Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Voicemail 1: Birthday girl, I’ve got a surprise for you! Call me!
Voicemail 2: Quinn! My God, where are you? Call me back! Now!
Voicemail 3: Either you’re dead or you’ve blocked my number. Either way, I’ll find out soon enough and you’ll have to answer for yourself.
Quinn had been off-grid for not very long, maybe twenty-four hours. Why was her voicemail clogged with increasingly unhinged messages from Amanda Kaur, her childhood friend and former flatmate? Say nothing of the texts she didn’t have time to read.
After dropping Kya at home with the promise to pick her up the very next day, Quinn had dashed across town for her fitting. An hour later, done with the tailor, she finally unearthed her phone, dead in the bottom of the swamp lake that was her carry-all bag. She plugged it into the car charger and, after a moment, the screen lit up like Piccadilly Circus. So many people had been trying to reach her. The most persistent of them all was Amanda. Alarmed, Quinn got her on the phone. Her friend answered straight away.
‘Finally!’ Amanda cried, her familiar voice roaring through the car speakers. ‘Where the hell were you?’
‘Why? What’s the emergency?’ Quinn asked. ‘Are you in trouble? Do you need bail money? If so, how much?’
‘Put away your chequebook,’ Amanda replied. ‘There’s no emergency. I’m camping out in your lobby, or don’t you live here anymore? The doorman is committed to protecting your privacy. He won’t confirm or deny.’
‘It depends. Are you in Brickell or the beach?’
‘Brickell.’
‘You’re in the right place.’
‘Okay, so, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you forever!’
‘I went dark for a day. It’s good to unplug every now and then.’
‘Lovely! A little social media detox?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Good for you! Meanwhile, I’ve spent my time stalking you on social, trying to figure out where you’d disappeared to.’
‘Sorry, sweetie!’
‘Sorry isn’t going to cut it, love,’ Amanda said. ‘I was worried, and so was Ivy. Something to do with a Reddit post? I don’t know. She said you might’ve gone into hiding to save your reputation.’
For a Reddit post? Please! Then Quinn thought of Kya and something inside her snapped. She was still angry about the whole situation. ‘Well, I haven’t gone into hiding. I assure you.’
‘Assure me in person,’ Amanda said. ‘When are you coming home?’
Quinn veered onto Brickell Key Drive. ‘I’m five minutes away!’
‘Five actual minutes or are you running on Quinn time?’
Amanda had every right to be sceptical. Back when they lived together, in the small, dreary flat in London, and again, here in Miami for a year, ‘five minutes’ meant anything from a quarter to a full hour. A lot had changed since then. Quinn was an adult now with proven time management skills. ‘Five minutes Eastern Standard Time,’ she said. ‘I’m pulling into the car park as we speak. Hold still and please don’t harass poor Benny.’
Benny was her sweet doorman who should’ve retired ages ago, but who’d stayed on for the love of the job – he was a self-proclaimed people person – and the very real need for a steady income. ‘Times are hard,’ he’d said.
‘I can’t promise that,’ Amanda said. ‘He looks like Father Christmas.’
‘I’ll be right there!’
Quinn parked and jumped out of the car. She didn’t trust Amanda to behave, but more than that, she was truly excited to see her friend again. It had been years since Amanda had returned to England, to the arms of her boyfriend, Brian, and a job at a financial firm. Life had worked out well for her, but she was back in Miami now and together they’d turn back time, shred every inch of progress. Quinn couldn’t wait.
When Quinn burst through the door, Amanda scrambled off the leather-upholstered bench and cheered, as if she were the last to cross the finish line at the London Marathon.
‘Benny! I’m here to rid you of this pest!’ Quinn announced.
Benny laughed. ‘Nah, she was good company.’
Quinn rushed past Benny straight into Amanda’s open arms. They collided and nearly toppled onto the polished marble floor.
Quinn caught her breath. ‘Next time, a little notice, some advance warning, wouldn’t hurt!’
‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Amanda asked. ‘It would ruin the surprise.’
Nothing could ruin this surprise , she thought.
Funnily enough, she and Amanda had not been particularly close as kids. The former ballerina, star of the local dance school, had led a separate life. She was forever on stage. A recital, a play, a Christmas special, Amanda lived to dance. That ended when they hit their mid-teens. Amanda aged out of the local school. Rather than join a company, she retired, hanging up her ballerina slippers for the last time and taking to the dance floor instead. That’s when their friendship truly flourished. After secondary school, they left the suburbs for London, Amanda for uni, and Quinn for the close proximity to the underground clubs, splitting rent on a two-bedroom ground-floor flat. Good times.
With Benny’s help, they loaded Amanda’s luggage into the lift. Amanda leaned heavily on the far wall. Her inky black hair was gathered in a messy plait. Her even brown skin ashen. ‘Sweetie, you must be exhausted,’ Quinn said.
‘It was worth it,’ Amanda said. ‘I’m ready for sunshine.’
‘If you’re here to escape London weather, I’ve got news for you. It rains here, too. Quite a bit.’
‘I’m here for you , silly girl. I won’t miss your big festival debut. You’ve never done anything like this, have you?’
Quinn’s throat tightened with anxious anticipation. ‘No. Never.’
‘I’m so proud I could cry.’
‘Had I known you were coming, I would’ve waited outside the airport with a sign and balloons.’
‘It was all very last minute, I promise you,’ she said. ‘I had some free time and booked a cheap flight, hoping to make your birthday. I didn’t overthink any of it, but that was my first mistake. The flight was cancelled, and I couldn’t book another until days later.’
‘I love you for this,’ Quinn said. ‘Don’t ever do it again.’
‘Oh, I won’t.’
They wheeled her luggage to Quinn’s door. ‘How long are you staying for, exactly?’
The last time Amanda had showed up, she’d stayed a year.
‘A week. I grabbed everything I own and shoved it into the suitcases. Prepared for anything, you know.’
Judging by the weight of the suitcases, she’d come prepared for battle.
‘I’m going all out this week,’ Amanda explained. ‘If you see me out there, losing my mind, tend to your business.’
‘I promise.’
Quinn unlocked her door and Amanda rushed in. ‘Oh, my God! Quinn!’ she cried. ‘This is amazing ! Well done!’
‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,’ Quinn said, rolling the largest piece of luggage into the hallway. ‘I sent you pics, didn’t I?’
‘You did, but you suck at photography.’
She did a pirouette in the living room, her long black plait whipping around as she twirled. She was still very much a ballerina, dressed in black leggings and classic flats.
‘That’s fair,’ Quinn said, struggling, alone, with Amanda’s overstuffed weekend bag.
‘You didn’t catch this view! It’s perfect!’
Quinn dropped the bag. ‘Will you come here and help? You’re not checking into the Waldorf.’
‘Leave it alone. I’m not checking into the Quinn Estates, either. Ivy is giving me my old room back.’
‘For real?’ Quinn asked, letting the last piece of luggage topple onto the floor in the hallway and leaving it there.
‘We’re teaming up for Music Week. I’m her plus-one now that Vic is out of the picture. But is he truly out of the picture?’
Quinn hid her relief the best she could. As happy as she was to see her friend, this week was for Kya. If Amanda hadn’t thrown her plans, she would’ve spent the evening tidying up, stocking the fridge, and filling the flat with flowers and candles in anticipation of her arrival. She wanted to make everything pretty for her.
Quinn stepped over Amanda’s overturned suitcase and flopped onto her sofa. ‘Honestly? I have no idea.’
‘If she dumps me, I’m crawling back to you.’
‘Absolutely. I won’t let you down.’
‘You know what I think of all the Ivy and Victor drama? I think they truly care for each other, but are too scared to admit it.’
It was an interesting theory. Although Quinn didn’t think it applied to Ivy and Vic, it likely applied to her situation. Kya had a head full of excuses for why they wouldn’t work out. On the ride back from the Keys, she’d suggested they keep PDA at a minimum while out in public this week. ‘I want the focus to be on you,’ she’d repeated. ‘I think it’s better that way.’
‘Better for you or for me?’ Quinn had asked.
‘For both of us.’
It was bullshit, but at the time Quinn had preferred not to call her on it. Kya’s intentions might be good, but it didn’t matter, in the end, not when she was pulling away.
‘Wait.’ Amanda retrieved her travel bag and flung it open. ‘Look what I’ve got for you. A little taste of home.’
She produced the familiar red and gold package of Quinn’s favourite ready salted crisps.
Quinn raced over and snatched it from her. ‘Thank you!!!’ she cried. ‘I have to order these online whenever I’m homesick. You can’t just get them at the corner store.’
‘I’ve saved you the trouble because I’ve brought all your favourite flavours.’
‘You spoil me!’
‘It was no trouble. I grabbed them at Heathrow.’
‘Still, I appreciate it.’
Quinn plopped back onto the sofa and ripped open the bag. ‘Should I make you some tea?’
‘In a minute.’ Amanda twirled again. ‘This place is everything! Quinn, you’ve come so far.’
‘Please don’t remind me.’
She went trotting down memory lane anyway. ‘Remember that first time you played at Nikki Beach? The DJ ate a bad oyster or something and got violently ill? And then, like, Ivy did her thing and got Oscar to put you on. Remember that? Remember Oscar, the notorious grouch?’
‘I remember Oscar!’
‘I remember that night! You blew the roof off that place.’
‘There was no roof to blow off, but okay.’
‘I knew you were going to be a star then. I was sure of it.’
‘Settle down. I’m not a star!’
Quinn had been sure of nothing back then, only that she wanted to play her music. She still hadn’t ‘made it’. The road to stardom was long and treacherous.
‘I drove past a huge billboard of you on the highway just now. If that doesn’t make you a star, what does?’
‘You saw that?’
‘I did.’
‘I looked good, didn’t I?’
‘You looked amazing!’
Laughing, Quinn went to the kitchen and put on a kettle. Amanda followed, leaning on the counter. ‘I never told you this, but that first night you took the stage was a turning point for Ivy and me.’
‘A turning point? How?’
‘It was obvious that you were where you belonged … and we weren’t.’
‘Stop! That was the point, wasn’t it?’
They’d called it the ‘lost summer’. They’d agreed not to resist their aimlessness. Just let life take them wherever it wanted. That summer was the best of Quinn’s life. She’d made no money, but gained two best friends.
‘We stayed up late on the roof that night, talking,’ Amanda continued. ‘We knew serving drinks and hosting drunk tourists at a beach club wasn’t going to take us anywhere. That was when I decided to return home.’
‘You never told me.’
‘It was your moment. I didn’t want to rain on your parade.’
Quinn pulled a tin of sugar from a cupboard. ‘What parade?’
‘The parade your life has become. It’s well-deserved. Relax and enjoy it.’
‘I can’t enjoy it if everyone I care about can’t relate, runs away, and keeps secrets.’
‘Everyone? It was just Ivy and me. You know how stupid we were back then.’
It wasn’t just Ivy and Amanda. Quinn didn’t want to bring up Kya now, but her snow globe theory was proving to be right. Her success had put her in a bubble, out of reach from everyone.
‘I want to know what’s going on with you lot. I want to know what you’re going through and how you feel about things. No more of this fake shit.’
‘Fine.’
‘No more talk about billboards and stardom. Let’s talk about real life.’
‘Sounds good. How are your parents?’
‘They’re well. Yours?’
‘Never better.’
An awkward silence hovered for a while, then Amanda cleared her throat. ‘I applied for a promotion at work. There’s a good chance I’ll get it.’
Now they were getting somewhere. ‘Tell me everything. What’s the title? Does it come with a huge office?’
Amanda did not settle for crumbs. Quinn was certain she’d run that firm someday.
‘I applied for a senior buyer position. It comes with a tiny office, and an assistant.’
‘What are you buying?’ Quinn asked. ‘Startups? Whole companies?’
‘Women’s shoes and accessories.’
‘Is that a thing your firm is into?’
‘I’m not at the firm. I’m at Harrods.’
‘Are you kidding me right now?’
‘No.’
‘You’re a buyer? At Harrods?’
‘Yes.’
‘And not a junior associate at a VC firm?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since last year.’
‘What?’
‘I quit,’ she admitted. ‘It wasn’t for me. I hated every minute of it.’
Quinn didn’t know what to say.
‘Is it really so surprising?’ Amanda tried to make light of it. ‘You know I love to shop.’
‘We talked. We texted. I sent you pics of my new flat, bad pics but still. You never once mentioned leaving the firm.’
‘I know …’
‘Please don’t say you didn’t want to rain on my parade. I’ll lose it.’
No reply.
‘Does Ivy know?’
Amanda delivered her answer in a shaky voice. ‘I’m here to tell you both … in person. Too much time had gone by and I kept deleting the texts.’
Changing careers wasn’t unusual. Her silence around it definitely was. ‘It’s obviously working out if you’re in line for a promotion.’
Amanda brightened. ‘If I get it, I’ll have to hit the ground running. There won’t be any time to travel. That’s why I have to make the most of this trip.’
‘What does Brian have to say about all this?’ Quinn asked.
‘He thinks it’s stupid.’
‘Ouch.’
Naturally. Brainy Brian, as they liked to call him when he wasn’t around, was the quintessential finance bro. He loved his job. Still, one might expect a little more support from their fiancé.
‘That’s why Brian and I are no longer together.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘We broke up.’
‘When?’
Amanda pressed her lips together as if to keep the answer from spilling out.
Quinn shook her head in disbelief. ‘Let me guess: last year?’
‘Sort of.’
Quinn stared at her, jaw ajar. Was this even Amanda, or her evil twin?
‘Are you all right?’ Amanda asked in a small voice.
‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘It’s a lot to take on an empty stomach.’
‘Should we head over to Ivy’s now and get her to set up a charcuterie board or something?’
That seemed like a good idea, considering Quinn’s refrigerator held only a few bottles of Gatorade. ‘Let’s do that.’
‘Okay. Let’s go.’