Page 21 of One Weekend in Quebec City

The morning light slips through the gap in the curtains and lands across the suite in ribbons. For once, I don’t reach for my phone. I don’t think about meetings, emails, or anything waiting on the other side.

Instead, I watch her.

Shelby is still asleep, curled beneath the sheets, one arm flung across my side like she belongs there. And maybe she does.

Last night changed everything. Not just the way we touched but also the way we saw each other. I lift a hand and gently brush a lock of hair from her cheek.

She stirs, eyes fluttering open, and her expression softens when they land on me. “Morning,”she rumbles, voice sleep-rough and warm.

“Morning.”I can’t help the grin that pulls at my lips. “You look good in my bed.”That’s an understatement. If only this were my actual bed, back in my condo in New York.

A flush rises in her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away. “I could say the same about you.”

We stay there a little longer, tangled in that silky silence that doesn’t need filling. When I lean down to kiss her, it’s slow and unrushed—like we have all the time in the world.

But we don’t. Our weekend is just about over. Usually, I’d head to the airport as quickly as possible after my work wraps up. But this morning, I’m thankful Linda booked my flight back to New York for tomorrowmorninginstead of today.

Eventually, I push myself up. “I’ve got a short wrap-up with my team this morning. Shouldn’t take long. An hour at most. After that, I’m yours for the day.”

Her eyes spark with curiosity. “And my interview?”

“Ah, yes,”I say, mock-gravely. “The hard-hitting questions.”I toss her a wink. “You’ll have your chance, Miss Bailey. But I get to choose the setting.”

We shower separately. But I’m not the least bit disappointed when she lingers in the doorway, one towel tucked around her body, another working through her damp hair. It’s a small thing, but it makes something shift in my chest. I never thought I’d feel this content and relaxed around another person. A potential partner.

If it wasn’t for my meeting, I’d have her back in bed, but work calls, and the sooner I get it done, the sooner we can spend the rest of the day together, so breakfast is in the hotel dining room where it’s quiet and sun-drenched.

“You order. I’m easy.”Her eyes sparkle with mischievous delight.

I order for both of us. And she smiles warmly behind her coffee as I ask for warm croissants, eggs, bacon, and a dish of that fresh berry compote I noticed she enjoyed so much yesterday.

She looks out the window at the courtyard. “This place is something else.”

“Yeah,”I say, watching her more than the view. “It’s got a way of making you believe time moves slower.”I don’t tell her that’s why I booked the whole shoot here. Orthat Ihaven’t been in one place this long without flying out for some emergency in over a year.

And I don’t tell her that part of me doesn’t want to leave.

“Obviously you’ve been here before.”

“A few times.”

She leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. “So, what’s left for today?”

“Team wrap-up. Shouldn’t be more than sixty minutes. Then you get your exclusive. After that…”I pause, letting the words hang between us. “We make the most of the time we’ve got left.”

Her gaze holds mine, but is that sadness I see in her eyes? “I like the sound of that.”

An hour later,I’msitting at the head of the conference table, my team gathered around me. Shelby is sitting in the same chair she did yesterday. Too far away. After last night, I’d prefer her close, where I can smell the shampoo she used this morning and brush my fingers against her arm. Listen to her breath and take comfort in having her close to me. Did she purposefully decide to keep some distance? And if she did, is it because I’m as much of a distraction to her as she is to me?

The room is filled witha mix ofexcitement and tension, the air buzzing with energy. And it’s not just the two of us.

“Alright, let’s go through the final selections for the holiday edition,”I say, clapping my hands and commanding the room’s attention. “We need to narrow down the models, finalize the location shots, and lock in the editorial content.”

The creative director speaks up. “We’ve narrowed it down to three models for the cover. Each of them brings something unique to the table. We need to decide which one best fits the winter wonderland theme.”

I scan the images on the table. “Walk me through their portfolios. What are their strengths and weaknesses?”

We discuss each model, weighing their pros and cons. I listen intently, asking questions and offering insights. The decision is tough, but we must choose the one who will make thebiggestimpact.

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