Part 3
Six months. Six long, silent months. Payton had almost convinced herself that Quinn had vanished from the face of the earth. They’d shared a whirlwind summer, a connection that felt like a lightning strike, then… radio silence. She’d tried to rationalise it, to understand, but the gnawing uncertainty had been a constant companion. She poured all her confusion and longing into her writing, ironically making her new novel her most successful. Hence, her presence in London for a book signing.
Her phone buzzed relentlessly as she personalised a copy for a young fan. Quinn’s name flashed across the screen. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she nearly fumbled the pen, ink threatening to stain the crisp pages. She forced herself to focus, signing with a shaky hand, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. She couldn’t answer. Not now, not with a queue of expectant readers stretching across the bookstore.
Finally, after an eternity, the last book was signed, and the previous fan thanked Payton. Payton retreated to a quiet corner, her fingers trembling as she pressed redialled Quinn’s number.
“Hey, Payton,” his instantly familiar voice washed over her like a warm wave. It was deeper, somehow huskier, than she remembered.
“Quinn, how are you?” she managed, her voice a little breathless.
“I’m terrific; look, I’m in London this weekend. Is there any chance you could get to London?”
Payton almost laughed. The universe had a wicked sense of humour. “I’m already in London.”
There was a beat of silence, then a delighted chuckle. “Great! Serendipity. Payton’s mind raced. What was he implying? Was this happening? She tightened her grip on the phone.
“Okay, I’m staying at the Winter’s Hotel, but I only have my room until tomorrow morning.”
“That’s fine,” he said bolder. You could stay with me in my hotel. There’s no funny business, I promise,” he added; he laughed a genuine, warm sound that melted the ice around her heart. “I’ve got so much to tell you.”
The simple statement sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. What had he been doing? Where had he been? Why hadn’t he called?
“I’d love to,” she replied, her voice softening. Well, it wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a room before
“I get in at 6 pm tonight. I’ll see you at 8.”
“Great, see you then.
The connection broke, leaving Payton staring at her phone. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions: disbelief, excitement, apprehension, and a lingering trace of hurt. Six months. Could she pick up where they left off?
The rest of the afternoon flew by in a blur. She finished her book signing events, packed her things, and returned to her hotel; as she showered and got ready, she debated what to wear. Casual? Sexy? Neutral? Ultimately, she opted for a simple black dress, comfortable but elegant, and a pair of understated heels.
Quinn arrived at his hotel, showered, ordered service for 8:30, and spoke to Edan and April, telling them he was seeing Payton and said to them that he was going to ask her to be with him he had fallen in love with and wanted to marry her Quinn had never wanted to be married had been a happy bachelor for all this time, but Payton had ignited something in him. April was ecstatic
8:30 and Payton called Quinn; she was just pulling up in the taxi; he told her he would be there to greet her
Quinn stood there, taller and more handsome than she remembered. His dark, wavy hair was a little longer, falling rakishly across his forehead. His eyes, the same warm hazel she remembered, crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
“Payton,” he breathed, his voice low and husky. “It’s so good to see you.” Taking her in his arms, he kissed her. The press knew Quinn was at The Oster Hotel but got a great shot of him with Payton. They headed up to his suite. The air in his suite seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
He didn’t waste any time. He took her hands in his, sending a familiar jolt of electricity through her. “I owe you an explanation,” he said, his gaze earnest. “A long one.”
And as he began to speak, Payton knew that whatever he was about to tell her would change everything. After six months of silence, the unanswered questions, and the gnawing doubts – she was finally about to get some answers. The night had just begun. She was about to become more than a welcome friend.
Thank You for Reading
Deborah C. Langley
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