Quinn sipped his coffee, thankful to have a friend like Ethan. Feeling a bit more awake, he went into the kitchen and started cracking some eggs into a bowl. Just as he reached for the paprika bottle, he was startled by an agitated pounding at his front door. He was so out of it he didn’t even look through the peephole before opening up. Suddenly, Imaani was in his arms.
“Hey, hey, what happened?” he asked, tenderly holding her as she sobbed against his chest. “Is everything–is Natasha okay? What about Clay?” She wept harder at the mention of her husband’s name, and Quinn immediately considered the worst. “Oh my god, Imaani, is he…”
“He’s fucking his aide,” she gasped. Quinn was flabbergasted.
“He’s–what?”
“He told me he was going to hang out with his college buddy last night and spend the night at his place. Then he sent me a text that clearly wasn’t for me,” she pulled away from Quinn and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I went out this morning and saw them together.” Quinn grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her face, still stunned by what she was telling him.
“I can’t believe this,” he finally responded. “But it’s a Sunday morning. Wouldn’t he be expecting you at home by now?”
“Not bloody likely,” Imaani all but sneered. “I slashed three of his tires while I was leaving.” Quinn tried to suppress a smile as she took off her winter coat and handed it to him, and then headed into the kitchen following the aroma of fresh coffee. Imaani opened the cupboard and helped herself to a mug.
“They say insurance will cover it if all four of your tires are slashed, but not if it’s just three. So it’s gonna cost that bas–”
“It’ll cost him what?” Quinn called back, shutting the coat closet. When he didn’t hear a response, he went back to the kitchen to witness Imaani and Fiona standing a few feet apart and staring at each other, the latter clad only in his button-down shirt.
Putain de bordel de merde, Quinn cursed in his mind as he covered his face with his hands. It briefly occurred to him he’d forgotten Fiona was there at all when he’d set eyes on Imaani at the door.
“Red, I’m so sorry,” Imaani said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be alone. I mean, I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.” She looked at the carton of eggs sitting by the mixing bowl and the frying pan on the stove.
“Well, not really,” Fiona admitted. “We just met last night.” Imaani glanced at Quinn in such a way that he felt like he and not Clay had been the one cheating on her.
“No, of course,” she said, shaking her head and putting her mug back in the cupboard. “Which is to be expected when I just told you this week–excuse me.” Imaani shut the cabinet and deked around Quinn toward the front door.
“Imaani, wait,” he protested in the hallway as Fiona went back into the bedroom to find her clothes.
“No, Red, I really am sorry,” she said, pushing open the closet and grabbing her coat. “I was wrong to think you’d be available to me when I’d made my choice and laid down the law in such a firm way the other day. This is unfair to you.”
Quinn tried to grab her arm, flustered at how he was unable to form a sentence when he most needed to. She wriggled out of his grasp and turned her face away from him, thrusting her arms into her jacket while already on the move.
Imaani shut the door behind her a little harder than she’d meant to. She darted down the hallway, sure that she could take off in her car before Quinn was able to bundle up enough to follow her. A lump formed in her throat and she brushed her hands across her eyes as she sped down the stairwell to the parking lot.
***********
Quinn went out of his mind for the rest of Sunday morning, barely remembering he had to show up to his classes at the music academy. He robotically headed back into his kitchen after failing to stop Imaani from leaving, and finished making the scrambled eggs he’d started earlier for Fiona.
“So she’s the special one, huh?” Fiona finally asked after emerging from the shower and sitting down at the table with him. “I told you this last night, Quinn, but I’m saying it again because I don’t think you remember much. I’m on the rebound too and I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I’m not put off by another woman bursting in on us.”
“At least one of us isn’t,” Quinn said almost bitterly. “I’m sorry. I mean, I was trying to make it click with you. And from what little I recall, I think we almost succeeded.” Fiona grinned as she speared some eggs on her fork.
“But I’m stupidly in love with the woman who just ran out of here,” Quinn continued, “and I’m sitting here eating breakfast with you while wracking my brain as to where I could possibly find her. So as you can see, I’m a world-class asshole.”
“I’m in commerce, Quinn,” Fiona countered. “I work with a team of world-class assholes every day and I’m telling you, you cannot imagine how far you are from their league. You’d have to commit a string of crimes just to get to their level of assholery.” Quinn eyed her mock warily, causing her to explode in giggles.
She would be too easy to fall for, he caught himself contemplating as he took in Fiona’s musical laughter. Her beauty and charm seemed augmented from the night before, even when that’s not how the cold light of day usually painted a one-night stand. What the hell’s wrong with me that the hotness of a woman like this isn’t hitting the way it used to?
“So what’s the problem?” Fiona asked. Quinn snapped out of his pensiveness and looked up at her, realizing he’d been holding his fork in midair for far too long. He quickly stuffed it in his mouth as she snorted again. “Not the eggs, you goof. Imaani. Are you exes or something?”
“No, we’re never-wases,” Quinn replied. “She’s married.”
“And it looks like she may be divorced soon.”
“She won’t leave him,” Quinn shook his head. “What if this is a one-off and they patch things up? He’s a big deal at City Hall and they have a teenage daughter together. She’s not going to torpedo that life for a struggling music teacher.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Fiona said matter-of-factly. “I’ll tell you one thing, Quinn. Any woman who justifies staying in a disloyal relationship for the material comfort she thinks it will bring her, will end up paying much more for that comfort than if she’d left and found her own way. They don’t understand there are worse ways to pay for something than with money.”
“I have nothing to offer her.” Speaking those words out loud felt to Quinn like he was cementing his working-class station in life compared to what Clay had achieved. He felt like he was confirming he was a lesser man.
“She’ll never have to worry about you stepping out on her,” Fiona argued. “Maybe you’re right and they’ll work it out. But there’s a lot to be said for falling in love with a friend, or so I’ve heard. Haven’t been lucky enough to have experienced it, though.” She shrugged and took her plate to the sink to wash. Neither of them spoke until she reached for a dish towel to dry her hands.
“You’re pretty wise for someone who can pull off a little black dress like that,” Quinn finally said. Fiona grinned. “I’m hoping you’re wise enough to tell me how we made it back here last night.”