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"Yes, but only because he felt you’d be on your own and might need a bit of company," Summer answers.
"I promise, we are legit. We’ll show you our ID and everything. We’re here because he’s worried about you, but he knows you don’t want to see him… Yet," Zoey adds.
"Also, we have wine."
"Wine?" I say slowly.
"A very good 2009 Merlot." Summer’s voice is persuasive.
"A 2009? That would taste better than the vinegar you were having earlier," Lizzie exclaims.
I scowl at her. "What do you know about wine?"
She coughs. "Anything would be better than your boxed wine.”
"Hmm."
Before I can reply, Zoey chimes in, "Also, cupcakes and tacos."
Tacos! I exchange glances with Lizzie again.
"Keep me on the line, so I can make sure they are who they say they are,” she insists.
"No, absolutely not, you need to get back to practice."
She sighs, "You’re right, but?—"
"I’ll message you after."
"Message me in ten minutes, and let me know you’re fine, else I’m coming over to join the party."
I roll my eyes. "Okay, grandma." I disconnect the call, slip the phone into the pocket of my jeans, and buzz them in.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. I throw it open to see a pretty, pink-haired woman with a big smile on her face. She’s holding onto a pram with a sleeping baby in it. Behind her is a taller woman with blonde hair pulled up into a tidy knot. She’s wearing glasses and a skirt suit and has a satchel in her hand. It looks like she came here directly from work.
The pink-haired woman beams at me. "I hope you don’t mind us coming by. I’m Summer, by the way.”
I hold out my hand. "I’m?—"
"Vivian. Quentin’s told me all about you." She eschews my hand, steps around the pram and throws her arms about me. Her excitement at meeting me is infectious, and I find my lips curving. She steps back and her smile grows broader.
The other woman waves at me. "I hope you don’t mind our gatecrashing like this?”
“Quentin called me this morning and gave me a quick overview of the situation,” Summer offers.
“Situation?” I’m unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.
“He explained you were special to him and that it would help if we dropped by to keep you company," she adds.
“Did he now?” I can’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.
Does Q know I don’t have that many friends? Is this his way of ensuring I didn’t start overanalyzing things in my head like I want to? But that’s not possible; he barely knows me.
And yet… When my gaze locked with his that first time, it felt as if he were seeing straight through to my insecurities and my deepest desires. Like he knew me better than I know myself. And I felt like I already knew him, though I’m positive it’s the first time I saw him.
"If you’re not comfortable, we’ll leave." Zoey scans my features.
“It’s not that. I’m just…” I raise a shoulder. “I’m surprised he’d reach out to you. Or that he’d have the time to do so, given we met three days ago.”
