she saw it. If he let himself in, he could unpack the juicer, and she would have a nice surprise when she finally arrived.
He smiled at the thought of surprising her and quickly keyed in the code to open the door. The penthouse was designed in a large, open floor plan. The kitchen, dining, andliving areas flowed together, flanked on both sides by a bedroom and en suite bathroom.
Once inside, he made his way to the kitchen, which was separated from the dining area by a long granite bar. A matching island split the kitchen, and that’s where he unloaded the box.
Pulling a Swiss Army knife from the front pocket of his jeans, he sliced open the box and got to work unpacking the juicer. He’d just placed it on the island when he heard a high-pitched scream from behind him.
Startled, he spun around to see Amelia standing in the dining area wearing a fuzzy, pink robe. Her long hair was in soggy spirals around her face, her mouth was open in a big O, and her eyes were bugged out with surprise.
Shit.
She was here, and he’d obviously just scared her to death.
“It’s just me,” he said and then wanted to roll his eyes at the stupidity of that statement.
When she didn’t respond, he held up his arms like she was a police officer who’d just shouted, “hands up.” He rushed to explain. “I’m sorry. I knocked. Loudly. When you didn’t answer, I thought you weren’t here. So I let myself in. I wanted to surprise you—”
She’d clearly found her voice because she interrupted him. “I’d say you were successful,” she said dryly. “What are you doing here, Quinn?”
Dropping his arms back down to his sides, he leaned his butt against the island, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. “I brought you a gift. But now I have a much greater appreciation for the wise person who first realized that no good deed goes
On the way to work this morning, he’d had a long talk with himself. He explained that Amelia was a crucial element of Riley O’Brien & Co.’s future success, and that scaring her off with his Neanderthal behavior was a big no-no.
Recalling Cal’s suggestion about keeping her happy, hehad decided to buy her a gift. He had taken a long lunch and made the trip to nearby Union Center to visit the Williams-Sonoma there. He spent almost forty minutes reviewing the juicing machines on display and quizzing the customer service rep about the difference between a slow juicer and a regular one before making his purchase.
He’d walked out of the store with the best juicer on the market, or so the rep had assured him. Supposedly this model worked equally well on crisp fruits and vegetables without mangling softer produce.
He grunted. Who knew juicing was so complicated?
Quinn placed the baseball in the crook of his elbow and pulled back his cuff to look at his watch. Six thirty p.m. She should be back in the penthouse by now.
Rising from the sofa, he placed the baseball back in its holder and hefted the cardboard box that held the juicer. He had three bags of organic produce in his Audi, but he hadn’t been able to carry in everything when he’d returned from lunch. He would have to go back down and get those later.
The trip to the thirty-second floor took less than a minute. Bracing the box against the penthouse’s door to free one of his hands, he knocked loudly. He didn’t hear any movement from inside, so he repeated the motion, this time with more force.
Nothing.
He dropped his head against the maple door. He’d thought about Amelia all day, almost to the point of obsession, which wasn’t like him at all. And now he felt like a kid who had waited in line
forever
for an ice cream cone only to drop it the minute he had it in his hands.
He stood there for a moment, wondering if he should take the juicer back downstairs or let himself into the penthouse and drop it off. If he waited to give it to her, he’d be able to witness her excitement when she saw it. If he let himself in, he could unpack the juicer, and she would have a nice surprise when she finally arrived.
He smiled at the thought of surprising her and quickly keyed in the code to open the door. The penthouse was designed in a large, open floor plan. The kitchen, dining, andliving areas flowed together, flanked on both sides by a bedroom and en suite bathroom.
Once inside, he made his way to the kitchen, which was separated from the dining area by a long granite bar. A matching island split the kitchen, and that’s where he unloaded the box.
Pulling a Swiss Army knife from the front pocket of his jeans, he sliced open the box and got to work unpacking the juicer. He’d just placed it on the island when he heard a high-pitched scream from behind him.
Startled, he spun around to see Amelia standing in the dining area wearing a fuzzy, pink robe. Her long hair was in soggy spirals around her face, her mouth was open in a big O, and her eyes were bugged out with surprise.
Shit.
She was here, and he’d obviously just scared her to death.
“It’s just me,” he said and then wanted to roll his eyes at the stupidity of that statement.
When she didn’t respond, he held up his arms like she was a police officer who’d just shouted, “hands up.” He rushed to explain. “I’m sorry. I knocked. Loudly. When you didn’t answer, I thought you weren’t here. So I let myself in. I wanted to surprise you—”
She’d clearly found her voice because she interrupted him. “I’d say you were successful,” she said dryly. “What are you doing here, Quinn?”
Dropping his arms back down to his sides, he leaned his butt against the island, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. “I brought you a gift. But now I have a much greater appreciation for the wise person who first realized that no good deed goes
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