Men Like This. Roxanne Smith
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Finally, his mouth snapped shut, and he zeroed in on her with narrowed eyes.
Mint and honey? Maybe not. Right now they were more like molten amber. “I don’t think so.”
Even coming from Blake it was an unexpected response. How much control did he presume to have over her?
“Excuse me? I’m not requesting permission. I’m going, and Seth isn’t. I’ve already given him the option, and he chose to stay. I can’t say I blame him. At his age, I wouldn’t have wanted to spend a year away from my friends, either, going to some strange school in a foreign country.”
Blake’s expression of extreme ire might’ve been carved from granite. She pressed on. “It’s only for a year. He’ll be in school. He’ll have his friends and my family, plus vacations and the summer with me in London. It’ll be over before you realize it. Hell, he might even have a new baby brother to occupy him, huh? He’s a built-in babysitter.”
Blake started to say something but stopped. His brow creased again. With his thumb and forefinger, he stroked his chin in a thinking man’s gesture. “A year, you said? That’s a pretty specific time frame, isn’t it, Q? It’s about the length of time needed to, oh, I don’t know…write a book?”
He’d used his old nickname for her. She didn’t point it out—a strategic move on her part. “You were paying attention the last ten years. Yes, I’m going there to write.”
Not a muscle twitched. “Are you being funny?”
The tantrum she’d been expecting closed in. It would be one of the first she didn’t bow to. She rose from her seat and clasped her hands together. Hopefully standing made her appear more authoritative. “I’d never put so much effort into a joke.”
Blake bowed his head and closed his eyes as if warding off a headache. He probably was. He joined her in standing and placed his hands on his hips. The toe of one exquisitely polished loafer tapped an angry staccato on the oak-paneled floor. “Explain to me why you’re going to London to do what you’ve always done right here in California.”
Not a question. A demand for information.
Quinn’s mouth tightened. She could tell him about the romance novel she wanted to write, or how this was all her dad’s big idea, but she wasn’t going to make excuses or offer explanations. He’d simply have to deal with her decision to go to London the same way she’d dealt with his decision to get a divorce.
The mere memory brought a rush of flame to her face. After learning about Blake’s affair, she’d wrongly assumed the power lie in her hands. Didn’t cheating men generally beg their wives not to give them the boot? She’d confronted him and promised forgiveness if he’d stop seeing the other woman.
He’d thrown the offer in her face. He didn’t want a second chance. They were done; he was leaving—rather, she was—and it was over. Thank God, he’d told her, because keeping his affair secret for five years had been exhausting.
Quinn pinpointed it as the exact moment her heart shattered. “I’m going because I want to and I can. End of story.”
He met her eyes. “So you don’t need to. You want to. We don’t always get what we want.”
His hypocrisy stunned her. “Are you going to lecture me on the virtues of selflessness? I don’t believe you’re the man for the job, honey.” Anger had her slipping into old habits. It only peeved her off further. “You certainly don’t make it a habit to ignore your own wants. You corrupted our marriage and destroyed our life together to get what you wanted. Now you’re prepared to throw away your relationship with Seth to get more of the same.”
This was the man she loved? This hypocritical, selfish jerk?
Her tirade failed to make an impact.
“Don’t throw the divorce in my face, Quinn. You might not realize it, but you weren’t happy either. We were living our lives around each other. I made a move to be happy. You should’ve done the same.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Bitter anger gave her the strength to keep fighting. “I’m doing it now.”
Her tears used to make Blake weak in the knees. He’d never been able to resist coming to her side. Since he met Kira, though, the man had iron in his legs. He stayed rooted to the spot and watched her show of emotion dispassionately.
He chided her. “You’re being ridiculous. London isn’t the answer.”
Quinn snatched a tissue from the dispenser on his desk since he hadn’t offered one and dabbed her eyes. After several deep breaths, she faced him again. “In two months I’m going to London for a year. Seth doesn’t want to go, and we’re not forcing him.” She hadn’t planned on giving a time limit. Too late now. “My suggestion is you take this time with your son and get to know him. It might be your last chance.”
“You’re overreacting again. I just believe he should live with you. Weekends and holidays are fine. It’s the typical arrangement, isn’t it?”
“Of course. You wouldn’t want your precious reputation to suffer if anyone ever found out you don’t want your own child.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not true.”
She’d won the war but didn’t have the strength for another battle. She wiped her eyes again. “Whatever you say. I wouldn’t take him, anyway. You’re his dad. He needs you.” A glimmer of something that might’ve been love, pity, or regret crossed his face.
She didn’t stick around to find out which.
* * * *
Quinn hadn’t been very generous to herself.
Two months hardly covered the time she needed to prepare for living abroad. She managed, though, determined to stick to the deadline she’d given Blake. May he never underestimate her again.
First, she’d needed an agent. With only a flimsy outline of her novel in hand and her established career in another genre to lean on, she went about the process of finding the right representative for her new endeavor.
It didn’t take long for Carla Darby to pounce on her proposal. During their initial phone conference she’d surprised and encouraged Quinn with her eagerness and immediate assumption of success.
She’d literally laughed at Quinn’s expressed doubt. “Romance is pie! Anytime you get stuck, throw in a knifing or two to get yourself back on familiar ground. Those weren’t pretty times. People were savage. No one will blink twice at a little violence. Or a lot.”
Quinn signed with Carla that day.
The day before her flight departed for Heathrow, an announcement from Blake arrived in her e-mail inbox. Kira was pregnant.
Quinn couldn’t be happier to be leaving the country.
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