Chirp(97)

A vivid image of Andrew popped into her head. He could kiss and burn her to the ground in a split second. But when Andy moved on, Quinn swore off men for a while. Until Kevin. She hadn’t thought of him in a long time, and wondered why these former lovers came to mind. Maybe because she was about to be off the market, and a trip down memory lane made it that much sweeter. After devoting three years to Kevin, he’d dumped her for a twenty-year-old yoga instructor. Girls with the flexibility of a Slinky got a man’s attention.

Quinn cast a loving look at Brad while he studied the menu. An attorney with a prestigious firm, no doubt he’d make partner someday. Quinn’s mother had been quick to point out that Brad’s condo near the university campus was in a more upscale location than Quinn’s apartment. Yes, Brad was the complete package in her mother’s eyes.

He shot hoops with his buddies on Sunday afternoons and took part in charity events, but he also treated every dime as if it were the last one he’d get. No, not perfect, but close.

Smiling, Brad tilted the menu down and peered over it. “What are you having? Oh, never mind. You always get the same thing.” He closed the folder, placed it on the table, and leaned in close. “But if you want to try something new, go for it. Tonight the sky’s the limit. You should even save room for that dessert you love so much.”

Meringue and caramel floating in a pool of crème Anglaise. The image made her mouth water. Could the night be more perfect? Candlelight shimmered and reflected off the crystal chandeliers. Soft music drifted through the room, carrying wonderful aromas on every note. Red roses in silver vases sat on tables draped in black satin. Yes, there was romance in the air and a ring in Brad’s pocket.

The waiter brought wine and took their orders. Brad rattled off the choices in perfect French. Perhaps it would be hotter if she got him to recite food items during sex, because that was the one department in which he needed help. He’d become more interested in his own satisfaction than hers. But she’d never find a man who looked more handsome in a suit, or one with better grooming. Every hair in place. Coal-black, with a natural wave skimming his forehead, just right. With his square jaw and blue eyes, if he donned a cape, he might leap tall buildings.

When she pictured their children—because she wanted kids—they got his looks and her personality. Her original plan: married by thirty, two little ones by thirty-five. She’d given it her best shot with Andrew and Kevin. But as the saying goes, third time’s a charm, and with the family curse of early menopause looming, an engagement couldn’t happen at a better time.

Questions jumped in her brain. Location of the ceremony? What china pattern? Where would they live? Well, that was easy. Since her apartment was a rental, his condo was the only choice. It wasn’t as convenient to her work, but she submitted her newspaper column electronically, so fighting traffic one day a week when she went to the office wouldn’t be a big deal.

The waiter returned with their food. Quinn took her first bite and wondered if she should mention the brochure she’d seen in Brad’s open briefcase. She hadn’t snooped; it had been in plain view. New York City. She’d never been but wanted to go, and said as much when the subject of vacations came up at the last Christmas party. She scolded herself for not giving him enough credit in the romance department. Here she was at her favorite restaurant. The one he never chose because of the expense, and he planned a honeymoon in the Big Apple. She forked a spear of steamed asparagus dripping with butter.

He swirled the wine in his glass as if judging it, then focused on her again. “Have I told you how nice you look tonight?” Holding her gaze for a moment, he sipped the Cabernet Sauvignon.

“No. But thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” How odd he was dishing out compliments, which convinced her he was putting forth extra effort to make this night special.

“Is that a new dress?”

“Yes. I splurged.”

As much as she appreciated the pleasantries, conversation wasn’t going the way she’d imagined, but he was probably nervous. She waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He poked another bite into his mouth and chewed it, as if making sure he got his money’s worth. Slumping in the chair, she reassured herself. No need to rush things. Let him take his time. It’d already been 1,176 days since their first date, so what were a few more minutes?

Holding his fork in midair, he bobbed it up and down to punctuate his question. “What are you working on?”

Unbelievable. He never asked about her articles. Never even read her column. This was an opportunity to steer him in the right direction. “Since Valentine’s is coming up, I’m doing a piece on love, romance, and happily ever after.” Perfect. What better segue into a proposal?

Her mind raced. Since he’d brought up dessert, perhaps he’d made arrangements to have the ring hidden in a pastry? So unlike him, but so creative. Her heart fluttered. The anticipation was killing her, so she concentrated on less talking and more eating.

Brad must have had the same idea because he gave full attention to his food.

Once they’d finished, the waiter came to take their plates and asked for dessert choices. Quinn opened her mouth to order, but Brad held up his hand. “Can you give us a few minutes?”

“Yes, sir. Signal when you’re ready.”

Alone again, Brad stared into Quinn’s eyes. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. This was it. The moment she’d waited for. The one to erase the years she’d wasted on Andrew and Kevin and all the other toads. She sat up straight, licked her lips, and gazed back at Brad, waiting for the question.