“Wasn’t he supposed to drive you back from Lake Geneva? The guy I saw, who walked past our window, wasn’t wearing khakis. What’s going on? I have to admit, one glimpse of the stranger’s jeans made me a little hot. What a great pair of legs. Who is he?”
Sadie parked her bike against the wall. She smiled as she glanced at the threadbare pink velvet couch and tangerine loveseat in the living room. Home. “A long story. Can I explain it to you later? I need a shower, desperately.”
“Sure. But about the shower. It’ll have to be a cold one. The hot water heater is busted. I called the manager. It won’t get replaced until Monday.”
“Such is life. Still glad to be in Chicago.” Sadie headed toward her bedroom, dragging the duffel on the tile floor. “Any other news I should know about?”
Ellen hesitated. “Well. I have one big announcement. I got a job at the Field Museum.”
Sadie threw her bags on the bare mattress in the postage stamp-sized room and turned around. “Seriously? Doing what?”
“Yep. Until the end of summer, I’ll be playing lackey for the director of exhibits. But once the semester starts I’ll be working as a part-time research assistant for the curator of the Mummy exhibit. By next year it could turn into a full-time position. If it goes well.”
Sadie hugged her. “Congratulations. I hope some of your luck rubs off on me. I need to call Frank. See if my dang advisor has any job leads. If not I can go down Damen and knock on doors. The Cupcake Factory might need help. Desserts are in my blood. Might hold me over until I’m done with my thesis.”
“So, how long are you going keep me in suspense?” Ellen went into the linen closet, pulled out a pile of sheets. “Who’s the long-legged guy with the jeans and work boots? I can’t wait until later. I have to leave soon to meet my study group on campus.”
“We met at the diner. He’s a contractor slash renovator. His name is Quinn Laughton. He was working on the Wrigley mansion across the lake.”
“Quinn Laughton. Sounds sexy. Is he from Chicago?”
“Yes,” Sadie said, but paused. It hadn’t occurred to her that Quinn might be from anywhere other than Chicago. How did she come to make that assumption? She hadn’t bothered to ask Quinn a lot of questions. She blamed her ignorance on great sex. At dinner she’d drill him for basic stats. “He’s sort of unique.”
“Unique? Sounds titillating. Glad to have you back. And without Bryan. I didn’t trust that guy. Too perfect.”
“Yeah. A perfect whack job. Quinn’s easygoing. Kind of down-to-earth. With him, what you see is what you get. He’s helping my dad out with the diner.”
“Nice.” Ellen retrieved hangers from Sadie’s closet. “Have to say it took all my will power not to move into this bedroom after Angie left. I hope I don’t have to sublet your room again, but if I do, I’m taking this room and subletting my own. You have the best light coming in from the south-facing parking lot.”
“Maybe more sunshine. But barely enough space. I regularly trip over my bed to get to my dresser.”
“Someday, roomie. We’ll look back on these years and want to re-live the ramen noodle and macaroni and cheese days while we’re sipping champagne and eating caviar.”
“Not me. I’m not into fish eggs. But it would be nice to be able to have the bathroom to myself. And hot water.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn punched in the four-digit security code to open the underground parking garage below the cover of Wacker Drive. He never liked parking too close to the Wrigley Building, too much traffic off of Michigan Avenue. Every time he had parked on the side streets, he’d come out and find another ding on one of his car doors. All his cars had dents, he could count how many meetings he’d had with Jake from counting his body shop appointments.
After slipping the bikini top back onto the Jeep, he texted Jake to tell him he was on the way to the
Sadie parked her bike against the wall. She smiled as she glanced at the threadbare pink velvet couch and tangerine loveseat in the living room. Home. “A long story. Can I explain it to you later? I need a shower, desperately.”
“Sure. But about the shower. It’ll have to be a cold one. The hot water heater is busted. I called the manager. It won’t get replaced until Monday.”
“Such is life. Still glad to be in Chicago.” Sadie headed toward her bedroom, dragging the duffel on the tile floor. “Any other news I should know about?”
Ellen hesitated. “Well. I have one big announcement. I got a job at the Field Museum.”
Sadie threw her bags on the bare mattress in the postage stamp-sized room and turned around. “Seriously? Doing what?”
“Yep. Until the end of summer, I’ll be playing lackey for the director of exhibits. But once the semester starts I’ll be working as a part-time research assistant for the curator of the Mummy exhibit. By next year it could turn into a full-time position. If it goes well.”
Sadie hugged her. “Congratulations. I hope some of your luck rubs off on me. I need to call Frank. See if my dang advisor has any job leads. If not I can go down Damen and knock on doors. The Cupcake Factory might need help. Desserts are in my blood. Might hold me over until I’m done with my thesis.”
“So, how long are you going keep me in suspense?” Ellen went into the linen closet, pulled out a pile of sheets. “Who’s the long-legged guy with the jeans and work boots? I can’t wait until later. I have to leave soon to meet my study group on campus.”
“We met at the diner. He’s a contractor slash renovator. His name is Quinn Laughton. He was working on the Wrigley mansion across the lake.”
“Quinn Laughton. Sounds sexy. Is he from Chicago?”
“Yes,” Sadie said, but paused. It hadn’t occurred to her that Quinn might be from anywhere other than Chicago. How did she come to make that assumption? She hadn’t bothered to ask Quinn a lot of questions. She blamed her ignorance on great sex. At dinner she’d drill him for basic stats. “He’s sort of unique.”
“Unique? Sounds titillating. Glad to have you back. And without Bryan. I didn’t trust that guy. Too perfect.”
“Yeah. A perfect whack job. Quinn’s easygoing. Kind of down-to-earth. With him, what you see is what you get. He’s helping my dad out with the diner.”
“Nice.” Ellen retrieved hangers from Sadie’s closet. “Have to say it took all my will power not to move into this bedroom after Angie left. I hope I don’t have to sublet your room again, but if I do, I’m taking this room and subletting my own. You have the best light coming in from the south-facing parking lot.”
“Maybe more sunshine. But barely enough space. I regularly trip over my bed to get to my dresser.”
“Someday, roomie. We’ll look back on these years and want to re-live the ramen noodle and macaroni and cheese days while we’re sipping champagne and eating caviar.”
“Not me. I’m not into fish eggs. But it would be nice to be able to have the bathroom to myself. And hot water.”
Chapter Twelve
Quinn punched in the four-digit security code to open the underground parking garage below the cover of Wacker Drive. He never liked parking too close to the Wrigley Building, too much traffic off of Michigan Avenue. Every time he had parked on the side streets, he’d come out and find another ding on one of his car doors. All his cars had dents, he could count how many meetings he’d had with Jake from counting his body shop appointments.
After slipping the bikini top back onto the Jeep, he texted Jake to tell him he was on the way to the
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