Lorenzo #3
I should be focused on that. Instead, I find myself thinking about the bruise on Quinn's face, the fact she never mentioned it, or looked at me like she expected me to do something about it. Quinn covered it with makeup and carried on as though it didn't exist.
I don't know what to make of that.
I look down at the report in front of me and realize I've been staring at the same page for five minutes without reading a word. For fuck's sake. I shove the file away and lean back in my chair.
The engagement party is in four days, four days until I have to stand beside Quinn in front of the entire Syndicate and pretend everything is settled.
The thought should irritate me. Instead, I find myself wondering what she's doing.
A knock sounds at the door. "Come in."
Marco steps inside carrying his tablet device and a folder. I gesture for him to continue. "The Waterfront issue has been resolved. Caruso's recommendation checks out. Materials should start arriving tomorrow morning."
I nod.
"The investigator got back to me regarding the Delaney household."
That gets my attention. "And?"
"Nothing significant yet. A lot of conflicting information. Most people are willing to talk about Bridget and Dáire. Nobody seems particularly interested in talking about Quinn."
I lean back in my chair. "Keep digging."
He nods. "Ciro checked in an hour ago. Still nothing further on the Geraghty situation."
Not unexpected, if whatever happened was buried, it was buried for a reason.
Marco glances at the tablet. "The security company confirmed attendance numbers for the engagement party."
"Good."
"The East Street Kings are sending eight men. The Morozovs are sending six."
I nod, everything appears to be under control. It should make me feel better, but it doesn't.
Marco studies me for a second. "You seem distracted."
I look at him. "Do I?"
"A little."
I ignore that. "Anything else?"
A corner of his mouth twitches. "Miss Delaney isn't at home."
I narrow my eyes. "I don't remember asking."
"No."
"Then why are you telling me?"
His expression remains completely neutral. "I thought you might want to know."
I stare at him. "Where is she?"
"The bookstore on Hanover."
Of course she is, if Valentina finds out, Quinn won’t get a moment of peace, my youngest sister is a complete bookworm. Marco says nothing else, the bastard knows exactly what he's doing. I look at the report sitting open on my desk, and then I look back at him. "When's my next meeting?"
"Two hours."
I get to my feet and grab my jacket, and Marco's mouth twitches again. I point at him. "Not a word."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Liar.
Ten minutes later, I'm questioning every decision that brought me here.
"You're aware this is insane, right?" I ask.
Marco glances at me in the mirror. "Going to a bookstore?"
"Going to a bookstore because my future wife spends time there."
His mouth twitches and I immediately regret speaking. The car pulls to a stop. "We're here." I look at the storefront. For a moment, I consider telling Marco to drive away. Instead, I get out.
The bell above the door chimes as I step inside, the bookstore is smaller than I expected. Shelves line every wall, packed full of books. The scent of coffee drifts through the air from a small café tucked into the back corner. A handful of people sit at tables, reading or working on laptops.
My eyes find Quinn immediately, she's sitting in a worn armchair near the back of the store with her legs tucked beneath her and a book open in her lap, there's a stack of books beside her, and another stack on the table, and a coffee sits forgotten beside her.
She doesn't notice me, not at first, she's completely absorbed in whatever she's reading. I stand there for a moment watching her. This Quinn is different, she’s relaxed, comfortable, and happy.
There's no tension in her shoulders, no carefully guarded expression, and no pretending. It’s just Quinn.
A smile tugs at her mouth as she reads something, then she laughs softly, the sound catches me off guard.
I've never heard her laugh before. Something shifts in my chest. I don't particularly care for it.
I start toward her before I can talk myself out of it, when I'm close enough, I glance at the cover of the book.
"Any good?"
Quinn nearly launches the book across the room, her head snaps up, her eyes widen. "Lorenzo?"
I raise an eyebrow. "Expecting someone else?"
"No." She places a hand over her chest. "You scared the life out of me."
A grin threatens, but I don't let it happen. "You looked busy."
She glances down at the book. "I was."
"Clearly." Her eyes narrow at my word. I look at the stack beside her. "Planning on buying all of these?"
She follows my gaze and immediately looks defensive. "Maybe."
"There are seven books."
"Eight."
I count again. "You're right. Eight."
A hint of satisfaction crosses her face. Christ, she's proud of that. "You'll finish all of those?"
"I read fast." I look at the pile, and she lifts her chin. "I do."