Page 2 of Pleasure and Mane
"That's kind of you, but I'm afraid unwinding isn't in my vocabulary tonight." Quinn put her phone in her purse, her smile apologetic but firm. "It was lovely meeting you, Shawn. And Emma."
Quinn stepped away quickly to get some fresh air.This is just too much tonight.
The summer evening air hit Quinn's face like a benediction as she stepped through the glass doors onto the civic center's stone balcony. The red silk of her dress whispered against her legs, the fabric clinging to curves she rarely acknowledged but couldn't ignore in this particular garment. Her heels clicked against the stone as she moved toward the railing, grateful for the reprieve from forced smiles and hollow networking.
Denver's skyline glittered below, office lights creating constellations against the darkening sky. Quinn inhaled deeply, letting the cool air fill her lungs and wash away the lingeringscent of Marcus's expensive cologne. Her fingers traced the smooth stone of the balustrade as she tried to shake off the weight of the day—twin boys, breach presentations, and now this elaborate dance of charity politics when all she wanted was her kitchen table and a cup of tea.
"That dress is absolutely stunning on you, dear."
Quinn turned to find a petite woman approaching with the confidence of someone who owned every room she entered. Despite barely reaching Quinn's shoulder, she commanded attention in her impeccably tailored navy pantsuit, her white hair gleaming under the soft patio lighting. Her eyes held an unusual quality—blue that seemed to shift toward gold in the ambient glow.
"Thank you." Quinn smoothed the silk self-consciously. "Though I'm afraid I look like I've been through a blender tonight."
"Nonsense." The woman's smile carried genuine warmth. "I'm Gerri Wilder, and I've been watching you navigate that stuffy crowd in there with remarkable grace. Quite impressive, especially considering you've just spent ten hours bringing new life into the world."
Quinn's eyebrows lifted. "How did you?—?"
"Your hands, dear. You can always tell a midwife by her hands. Plus, that particular exhaustion that comes from witnessing miracles." Gerri moved closer with surprising grace for someone in four-inch heels. "I must confess, I'm one of those stuffy donors myself, but I like to think I'm the fun kind of stuffy."
A laugh escaped Quinn's lips before she could stop it. "Well, you're certainly more direct than most of the people inside."
"Direct is my specialty. Along with reading between the lines." Gerri's golden-flecked eyes seemed to catalog every detailof Quinn's face. "You look like a woman who's forgotten how to put herself first."
The observation landed with unexpected accuracy, and Quinn found herself responding with uncharacteristic honesty. "I know I look a mess tonight. Like I'm barely keeping it together. Because honestly, that's exactly how I feel inside right now."
Quinn blinked in surprise at her own admission, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.Why am I telling a complete stranger this?
"It's okay, dear. People tend to open up around me, I'm afraid." Gerri's grin held mischief. "I must have one of those faces—the kind that makes people want to get things off their chest. Very inconvenient at dinner parties."
Quinn studied the older woman's expression, noting the knowing glint that suggested depths beneath her playful exterior. "You seem like someone who's heard plenty of secrets."
"More than my fair share. But yours isn't really a secret, is it? You're just overdue for some good fortune." Gerri leaned against the railing with casual elegance. "The universe has a way of correcting these imbalances, you know. Fate likes to even the scales."
"Fate?" Quinn's smile turned skeptical. "I'm more of a work-hard-for-what-you-want person than a wait-for-the-universe kind of woman."
"Oh, but the best things happen when those two forces align." Gerri's eyes sparkled with what looked suspiciously like insider knowledge. "Speaking of alignment, I have the most interesting feeling about your immediate future. Something about compatibility, and a certain someone who's absolutely perfect for you."
The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, and Quinn felt heat rise up her neck. "I appreciate the sentiment, but?—"
"Someone strong, loyal, intensely protective. And very, very good with his hands." Gerri's tone held the same casual confidence she might use to discuss the weather. "The kind of man who works with purpose and knows exactly what he wants."
Quinn's laugh came out breathy and uncertain. "You're very... specific."
"Let's just say, I have excellent instincts about these sorts of things."
The older woman's certainty left Quinn feeling strangely exposed, as if Gerri could see needs Quinn barely acknowledged herself. "I don't have time for romance in my life. My schedule doesn't exactly allow for dating."
"Why do you believe that?"
The simple question caught Quinn off guard. "Because I'm overburdened and completely committed to my patients. It's a midwife thing, putting their needs ahead of my own." Quinn paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Besides, I don't believe in fate or magic. Only hard work, dedication, and compassion. And honestly, relationships are a luxury I can't afford right now."
Gerri nodded, completely unfazed by Quinn's firm declaration. Her amusement seemed to deepen rather than diminish. "That's what they all say."
Her response hung between them, filled with implications Quinn couldn't quite grasp. She straightened her shoulders, retreating into professional politeness. "Thank you for your support of our cause, and please enjoy the rest of the evening."
Quinn turned toward the doors, her heels tapping against the stone as she walked away. Something compelled her to glance back once, and she found Gerri watching her with that same knowing smile, as if they'd just concluded business rather than casual conversation.
A strange pull tugged at Quinn's chest—an inexplicable sense that something fundamental had shifted in the span of their brief exchange. The feeling followed her back through the glass doors, settling along her shoulders like invisible silk.
