Page 46 of The Arrangement

I regarded her with narrowed eyes. “Where did you hear I liked sushi?”

Clark groaned in annoyance as she uncovered the vanilla cake.“The entryway. Our doors are thin; I hear things.” She paused, gathering a bit of fallen icing on her fingertip and sucking it into her mouth. “And today I heard that you hate Italian food but love sushi, which you did not get for your birthday.”

I was stunned; I couldn’t find it in me to move a muscle as she finished dishing out the spread that now covered my counter.

“So,” I said slowly as if mulling over the words in my head. “You heard I liked sushi, so you bought me sushi? For my birthday?”

She nodded, pointedly not looking at me as she stuck a green candle in the middle of the cake. Clark opened a few drawers as I stood in shock, rummaging around until she found a lighter.

Before I knew it, Georgia Clark was holding a vanilla cake in front of me, complete with a lit candle. “Make a wish, Quinny.”

Her face, framed with light freckles and bangs mussed from the wind, was illuminated by the soft light of the singular candle, and it made my breath catch. I swallowed hard against whatever the fuck was wrong with me and blew out the candle quickly to snuff out the image of her smiling face.

I watched as Clark set the cake down, tapping the edge of thecounter awkwardly before grabbing her bag from the table. “Anyway, happy birthday. Sorry\ your grandfather sucks.”

I let out a soft laugh as she passed me, and I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her steps.

“That's a lot of sushi, Clark,” I said, looking over at the array of food which, to be honest, I could eat by myself.

“Yeah, that's the point.” She looked me up and down. “You’re a growing boy and all.”

I let go of her arm and rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I was about to watch a movie.”

Clark waited, her eyebrows raised as if they, too, were waiting for me to get to the point. Rubbing my chin, I looked around and gestured to the living room where the glare of the TV lit the small space. “You can, ya know, stay and eat sushi. Watch the movie.”

Clark’s gaze flickered to the TV and me, and she bit her lip for a moment before the brunette nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

While she was removing her shoes I couldn’t help but look at the generic, store-bought birthday cake sitting on the table complete with the scroll of “Happy Birthday Quinn” written in green gel frosting. I knew it was just a cake, but I hadn’t had one since I was twelve years old, my last birthday before my mother passed away.

No one had ever bothered since then and I had learned to ignore the day, as my grandfather had always told me that being born isn’t an accomplishment to be celebrated.No one except my sister had cared to celebrate me; even Fletcher knew not to bring up my birthday. But this? Fuck, why were my eyes stinging?

Maybe it was because Georgia Clark had gone out of her way to buy me a cake and I didn’t know what to do with this blossoming sensation in my chest.

Part of me knew what the feeling was. And the wiser part of me pushed it down, cleared my throat, and took out some plates.

Chapter 24

Georgia

How I found myself sitting on Sebastian Quinn’s ridiculously comfortable sofa sharing a plate of sushi, I would never know. Actually, I kind of did. It started with me being a nosy bitch; I mean, it wasn’t like I had to put my ear to the door since said doors were so thin. The run-in with Quinn’s sister had unnerved me; it was too close for comfort. But I’d seen how Quinn had stiffened when Maria had mentioned that their grandfather would be in attendance; though he hadn’t told me much, I’d gathered that he and his grandfather weren’t exactly close.

I had argued with myself for ten minutes before placing an order of sushi, fried rice, and lo mein at the local sushi place down the street. Obviously, I’d had no idea what the man preferred sushi-wise so I just got the top ten rolls. The man on the other end of the line struggled to keep up with me as I ordered the mountain of food, hoping that he liked a few of them. Maybe with the extra money that I would be receiving, I should be more than able to afford it. The drive there and back was precarious, the knocking of my engine only dulled by the volume of the music I’d chosen to drown it out—along with the sticker of a cartoon cat I had placed over the check engine light.

While hauling the oversized bag of sushi I stopped, the faint glowof the only open grocery store across the street giving me an idea. I pulled in, wondering for the hundredth time if this was a stupid idea. There was just something about how Quinn had looked when Maria mentioned his birthday, the way he’d spoken in the foyer of the complex.He’d sounded depressed and resigned. Andno oneshould feel like that on their birthday.Heshouldn’t feel like that on his birthday.

So I picked up a cheap box cake, the last one available at such a late hour. Ringing the bell at the counter, I looked around the nearly empty grocery store. A tired-looking employee trudged in from the back, his white apron smeared with colored frosting.

“Hi, um, could you write something on this?” I asked, pushing the cake across the counter. The man looked at me, then the cake and the clock on the wall.

“It’s 8:30 at night.” He stated, looking more annoyed with every passing second. I sighed, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, and said, “I know it’s late, but here’s a tip.”

The man regarded my money before looking around and pocketing it in the grocery store's apron before pulling on some gloves. “What do you want it to say?”

“Happy Birthday Se—Quinn. Happy Birthday Quinn.”

Sebastian Quinn reached over me,his muscular body pressing against mine as he speared and snatched a veggie roll from the pile.

“Did you order the whole menu?” He asked around bites as the sounds of a battle raged on the TV in front of us, throwing the entire room into a dark red glow.

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