Gillian's Do-Over (4 page)

“Quinn asked me the same question.” Gillian’s foot bounced nervously against the table leg. “Do you think it’s possible I migh
t actually find a friend online? A male friend?”

“
Not if you don’t put yourself out there.” Lauren grinned mischievously. “Maybe even a friend with benefits, although you’d have to meet him in person for that.”

Gillian’s cheeks felt fiery. “I wasn’t thinking
that
. Maybe just someone to talk to when it’s too cold and blustery to go for a walk. That sort of thing.”

“Expand your horizons,
Gilly. Lots of people are finding their sweethearts online these days. You’ve been alone too long.”

She shook her head. “Not that long. Quinn’s only been out of the house a few years.”

“What you mean is, he’s not here to give you an excuse
not
to date. Admit it. After you gave Owen the heave-ho, you haven’t given any men a chance to get to know you. You’ve been alone a
long
time. You need to jump back into that particular swimming hole. You’re still young. Stop acting like you wouldn’t want a man to warm your toes at night.”

“I’m not thirty anymore, Lauren.”

“So what? You certainly don’t look old. You’ve still got a decent figure. Lots of women your age and older get out and about. And you might find someone you really like, maybe even love. ’Sides, you wouldn’t have to marry him. Lots of couples just bounce from his bed to her bed, enjoying each other’s company, having good sex, no strings attached.”

“I’m not sure I could do that.”

“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t be discriminating. I’ll bet Quinn would check out anyone you decided to date.”

“He did say that.” Gillian squirmed in her seat. “If I’m not looking so old, why haven’t men asked me out already?” She gazed down at her left hand. No sign of her wedding ring there.

“Maybe you were telling them you weren’t interested. Not so much with words. Your
I’m-an-independent-woman-don’t-mess-with-me
vibes. What man is going to try, if you’ve already implied you aren’t interested?”

“Did
I do that?”

Lauren patted Gillian’s hand. “Just get on with it.
It’s do-over time. Get back to those men on the singles site. Being there means you’re available. Knowing that, I’ll bet lots of men will come around.” Lauren refilled her cup. “You probably won’t have to say it. Just act it. You know, that you’re interested, open to possibilities.”

Gillian slid her tongue against her teeth. “It’s been such a long time.”

“Which means it’s time you took your life back, Gilly. What I said last night.”

After Lauren left, Gillian finished the laundry, placed the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher and concentrated on picking up the rest of the house, continuing to muse on what Lauren had said. Had she really been so prickly no man who might have been interested even
tried? That’s how she’d felt, right after the divorce. Maybe she
had
placed her son’s needs foremost.

A male friend might be nice. Someone her own age, perhaps with similar interests. The
“with privileges” part, she wasn’t so sure about, though the idea of someone like Matt Gordon as a friend sent a buzz of anticipation through her that she didn’t expect.

But he was married. She’d seen the glint of gold on his left hand. No way was she going to
encourage another man to do what Owen had done.

Two days later Quinn hugged Gillian when he exited the airport security area. “Is it too late for dinner? My flight was delayed.”

“No. I wasn’t sure when you’d be here, so I went with soup. It’s in the crockpot. I’ll start the muffins as soon as we get home.” They walked into the parking garage.

“Nicholas Talmadge fired me,” she said before they’d driven ten minutes. So much for telling Quinn over an after-dinner drink.

“What?” Her son star
ed at her.

“On Tuesday. After I questioned having to let more people go.” She glanced sidelong at Quinn before picking up speed again to stay with the traffic. “I’m kind of glad.”

“You’ve worked there forever.”

She nodded. “But he was becoming harder to deal with
, and you know how I hate to fire people. It was so difficult going into the office every day these past few weeks, worried that he was going to give another person the thumbs down and slap another file on my desk.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Look for another job, I guess.”

“You don’t sound all that enthusiastic.”

“The economy isn’t that great. After beating Nick to a pulp in the basement the last few days—”

“My old clown?” Quinn interrupted with a
bark of laughter.

“Yes. I’ve spent most of two days down there.
I found my old painting supplies. Cleaning closets, making the family room look a bit less like an exercise gym. As of yesterday, that old clown is looking pretty bruised. I’m not sure I can blow him back up again without him tearing along a seam and completely giving up the ghost.” She giggled. “It did feel good to hit him, though.”

“What did you tell Nic
k when he let you go?”

“I’m not sure I said anything. I don’t remember much,
after he said, ‘you’re fired.’ He seemed to take great pleasure in being The Donald.” She turned into the driveway. “Here we are. You said you wanted to talk. Tell me something I want to hear, like when you and Bianca are getting married.”

“Give me a minute.”
Quinn hauled his suitcase into his room and returned to the kitchen.

He
sat down and reached for the soup tureen after motioning for her to join him.

She studied her son. He looked so serious, so unlike his happy-go-lucky self. “Something’s on your mind. What is it?”

“We think Bianca’s pregnant.”

Gillian’s heart seemed to stop. “You think? Don’t you know?”

“She was going to take a pregnancy test this weekend.” Quinn spooned soup into his bowl and then into his mother’s. She handed him the basket holding the corn muffins. “We had a big fight about it.”

“You don’t want children?”

“It’s Bianca who’s wavering. She’s not sure she wants one
now
.” He set down his soup spoon. “We’re moving back here. Both of us. The reason I came up this weekend was to meet with my new boss and sign the papers. I’ve been hired on as manager at that big new place that overlooks Lake Washington, the Pacific West Hotel. Bianca’s coming up on Monday to talk to two different firms about a job. If they don’t pan out, she’s going to try to get on at the district attorney’s office.”

Gillian took a too-large sip of her soup and sputtered. She wiped her mouth. “She doesn’t want a baby to mess up her job prospects here. Is that
it?” Babies were not a convenience for committed professional women. Wasn’t that why she’d opted to stay home when she’d been married to Owen? Besides wanting to be Quinn’s full-time mother?

Her son nodded.

“Is Bianca wavering because you two aren’t married?”
Why
hadn’t she encouraged them? Because she didn’t know the woman that well? She’d never interfered in Quinn’s dating life. Well, almost never. That awful girl he’d been so enamored of four years earlier came to mind. A selfish diva, always expecting Quinn to do everything she wanted, never giving him a chance to say or do what
he
wanted. And the young woman’s comment that Gillian didn’t know how to dress still rankled. She’d always worn outfits appropriate for work. So what if she’d been in grubs both times Quinn had brought the girl to the house? But he hadn’t called first and she’d been working in the garden, now sadly neglected. Before she’d let it go to rack and ruin. What was Quinn saying?

“… and she thinks if she
mentions she’s pregnant in the interview, that she will be needing time off for maternity leave, they won’t hire her. She’s serious about getting established, Mom. Taking this job, and me wanting to move back home, didn’t exactly come at a good time for her. That’s mostly what we fought about. That and getting married.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has this big case right now. That’s why she didn’t come with me this weekend. She has to be ready to represent the client. She’s first chair. You know what that means, right?”

“It means she takes the
lead with questioning?”

“Right. It’s her first big case, not just one of those little dorky ones. And she’s been really tense. She may stay in Santa Monica until it’s over, even if I’m already up here.” He was twisting his napkin tightly. “Then, when she thought maybe she was pregnant
… well, it kind of threw her.”

“Why d
oes she think she’s pregnant when she hasn’t even taken a test? Nausea? No period?”

“She’s late, and she says she’s
never
late.”

“S
tress can do that. Maybe she’s not pregnant at all.”

“She’d be thrilled if that was the case.”

Gillian frowned.

“It’s not that she doesn’t want kids, Mom. It’s just
… the timing is all wrong right now.”

“And you’re not married
.” She couldn’t help wanting to pinch her nose, her usual method of preventing tears from cascading down her cheeks. Instead, she stood up and reached for her son. “Let me give you a big hug. This must be very hard for you.”

“It is. I wish you knew her better. You’d like her if you did. You two are a lot alike.”

Gillian chuckled. “Kind of hard to know someone who doesn’t live close.” She stroked her son’s cheek then brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “She’s so much better educated than me, hon. I’m sure I’d bore her to tears. But I’m thrilled you’re moving back to Seattle.” Would Bianca move? She had to think positively, for Quinn’s sake. “When Bianca joins you, that will give me a chance to get to know her. Before you get married.”

She sauntered into the kitchen and pulled out the apple pie she’d made and held it up for him to see. Quinn’s favorite dessert. “I suppose you want a dollop of vanilla ice cream on your pie?”

He grinned. “Don’t I always?”

She watched him dig into his piece. She suspected his grin belied his worry. How committed to Bianca was he? They had yet to set a wedding date. At first, Gillian had suspected that had much to do with Bianca’s work schedule. But was there more to the young couple’s hesitation? They’d been living together for going on two years
now.

Her
father would have had a fit had she done that. But he hadn’t known she was spending more time in Owen’s apartment than in her own. Or perhaps her father had suspected and chosen not to say anything. After all, Quinn was born a full month short of the requisite nine months after her wedding. Her parents hadn’t said a word to her when she’d presented them with her eight-pound baby, far too large to be considered premature. Gillian blushed, remembering how she’d worried about accusations, especially from her dad, but he’d said nothing. Instead, he’d reached for his new grandson and cuddled him close, his eyes full.

She’d hoped Quinn would find a soul mate, and he seemed to have done that. But Bianca was
so
work oriented. Gillian shook her head.
Well, so am I!
At least she had been until Nick fired her. Did Quinn really want to be a father—before he was a husband? He hadn’t answered her question. Was that telling, or simply a less important concern than Bianca being so tied up with her big court case and then Quinn taking a new job, too—the way he described it, an opportunity he’d been waiting for—in Seattle? But now wasn’t the time to revisit the issue of the baby. Assuming there was one.

“Your ice cream is melting, Mom.” Quinn’s comment brought her back to the reality of the evening.

Gillian glanced down. “You’re right. Woolgathering. Sorry.” She took a quick bite of the pie. “What do you want to talk about now?”

He smiled. “Have you logged onto that website for singles again?”

“Not since the first time.” Her spoon pinged against the side of her bowl. “Did you know one of those men was married? He admitted it, even though it’s supposed to be a site for
singles
. That proves my point—you can never trust people you meet online.”

Quinn laughed out loud. “Thanks for that, Mom.
It’s how I met Bianca.”

Her hands flew up to her mouth. “Oh. I’m sorry, dear. I forgot. You know I didn’t mean
you
. I just meant older people.”

“Right.” He chuckled.

Quinn stood up, took his empty dish to the sink and pointed to her home office, where she’d moved her laptop.

Certain he was going to check the singles site
when he booted up the machine, Gillian objected, “Quinn, really. I couldn’t possibly be attracted to any of those people.”

But her son had already logged on.
He must have seen the little post-it on the bottom of her monitor. Quinn exclaimed “Wow! You’ve got eighteen more lookers—three with notes.” Gillian read the first message.