Chapter 26
Technically I shouldn’t be in danger anymore, but I haven’t been able to shake my bodyguards.
I don’t think they’ll be happy until the entire situation is resolved, and for the moment, the police are still investigating Greg Cook, who seems to have disappeared.
Until that’s over, they’ve been giving me a little more breathing room, but there’s always at least one biker around. Today it’s Colt.
“Are you ready to talk to her? Just call and cancel if you don’t want to go.” Colt backs me into my closet and starts nibbling on my neck.
“Stoooop,” I whine, pushing him away. “I need to do this before I chicken out.”
After talking to Roger, I’m more confident about talking to Mom.
She’s not going to like what I have to say, but he was right.
I don’t need her as my manager, not anymore.
It made sense when I was thirteen, and maybe even when I was studying, but now?
I’m a grown woman and my professional needs have changed.
I haven’t told anyone else because I know what they’d say, but I’m willing to work out something financially so she won’t have to get another job.
I just hope she’s willing to go along with it.
“How’s this?” I do a little spin, showing off my favorite green, summer dress. The one that brings out my eyes. It comes down to my calves, and looks cute with a jean jacket. “It should be okay for the bike, right? As long as I have a jacket and change shoes?”
He nods. “I’ll get you there safe and sound.”
The door panel buzzes. The doorman is calling from the lobby. “Hello? What’s up?”
“Hi, Ms. Callahan. We have a flower delivery for you down here.” Clarke must actually have a day off.
“Oh… um, I’m going out soon, can you send someone up with it?” I look at Colt, who shrugs and shakes his head. Huh.
I’m finishing my makeup when Colt goes to answer the door. He comes back carrying a vase with what must be three dozen roses of all shades of red and pink. I stand and bury my nose in them. “Pretty! Was there a card?”
“Don’t think so. Clarke brought them up. He said they were delivered anonymously.” Never mind. I guess he’s working after all.
Before this all started, I would’ve said Roger was the only one who would send me flowers, but now there are all sorts of options. Mom could be trying to buy my cooperation. Priest or Sinner maybe. Even Erika could’ve sent them.
“Red is for love, isn’t it?” I ask Colt.
“I think so. I’d love to take credit, but it wasn’t me.”
Oh well, I’ll figure it out later.
Colt drives me to the restaurant Mom picked.
It’s a little north of the city, near the shore, and called the Sea Pearl.
The breeze is a little chilly here, windier than in town.
The parking lot is almost empty, which seems strange for the hour.
It looks fancy too, nicer than she usually picks when it’s just the two of us and we have nobody to impress.
The main doors slide open. “Quinn! I’m so happy you came, baby. I know you were upset, and you had every right to be, but it’s been hard not talking to you.” Mom is all smiles.
“I just needed some time, that’s all. Maybe this was a good wake-up call. We’ve been needing to talk for a while.”
She nods and leans in closer. “Does he have to be here? Everything is okay now.”
“I hired them for two weeks. They insist.”
Mom sighs. “Fine, but come inside, I have a surprise.”
The ma?tre d’ eyes Colt suspiciously. “This way.” He hesitates. “Perhaps the gentleman could be persuaded to wear a dinner jacket?”
A harsh laugh bursts out of Colt. “I’m gonna pass on that, man, but I can stay out of sight if it makes you happy.” He strokes a finger across the back of my hand, a tiny gesture to check in that makes me smile. “I’ll be right nearby.”
I nod. Having dinner with him would be way more fun, but this discussion is going to be hard enough on my own. If he’s there, it would just give Mom something else to be difficult about. Besides, I need to learn to stand up for myself. As much as I love the support, I won’t need bodyguards forever.
“Did we get an advance or something?” I whisper as we follow the ma?tre d’.
“You’ll see.” For a moment her smile is genuine, and I get a glimpse of how she can be when she’s actually happy.
There’s a man waiting for us at our table. Dark haired, black-suited and with a very deliberate hint of black stubble on his jaw. He stands up as we arrive, flashing a predatory smile that gives me chills. What’s going on?
“Welcome. I’m so glad you could join us,” he says in a deep voice that might’ve been attractive if there wasn’t something odd about how he’s looking at me.
“Honey, this is Romero. We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now, but everything’s been so busy that there never seemed to be a good time for you to meet. Romero, this is my daughter, Quinn.”
“Quinn, I’ve waited so long to meet you.” He holds his hand out and I take it, hoping for a simple handshake. Instead, he captures my hand in both of his and looks me right in the eyes like he’s trying to draw me in. “You’re even lovelier than your mother said you’d be. Did you get my flowers?”
From him? Is it normal to send your girlfriend’s daughter roses before meeting her for the first time? I don’t know what to say so I fall back on staying polite. “Yes, they were beautiful. Thank you.”
Mom stiffens a little, like she wasn’t aware he’d sent them.
I can see why she likes him. He’s handsome and he dresses like he has money. If he’s the one letting her drive his car and funding her projects, she’s probably halfway in love by now. As the meal begins, the waiters call him by name and it’s clear this is his regular table.
At first it makes sense that he spends a lot of time talking to me.
This is the first time we’ve met, after all, but as the meal drags on, it starts to make me uncomfortable.
I have to field questions about everything from what I did in theater school to my acting progress, and even how I like the apartment.
It turns out he was the one who recommended the place to Mom and helped smooth over the background check and deposit.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever been this icked out by someone before without knowing exactly why.
Looking a little annoyed at being left out, Mom breaks in. “So honey, we need to talk about that article. I called Roger to see if there was something we could do about it and imagine my surprise when I found out you okayed it yourself.”
“I did, and there isn’t much to talk about. The reporter is sympathetic to my side of things and I felt it was important to make it clear that I wasn’t involved.” I was expecting to have this talk, but not in front of a stranger. “It was my call and I made it.”
“Of course,” she says, like the words taste sour.
“But according to Roger, Starpoint hasn’t responded to his emails since the article was published.
That’s exactly what I warned you about. I’ll accept my share of the blame, but your continued association with those bikers is going to do more lasting damage than my miscalculation. ”
Miscalculation. I thought I was going to die, and maybe Erika, too.
My first instinct is to just eat my food and stay quiet.
I learned early that the best way to keep her happy is to just avoid rocking the boat.
My rebellions were always quiet and out of sight.
In my head, Sinner calls me a pushover, and Colt shakes his head in disappointment.
Priest would just call her a bitch and tell her to fuck off.
If Sinner hadn’t been there for my talk with Roger, maybe it would be easier to chicken out, but he’s going to ask me how it went.
I look up. “No.”
Mom blinks like she just short-circuited. “What do you mean, no?”
“Exactly that. No. I’m not going to share the blame.
And no, I’m not going to distance myself from the people who stepped in to protect me even before I hired them.
In the last couple of weeks, getting to know the Outlaw Sons and the women in their club is the closest I’ve come to having a real family. ” And I say that right to her face.
She blanches. “I’ve taken care of you your whole life, Quinn.
I’ve made you who you are. I’ve built your success, and I’m the only reason you didn’t throw it away a hundred times over by now.
Without me, where would you be? And you call them your family?
I am your mother!” Her voice rises higher and higher with each sentence.
The few other guests are starting to look, and a couple of the waiters are hovering nearby, trying to decide how far this needs to go before they intervene.
Romero puts a hand on her arm. “How about you take a deep breath, Sheila. Quinn is a grown woman. Of course she’s going to rebel if you treat her like a child.
” He’s freaking smiling. If I wasn’t busy being furious with her, I’d give him a piece of my mind for acting like he knows anything about me or our relationship.
“I came here to talk to you about the future,” I say calmly even though I’m feeling anything but. “You’ve been my manager for a long time, and I’m so grateful for that, but Roger and I agreed that it’s becoming too complicated for you. It’s time I hire a professional.”
“You’re firing me?” she shrieks.
“This isn’t about money. We can work something out so you’re still on the books as my advisor or something.”
“You spoiled little bitch,” she hisses. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you over the years. You would be nothing without me, and what I’m seeing now is that I’ve been far too lenient. Success has gone to your head and you’ve forgotten what we’re working towards.”
The ma?tre d’ approaches us cautiously. “Sir, madams, I hate to interrupt, but—”
“Maybe I don’t give a fuck about Hollywood. Did that ever occur to you?”
She gasps, actually shocked silent. I don’t think I’ve ever sworn at my mother before.
My hand shakes as I put my napkin on the table and stand.
“I’m sorry. I’m going to go… powder my nose.
” I stride towards the restrooms with my back straight and my head held high, knowing that every eye in the restaurant is on me.
Fine. Let them. The guys are rubbing off on me more than I’ve realized.
That doesn’t mean I’m not on the brink of angry tears. My nose is burning and my chest is tight, but there’s no way I’m going to let Mom and Romero see my cry.
The bathrooms are at the end of a long hallway that goes past several rooms that can be rented out for private events. I can only imagine how much it would cost.
It’s a single room, so at least I can lock the door without worrying about anyone coming in.
I run the tap, gently pressing a paper towel soaked in cold water against my neck.
I don’t want to ruin my makeup, but the cold helps give me something else to focus on and cool down the flush.
Then I place my hands on either side of the sink and just look at myself, feeling deflated.
All that courage I showed at the table has evaporated, and I’m not sure where I’m going to find it again.
So everything didn’t go perfectly. I knew that was probably going to happen, but I took the first step. She can go cry to Romero and try to impress him instead for all I care. Maybe he’ll keep her living in the lifestyle that she’s looking for.
I want to go out, find Colt and tell him to drive me home.
A last check in the mirror, a drawn breath, and then I open the door.
No one around. Good. I was worried Mom might be out there waiting to ambush me.
I’ve just passed the door to one of the private rooms when a lock clicks behind me.
I haven’t even turned to look before one hand slaps over my mouth, and another goes around my waist, pulling me back into the dark.
I struggle as hard as I can, but whoever it is, is too strong. He kicks the door shut.
“Quiet, Q! I’m not gonna hurt you.”
I freeze. The fear must be messing with my head.
Because that voice belongs to a dead man.