Page 57 of My Last Fling

A memory of Cole playing with his niece and dressing up her dolls pops into my head and I almost smile. I’d gone to visit Harlow one afternoon a few months after I moved to town and Cole had been there. He’d had pink and purple clips stuck all through his dark hair making him look like he had little horns all over his head. He’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor with Ella as she’d orchestrated an entire scene with the dolls. He’d looked up at me and smiled sheepishly and I’d felt something in my chest squeeze almost painfully. Seeing this large man sitting on the floor and looking utterly ridiculous all to make a little girl happy had affected me more than I’d cared to admit.

Of course, I acted like it was nothing. I teased him lightly and complimented Ella on her spectacular work with his hair before going to visit Harlow. But I’d never gotten the image out of my head. And apparently it still affected me, even now. As I sit here, thinking about my future and the imaginary husband and kids I want to someday have, I allow myself the barest moment to picture Cole by my side. I’ve never dared to let myself think about it before. Knowing how he felt about commitment—not to mention the arrangement we’d had—made it an impossibility. Besides that, he’s nearly a decade younger than me. If he were thinking of settling down, he’d probably choose someone his own age or younger.

But those facts don’t stop me from picturing it now. I know it can never happen, but for just a moment I can see exactly what it would look like. And it nearly brings me to tears. I can’t want him that way. I can’t. Wanting a future with Cole Prescott and knowing I’ll never have it would break me.

“How did you know it was real?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t at first. I almost fucked it all up, actually.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Yep. I tried to keep things light. I was convinced it was just a fling and that I’d be able to leave once I had enough of him. But he wanted more. When he asked me for it, I froze. I couldn’t tell him what he wanted. I didn’t know if I could be what he needed. So, I left. But it didn’t take me long to figure out that I needed him just as much as he needed me.” She shrugs. “So, I came back. And I thank my lucky stars every day that I did.”

I’m not sure if hearing Quinn’s story makes me feel better or worse. I still don’t know what I’m feeling or what I want. If anything, I’m more lost than I was before she told me her story. But I do know one thing I need to do.

“Hey,” Quinn says, as if noticing my sudden distress. “You okay?”

I nod, swallowing back a lump in my throat. “Yeah. I’ll be right back. I just need to make a phone call.”

She gives me a worried look but doesn’t push the subject. Instead, she nods. “Okay. I’ll cover for you with the bride.”

“Thanks,” I say, already reaching for my phone as I walk toward the exit.

Chapter 26

Layna

“Will you please tell me where we’re going?” Piper asks for the third time since we left the hotel.

We’re riding in the back of a car being driven by a stoic gentleman who seems content to ignore our conversation. Harlow told us nothing about today’s outing. We were told to be in the lobby and ready to leave by 2pm. That’s all. Now, we’re in the back of a car heading to a part of Savannah I don’t recognize. Not that I know the city all that well.

“Nope,” Harlow says. “It’s a surprise.”

Piper looks at me, but I just shrug. “Don’t look at me. She’s your friend.”

“Shut up,” Harlow says. “You know you love me.”

I laugh. “I do, but sometimes I wonder why.”

“Just trust me,” she says. “You’re going to love this.”

“The last time someone asked me to trust them they stole my car,” I say.

Piper laughs. “Is it stealing if he was your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” I say. “Because it wasn’t his fucking car.”

“I’d listen to her,” Harlow says. “She’s a lawyer, so she knows.”

“I hate surprises,” Piper mutters.

“Too bad,” Harlow says. “We’re almost there.”

“Almost where?” I ask, peering out the tinted window.

The car drives up to a nondescript square brick building. The only identifying marker besides the address is a small sign near the door but I’m not close enough to read the words. The driver exits the car and comes to open the door for us to exit. Harlow gives him a smile as she climbs out. I see that she’s carrying a large bag, but I hadn’t noticed it before.

I smile at the driver as I climb out behind Piper and we stand there, waiting for Harlow to lead the way. She tells the driver to come back in 3 hours. He nods his understanding but says nothing. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve heard him speak since we got into the car at the hotel. Is he allowed to speak? Is he contractually obligated to be silent? I try to remember if that’s legally enforceable under contract law, but then Harlow is pushing me toward the building.