Page 13 of One Night Entanglement
“Well, this is your Lazarus moment and we should celebrate… Wanna go out tonight?”
I feel the smile stretching across my face. “Quinn Carter, are you asking me to go on a date with you?”
“I am if you’re saying yes.”
“It better involve tacos and margaritas or you’ll never get a second date,” I tease.
“I think I can manage that.”
We end our call. It’s a little awkward, but not in the regretful way. In the hopeful way. Neither one of us wants to put any pressure on the other so we’re being careful, I guess. And that’s not a bad thing. We need to be careful with one another. Quinn and I hurt each other—the stupidity of youth and the inability to just be truthful, whether with each other or ourselves, cost us a lot of years. I’m not exactly picturing fairy-tale endings with picket fences here, but I’m not discounting it either.
For the first time in a very, very long time, things finally seem to be going my way. That scares me. I don’t want to get blindsided. But I can’t worry about that now. I have a date to get ready for and I want to knock his socks off.
I make another call.
“Hey, Cec. What’s up?”
“Lizzie, I need to make Quinn’s jaw drop. Like I want that man to look at me and swallow his damn tongue.”
“You might not want him to do that, sweetie. That tongue could be useful later on… Meet me at the house at four-thirty. My last client cancelled on me. We’ll raid my closet and you’ll get the full makeover experience… but in exchange, I get details. Full details. No edits. Tea, Cecily. I wantthe tea.”
“You run the best and busiest salon in Bellehaven, you already have all the tea!”
“But not from the horse’s mouth… so just be prepared to spill it.”
“Full makeover? Nails too?”
“Sure,” she agrees.
I sigh. “Okay. I’ll give you all the tea… and I’ll see you at four-thirty.”
11
Quinn
Ipull into the parking lot at El Fuego, memories of my teenage years spent in this parking lot, some of it with Cecily, running through my head. This whole thing—taking her out, pretending like we're just two people on a date instead of a fucked-up married couple trying to figure our shit out—it's dangerous territory.
"God, I haven't been here in forever," Cecily says, adjusting the strap of her dress. It's this little black number that hugs every curve I remember and a few new ones I'm becoming acquainted with. "I used to come here all the time after long shifts. Maria always knew exactly what I needed."
I kill the engine and turn to look at her. "Figured you'd appreciate somewhere familiar. Somewhere that feels like home."
She smiles, and the expression hits me right in the chest. It's been too damn long since I saw her smile like that. "It does feel like home. Plus, you've never seen me eat their nachos at twoin the morning after a twelve-hour shift. Hopefully my dignity doesn't take a trip out into the ocean after tonight," she laughs.
"Your dignity's intact, sweetheart. Trust me on that."
The way she looks at me when I say that, like she's trying to figure out if I'm serious or just feeding her a line, makes my hands itch to touch her. Instead, I get out of the truck and walk around to open her door. Old habits and all that.
"Such a gentleman," she teases, but there's something softer in her voice now.
"My grandma raised me right."
El Fuego is one of those places that looks like it might give you food poisoning from the outside but serves the best damn Mexican food in three counties. The kind of hole in the wall that all of us who grew up here know about, but others drive right past. Perfect for what I'm hoping will be a quiet evening where we can just be Quinn and Cecily, not the mess we've made of our marriage.
The hostess seats us in a corner booth, and I'm grateful for the dim lighting. It makes everything feel more intimate, more like the dates we used to go on when we were kids and I'd scrape together enough money to take her somewhere nicer than the Dairy Dip.
"I've always loved the character this place has," Cecily says, sliding into the booth across from me.
"That's one way to put it." I pick up the menu even though I already know what I want. "You remember that place we went to in Lexington? Our senior year?"
