25. QUINN
25
QUINN
“I’m sorry, Miss Kingsley, but my hands are tied here. There’s not much we can do for you,” the director of Talent Plus agency informs me.
“I just don’t understand. Isn’t this what you’re supposed to do? Rehabilitate people’s image?” I’m at my wit's end.
She presses her lips together, and I can tell she feels sorry for me. “In your case, it’s going to be exceptionally difficult. The claims made against you are about your character, and it’s almost impossible to counter them, especially as a woman in the industry.”
This is the fourth meeting I’ve had in the last week with a PR agent—all of them having the same result.
“But they’re baseless claims.” I run a hand through my hair. “You know this, right?”
She nods. “But that doesn’t change the fact that your engagement has been mostly negative in the last few weeks. Any brand that chooses to work with you will see that first. I’m sure you’ve noticed that already.”
She’s right. My inbox was full of unreplied emails. Usually, I would have gotten a few sponsorships or brand deals by now, but even the brands that worked with me regularly were ghosting me.
“There has to be something you can do.” My tone takes on a hint of desperation. “I was told that you’re the best in the business, and I’m willing to pay whatever price you ask.”
She considers my words for a moment, adjusting her glasses. “Well, there is perhaps one way we can still spin this in your favor.”
“Tell me.”
“You could release a statement about how the owner of the vineyard lured you into this, and you were manipulated. It’s believable, given your age gap, and I think you might be able to get enough sympathy to get the public on your side again.”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. I would never cheapen what we had with claims like that.
Even if it came at the cost of my career.
She straightens her back. “Well, then, Miss Kingsley, I am afraid there isn’t anything else that I can help you with.”
I leave the meeting with a bitter taste in my mouth. My vacation daze had all but faded now, and the reality had begun to fully sink in.
My future looked bleak. Career prospects? Rapidly diminishing. Love life? Never has been worse.
It makes it all the worse that even experts refuse to help me sort this mess out. It’s too much for me, and on the drive back, I decide I need to take a break from social media.
As I get home, I settle in front of my camera.
“Hey, guys, just a little update. I’ve decided to step back from the screen for a bit. It’s a hard decision for me, since this is how I make my living. But I hope the few of you who are still in my corner understand that I have to do this for my health. I’ll miss you, but for now, this is me signing off.”
There’re tears in my eyes as I upload the video. Reactions start coming in immediately, but I sign out and delete my app, not having the courage to even look.
This isn’t what I thought would happen after my trip to Italy. Not at all.
Later that evening, Laurie finds me in my apartment, snuggled up on my sofa with a large tub of ice cream in my hands.
Knowing how much of a wreck I am, she’d made a copy of my apartment key and makes sure to drop by every now and then to check up on me. It has proven to be useful more than once.
She’ll hold my hand as I cry to her most times she visits.
“When was the last time you dressed up nice?” Her voice from the doorway startles me. I didn’t even notice her come in.
I glance down to my pajamas, which are stained.
“It’s been a minute.”
“Exactly.” She scoots over next to me. “It’s like you’re not even trying anymore, and it pains me to see you like this.”
I stuff my mouth with another spoonful of ice cream.
“This has to end, Quinn. You’ve been back weeks now and something needs to change. I’m staging an intervention. You need to clean up because we are going out tonight.”
She snatches the ice cream away from my hands.
“Hey, I was eating that.”
“That should be the least of your concerns. Right now, the only thing that should be on your mind is a night of drinks and dancing.”
“I’ll pass.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
She’s looking at me with an intensity I’ve rarely seen from her before, and I can tell she means business.
Slowly, I peel myself off the couch.
“That’s more like it.” Laurie grins. “Now go get ready. We have reservations for eight.”
We arrive at a quaint little restaurant downtown. It’s a Saturday night, and I know Laurie expects us to go clubbing afterward. I’m already thinking of excuses to bail out early.
“I think it’s a good decision for you to take a break from social media.” She nods. “It’s clearly a toxic place for you right now, and staying on there isn’t doing you any favors.”
“If only that was the only thing.” I sigh.
The waiter pours us both a glass of wine, but even looking at it is making me feel queasy.
It reminds me too much of Enzo.
“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Her voice softens.
“Constantly,” I admit, “It’s gotten to a degree where I’m asking myself if it's worth the trip down there to ask him to give me closure, once and for all.”
“Yeah, don’t do that. It’s just fresh right now. You’ll feel better in a few weeks.”
“It’s been almost a month since I left.” I bite down on my lip. “I don’t even remember being this upset about Liam. The divorce wrecked me emotionally, yes, but I didn’t miss him when it was over.”
“You know, sometimes a short-lived situationship messes us up way more than a long-term relationship ever could,” Laurie muses.
It stings when she refers to what we had as a situationship, but I don’t have the grounds to argue.
That was all it was to Enzo, after all.
The waiter arrives with our food.
“Oh, yum.” Laurie rubs her hands together. “Fuel up, Quinn. We’re going to need it later at the club.”
The smell of the food wafts up to me, and I immediately hunch over my seat as a wave of nausea hits me.
She frowns. “Wait, are you okay?”
A retching sound tears my throat.
“God, you’re going to throw up.” She turns to the waiter. “Where is the ladies’ room.”
I run to where he points and arrive just in time.
Laurie’s hand smoothes down my back, as I throw up the ice cream that’s the only thing I had on my stomach.
Laurie helps me clean up. I’m in the middle of washing my mouth out when the nausea hits me again, and I run over to the nearby stall again.
“Quinn, should we go to the hospital?” Laurie asks me when I re-emerge. “You might have food poisoning.”
“How? I’ve barely eaten these last few days.”
“Then what’s going on with you?”
We look at each other, and I know when her mind clicks because it’s when mine did too.
I scramble for my phone, opening my period tracking app.
“Do you think…” Laurie peers her head from behind my shoulder.
“I haven’t had my period since I’ve been back,” I breathe out. “God, I didn’t even notice with everything going on.”
Laurie takes the phone away from my shaking hands. “We should take a test to confirm. Here, go sit in my car, and I’ll settle the bill and meet you outside.”
She hands her keys over to me.
I use the restroom at the drugstore to take the test, and moments later, Laurie and I are back in the parked car, hunched over a small stick that holds the answer to something that could change my life forever.
We stare at the stick as though it’ll make the results come any faster, “Maybe it’s just stress, right? It can be. Right?”
“Right.”
A gasp escapes my lips. There it is. Two red lines.
I look up at Laurie, horrified.
“Do you… I mean… is the father… Enzo?”
“Of course. There hasn’t been anyone else.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand.” She grabs my hand.
“What am I going to do, Laurie?”
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, life throws me yet another curveball.
“I think you should tell him, at least. You’re not working anymore, either. How are you going to handle being pregnant all on your own?”
I hesitate and lean back in the car seat. “I think you should drive me back home. I need to lie down.”
Laurie doesn’t argue. Our plans for the night are effectively soiled.
Back at the house, the first thing I do is step into a hot, long shower. The stream of water does a good job at clearing my head and easing the cramps.
Pregnant. With a man who doesn’t want me in his life.
Liam and I had only skirted around the topic of having children. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them—I did, and always had—but the moment never felt right with him. When I got divorced, I had never thought I would have to deal with being a single mother.
Yet, that’s exactly what my future is looking like now because getting rid of the baby is out of the question.
Steam filled up in the bathroom as I stepped out of my shower. I take a towel to clean one of the mirrors and examine my naked body.
It looks the same. The baby is nothing but a little pea at the moment. Still, there’s a rush of overwhelming motherly instincts, and I wrap my hands around my belly.
“I love you, sweet pea.” Tears prick in my eyes. “I also love your daddy. I miss him.”
I haven’t told him yet. I can’t .
He made himself clear about where he stood. If he didn’t want me in his life before, he might think I’m using the baby to get closer to him or take advantage of him.
I would never do that.
And I don’t want him to see me as a charity case who can’t raise a child on her own.
Tears begin to fall freely now. We’re going to have to go on this journey alone.
Just me and you, sweet pea.