The Romance Report (8 page)

Chapter Fifteen

  
After breakfast,
Quinn headed back to her apartment to do laundry. Indie and Sean planned to
spend the day shopping for a new wig for Shawna’s new routine. Quinn grabbed a
basket of colors and headed to the basement of the brownstone. She opened the
door to the small laundry room and saw Zach was already there.

“Oops. I’ll come back later,” Quinn said.

“You don’t need to do that. I tossed my load into
the dryer, so by the time your load is done washing, it will be free.”

“Cool. With just Sundays off, it’s my only day to
do laundry.”

“You want to go grab the cup of coffee I promised
while we wait?” Zach asked. He shut the door of the dryer, filled the coin
slots with quarters and hit start.

Quinn hesitated. She liked Zach, but she didn’t
want to give him the wrong idea.

“Come on. I need some caffeine to help get me
going this morning.”

“Sure,” Quinn relented. It was coffee, not
commitment she told herself.

They walked to Espresso Yourself. The place was
crowded, but Quinn managed to spot a vacant table in a far corner.

“You grab the table, and I’ll get us some coffee,”
Zach said.

Quinn maneuvered her way through the café to the
table and sat down. She heard her phone jingle in her purse. When she looked at
the screen, she saw an unfamiliar number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Quinn. It’s me, Doug, from the other day in
the grocery store. From Dr. Djos’ class. Remember?”

“Oh, hi!” Quinn said. “I remember. How are you?”

“Good. Listen, the reason I’m calling is I got
lucky and scored some last minute tickets to a show at the Altria and I wanted
you to come with me. It’s tonight. Do you want to go?”

“I’d love to go.”

“Awesome. I’ll pick you up at six, and we can get
some dinner beforehand. What’s your address?”

Quinn gave him her address. “I’ll see you tonight
at six. Bye, Doug.”

Zach set a cup of coffee down in front of her.
“What’s up?”

“Oh, a guy I went to college with called and wants
to take me to the theater tonight.”

“Guess we’ll have to postpone our Jackie Chan
movie fest,” Zach said.

“Oh, crud! I completely forgot about watching a
movie with you. I feel bad now,” Quinn said.

“You’ll have to bring me something you baked at
work to make it up to me,” Zach said. “No worries. We’ll do it another time.
I’m serious about the dessert from Hanrahan’s though. I read a review in the
paper the other day that said that whoever bakes the desserts is a genius.”

“I’ll definitely make you dessert. You read the
review? I can’t believe I even rated a mention. I’ve never even been to cooking
school.”

“Some people are born with a natural talent for
things. I can draw but can’t sing. My one sister has an amazing voice and could
have pursued it professionally, but she decided to be an attorney instead.
Susan said law feeds her body and music feeds her soul.”

“I’m kind of at a crossroads myself on what to do.
My uncle wants me to go to culinary school, but I’m not sure if I should. Both
my parents are journalists. I’ve been working towards following in their
footsteps since I was a teenager when I wrote my first story for the school
paper. Cooking has always been a hobby, but I never considered it a career.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I turned my hobby into
a career. My parents wanted me to be a veterinarian or a pharmacist. Boring.”

“Your parents are probably a little more
understanding than my mother. Anne Daniels is not known for her open-minded
acceptance.”

“Really? That surprises me considering how much
she’s traveled covering stories around the world. I’m kind of a fan of your
mom’s,” Zach admitted.

“Acceptance of others, yes. Acceptance of me
wavering off the path she’s laid out for me since birth, not so much.”

“Parents always have high expectations of their
children. It doesn’t mean they won’t still support your decision to do your own
thing. I followed my own path and I’m still my parent’s favorite son,” Zach
said.

“Aren’t you the only son? You told me you had two
sisters but didn’t mention brothers,” Quinn pointed out.

“Well, there’s that, but even so, I think my
parents are proud of me for making my own way. They worry about me, of course,
but once they realized I planned to make a go of my career, they decided to
make peace with it.”

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” Quinn said. “It’s
a huge step to completely rethink your career. Heck, my career in journalism
started off with a fizzle. I think about all the money my parents spent on
college and then I up and tell them, sorry mom and dad, I changed my mind. I’m
going to cook for a living.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. You have to do
what’s right for you. No one else can live your life for you, but you can’t
live your life for anyone else either.”

“That was mighty profound, neighbor.” Quinn tipped
her cup towards him in homage.

“Here’s to life choices. Can’t live with them.
Can’t live without them.” Zach raised his coffee cup in a toast.

“Here here!” Quinn clinked her cup against his and
laughed. “Thanks for being a sounding board.”

“You’re quite welcome. Any time you need to talk,
you know where to find me. Bowled over in the stairway by my pretty upstairs
neighbor.”

Quinn blushed at the compliment. “We’d better get
back and finish laundry. I’ve got to dig out something to wear to my date
tonight.”

Zach pushed back his chair and stood up. “Yeah.
I’m supposed to go watch the game with my buddy. I have a feeling he’s going to
invite Dawn, the girl his wife Cindy had me meet the other night for drinks.”

“I forgot to ask you how it went. Was she nice?”
Quinn followed Zach out of the café and they wandered towards home.

“She’s nice,” Zach said hesitantly.

“But?”

“She was pretty. Actually, she was very pretty,
but I don’t know. She didn’t have a lot of pizazz to her personality.”

“Pizazz?”

“It was like swimming in the shallow end of the
pool. No depth.”

“Ah. I can see how that might be a problem. A hot
girl whose nice, but not a lot going on upstairs. Every guy I know would love
to date her.”

“I’m not most guys. I would like to be able to
discuss something more than the color of her toenail polish over coffee the
next morning.”

Zach held the door to the brownstone open for
Quinn. “I think it’s good you don’t just look at the outside package. I’m
starting to learn that lesson myself.”

“A girl that doesn’t just want a hot guy in a
Speedo serving her margaritas on the beach? Be still my heart!” Zach joked.

“Hardy har har. For your information, no girl
wants a guy in a Speedo. That’s just wrong on so many levels.” Quinn made her
way down the stairs to the laundry. She looked over her shoulder. “I prefer my
men in a pair of faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Simple and classic.”

“Good to know.”

Chapter Sixteen

“No. No. No. No.” Quinn threw one outfit after
another onto her bed. “I don’t have anything to wear to the theater.”

“You have a whole closet of new clothes that Sean
gave you,” Indie pointed out. “Surely something in that monstrous pile will
do.”

“Nothing that says elegant, sophisticated, funny
and smart,” Quinn complained. She slid hangers aside and dug into the back of
her closet. “Aha! I’m wearing this.” She held out the black dress she’d worn on
her disastrous date with Tad. The drycleaner had performed a small miracle and
removed the eau de shrimp scent that had lingered.

“I thought you were looking for a new you, not old
Quinn.”

“That doesn’t mean I gave up everything black. The
little black dress is essential to every girl’s wardrobe. When in doubt, it
goes from boardroom to Broadway with a spritz of cologne and a sassy scarf,”
Quinn said in a perfect imitation of her mother’s voice.

“Okay, Stepford Girlfriend,” Indie mocked and
backed away with her hands held high. “I’m leaving on that note. Call me if you
don’t get home too late. If you don’t make it home at all, call me with the
juicy details tomorrow.”

“That is not on my agenda for this evening. I’m
looking for Mr. Right not Mr. Tonight Only, thank you very much.”

“Gotcha. Well, I’m heading over to Marty’s. We’re
going to write some code, watch a movie and stuff,” Indie said as she opened
the door to leave. “Do me a favor?”

“Yeah?”

“Relax and be yourself. I promise you that you’ll
have a much better time if you do.” Indie slipped through the door and closed
it behind her.

“Be myself. Ha! Like I know who I am at this point
in my life, Fat Panther,” Quinn said to the cat who had made his home on top of
the pile of clothes on her bed. “I thought I was a journalist. Clearly not. I
thought I had a hot guy who was romantic and sang beautiful songs to me while
strumming his guitar. Partly right, but turns out he was a first-class toad,
too. I don’t know who I am or what I want right now You know what Fat Panther?
I’m just throwing caution to the wind and going for broke. Whatever happens
tonight happens. If it is meant to be, it will.”

Fat Panther sat gazing at her with his large green
eyes. He twitched his white-tipped tail at her. “You don’t really care about
this at all, do you?” Quinn sighed. “I’m wearing the dress and the heels. Maybe
I’ll have better luck with them this time.”

Quinn showered and dried her hair, fluffing it
with her fingertips until it fell in chestnut waves around her shoulders. She
had splurged on some high-end makeup when she first landed her job at Under the
Radar. She lined her eyes with an olive shade which made her gray eyes stand
out. A light glaze of berry lip stain completed her look. Gazing at her
reflection, she was pleased to notice her arms were more defined from lifting
the large bags of flour at work. No turkey wing arms for her in the near
future. Quinn slipped on the dreaded Prada heels, but this time slipped some
foldable shoes into her bag.

She heard a light rap on her door, so she quickly
checked her makeup and hair one last time and hurried to answer. Doug was
outside with a single pink rose in his hand. Quinn invited him inside.

“I brought this for you,” Doug said and handed her
the rose. “Red seemed too bold. White said too Mommy. Pink seemed like a good
choice. It says I think you’re pretty and I want to date you, but I’m nervous
and don’t know what to say.”

Quinn smiled and took the rose. She pulled a
single stem vase out from one of her kitchen cabinets. “I think it’s a good
choice. Thank you.”

“So, this is your place.” Doug stuck his hands in
his pockets and wandered around the living room. “I like it.”

“I’m in the midst of redecorating. I haven’t
settled on a color yet.”

“Black and white go with everything, but then you
get the whole zebra thing. I like that you have the cool blue lamp and stuff. I
still have the post-college bachelor pad theme going. If my roommate had his
way, the whole place would be decorated in camouflage and beer posters.”

“I guess my decorating isn’t quite as bad as I
thought then,” Quinn joked. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Do you like Japanese food?”

“I do.”

“Great. I was a little nervous since it’s not for
everyone, but I remembered we all did sushi after one of our study breaks in
college and you recommended different things for everyone to try.”

“I can’t believe you remembered,” Quinn said.

“I have a confession to make,” Doug said. He held
the door open for Quinn. They made their way down the stairs to the front door.
“I had a bit of a crush on you back then.”

“Why didn’t you ask me out?”

“You were dating some guy on the lacrosse team who
will probably end up being a senator or somebody important. I’m just an average
guy from a small town in southern Virginia.”

“Well, he ended up being a first-class jerk, so he
lost my vote if he does run. I kind of like average guys from small towns.”

Doug flashed her a huge grin. With a flourish of
his hand, he waved to the small sedan in front of him. “Your chariot awaits,
madam.”

Doug drove them to Yoshimoto’s on Sandstone
Avenue. Quinn was inwardly pleased when Doug took her suggestions on new dishes
to try and he even recommended a white wine that he thought might go well with
their choices.

Quinn laughed at Doug’s stories of his middle
school students’ antics and she regaled him with stories of her travels with
Uncle Patrick.

Later, as they drove to the Altria for the
evening’s performance, Doug maneuvered through the city’s traffic while singing
cheesy karaoke tunes from the nineties. Quinn laughed so hard she hiccupped.

“Stop! You’re killing me,” Quinn giggled. “Oh my
gosh. Remember the time Tyler Owens ended up passed out and naked in the middle
of the field?”

“Yes!” Doug said. “He didn’t show his face for a
week afterwards, poor guy. I’m glad it wasn’t me. We had some crazy times,
didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said. She sobered slightly.
“Sometimes I wish I could go back and be that carefree. I don’t think I
realized how hard it was going to be to figure out life and career and
everything else after college. They should teach a class on that at the university.
How to Survive After Graduation 101.”

“Shoot,” Doug said. “Half of our class would have
flunked out. I’m lucky. I realized I’d picked the wrong major and switched to
education. Best decision I made.”

“I thought I’d chosen the right career with
journalism,” Quinn said with a touch of regret.

“Hey now. No heavy thoughts on the first date.
Rule number one of dating Doug. Date nights are for fun, not for deep
thoughts,” Doug commanded. He pulled into the theater’s parking lot.

“So you’re saying that you want shallow waters
from your women,” Quinn joked.

“I want my women to be puddles, not rivers,” Doug
shot back. “I like ‘em purty without a lot of stuffin’ in them thar heads.”

“Oh, Dougie, you’re so manly,” Quinn said in her
best imitation of Betty Boop.

“Thank you kindly, ma’am. I aim to please,” Doug
said in a cowboy drawl.

“Maybe we should both be on stage tonight with the
rest of the actors because that was a first class performance.”
 

“Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“I’m having fun,” Quinn said. They made their way
quickly to their seats. The stage lights flashed to signal the show would begin
soon.

“I am, too,” Doug whispered. He reached over and
grabbed her hand. Quinn glanced down, smiled and squeezed his hand.

The lights lowered in the theater and the curtain
rose. It was show time.