Page 51 of My Best Friend's Sister

T W E N T Y S E V E N

- Madeline -

It was only after we finished our drinks and decided to grab a table that I realized Runway was a rooftop bar and restaurant. How that fact escaped me before was a mystery. I guess I was just so relieved I reached the building without tripping on the sidewalk and flashing a bunch of unsuspecting Chicagoans that I hadn’t noticed I’d made my way to the top floor.

Either way, I was pleasantly surprised when I reached the outdoor patio and felt the warm summer breeze swirl around my face, which was already sore from smiling. To the left, the city lights glinted off the lake like silver fish skipping across the surface, and up ahead, the Willis Tower stretched into a cloudless sky that was the same deep blue as Quinn’s heart-stopping eyes. I glanced behind me to make sure he was still following the hostess and me to the table and found him practically glowing in his crisp white button down. It was open at the top, and he looked enviably relaxed, drifting behind us with his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. How he was single I didn’t know.

My best guess was that he liked it that way. And by best guess, I mean there was no other explanation. He was so hot he could pack in his job tomorrow and join the cast of that show with all the sexy vampires. Speaking of which, there were some fancy people at this place. I knew jumpsuits were making a comeback, for example, but I’d never seen so many women who actually looked good in them. And the designer purses on display were as fabulous as they were varied. Granted, part of me thought it was a little grotesque to spend two grand on a handbag, but staring was tacky, too, and I was doing that without a moment’s hesitation.

“What are you thinking right now?” Quinn asked, eyeing me from across the table.

“Nothing, why?”

“You’re looking around like a kid who’s never been to an aquarium.”

“Well, there are a lot of exotic creatures around,” I said, clocking a wax Cindy Crawford in the corner, who appeared to be gossiping with a wax Naomi Campbell and that Brazilian angel with the skinny face whose name I can never remember. “And the decor is funky, to put it mildly.” I slid my menu closer and looked up, noticing that the lampshades hanging over each table were actually miniskirts.

“I’m glad you like it. I know it’s a bit over the top, and I know you’re probably sick of everything fashion-related at the minute, but—”

“Never,” I said. “I will never be sick of fashion. It’s divas and bullies I’m sick of.”

“Bullies?”

“I’m exaggerating,” I said, waving my hand to counter the concern that washed over his face.

“Are you getting bullied at work?”

“No.” I tried to focus on the menu in front of me, but I could still feel the intense pressure of his gaze. “Of course not.”

“Maddy, talk to me.”

I lifted my face and lowered my voice. “I’m not getting bullied, okay? I’m just feeling a little demoralized because my boss can’t get my name right.”

He leaned an ear towards me. “What?”

“It’s probably just regular intern hazing stuff.”

“After this amount of time? I don’t think so.”

I shrugged. “I corrected her for the first two weeks, but I ran out of energy.”

“What the hell does she call you?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized the true extent of my embarrassment. “Addy. Or Adeline, when she’s pissed off with me.”

Quinn’s reddening face looked so stony I feared it might crumble if he clenched his jaw any tighter.

“Relax,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is to me.”

I leaned back, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

“I am not okay with you being deliberately disrespected.”

“I appreciate your concern, Quinn, but it’s my battle, and I can fight it on my own. So let’s not let my bitch of a boss ruin our night.”

“You don’t have to take that.”

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