Page 50 of The Unforgiven
“What do you want him to shoot?”
“Get footage of whatever you think is important, particularly the interior of the plantation house, the slave quarters, and the French Quarter. That’s where Madeline lived before her father died, correct? We’ll use the footage to build sets and shoot the episode on a sound stage. And get shots of the bayou.”
“I haven’t had any visions of Madeline in a bayou,” Quinn replied.
“That doesn’t matter. The bayou is mysterious and picturesque, and always associated with Louisiana. We’ll find a way to use it.”
“All right, Rhys. How’s the weather in London?”
“Pissing as always. And it’s cold. By the way, I’m meeting Sylvia for lunch tomorrow. She’s bringing Emma. Any suggestions? I don’t often do lunch with four-year-olds.”
“Sylvia is bringing Emma?” Quinn asked, confused. Emma wouldn’t be at school on a Saturday, but why would she be with Sylvia?
“Emma is staying with Sylvia for a few days. Didn’t Gabe tell you?”
“Yes, of course,” Quinn lied. She had no desire to explain to Rhys that she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Gabe and had no idea he’d dropped Emma off at Sylvia’s, a decision Quinn couldn’t easily explain. Gabe barely knew Sylvia and wouldn’t leave Emma with her unless he was in dire straits. What the heck was going on? “I forgot. Just go anyplace that has a children’s menu.”
“Right. Good idea. I’ll call you on Monday.”
Quinn pushed away from the railing and began walking again. She needed the exercise after all the rich food Seth had been plying her with on a daily basis.
Quinn still had mixed feelings about the man, but she’d learned to accept that he would never be the father she’d envisioned. She had come to like him though, and would maintain a relationship with him once she returned home. Maybe he could even visit her one day.
She would miss Brett, who was undemanding company and seemed to enjoy spending time with her. Their shared interest in history and certain types of literature gave them something to talk about that wasn’t too personal or awkward. Brett came round mostdays after finishing his classes, and often took her to places of historical interest that he thought she might enjoy.
“Guess who used to live here?” Brett asked gleefully as they walked past an imposing house with wrought iron balconies and black shutters. The house was lovely, in a Gothic sort of way, but its aura smacked of something dark and forbidden.
“I have no idea. Who?”
“Anne Rice,” Brett announced after a dramatic pause, obviously expecting a reaction of some sort.
Quinn searched her memory, but drew a blank. “Who’s Anne Rice?”
“Oh, come on. Are you serious?”
Quinn smiled and shrugged. “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Interview with the Vampire.Lestat. Queen of the Damned. Have you never read the Vampire Chronicles? They’re awesome.”
“I’m not big on vampire lore.”
“It’s not lore, it’s fiction, and it’s brilliant. You have got to read it.”
“All right, I’ll look up the first book when I get home. Maybe I’ll have time to read it while I’m on maternity leave from the program.”
“Maternity leave?” Brett’s eyes widened. “Does Dad know?”
Quinn blushed furiously. She hadn’t told Seth she was expecting. It just seemed odd to blurt that out, and she wasn’t ready for his reaction. Early on, she’d explained that she didn’t drink, putting an end to Seth offering her glasses of wine and shots of Bourbon. This would be Seth’s first grandchild, and he might want to be involved in its life. Quinn would not prevent him fromforging a relationship with her child, but she simply wasn’t ready to figure out how it would all work. This baby was everyone’s first grandchild and would have more grandparents than any child alive. There would be rivalry, and there would be much awkwardness if Sylvia and Seth found themselves in the same room, or if Quinn’s parents had to share their grandbaby with Quinn’s biological parents.
“No, I haven’t told him yet. Haven’t found the right moment, I guess. Please don’t say anything, Brett. I’ll tell him in my own good time.”
Brett shrugged. His cheerful mood vanished, and he suddenly seemed ill at ease. “Look, do you mind if we go back to the hotel now? There’s something I need to do. You know, for school.”
“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Quinn asked, wondering why Brett seemed so out of sorts.
“Yeah, sure. Tomorrow.”
Brett walked Quinn back to the hotel and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Congratulations, Quinn. Dad will be thrilled when he finds out. See ya.” He gave her a lopsided smile and walked away, his mind already on other things.
