Page 44 of The Trust We Broke
I touch the edges of the bob. “You have no idea how much effort that took, though. This length is much easier.”
“Suits you. So, you’re a lawyer, now?”
I nod. “Yeah. I work in New York.” At least, I did. “I’m back here for a while, though, now. Assuming I don’t kill my parents.”
“That feels like something a lawyer might have a problem with.”
“I’d do a really good job of pleading my case. No judge would blame me.”
Quinn plates up a cinnamon bun. “You want this heated?”
I shake my head. “Don’t want all the icing to melt off.”
“Oh my gosh. Yes. I mean, I do it, but I hate that too.” She hands the plate to me, then returns to the coffee. “Where are you staying?”
“Up until ten minutes ago, I was staying at my parents’. As of right now, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, to be honest. I wish there were one of those corporate rental type places that are all over New York. Where you don’t know how long you are going to stay somewhere, so you can just settle for a second to find your feet while deciding what’s next.”
“Kinsey,” she says to the woman working next to her. “Can you cover for a few minutes?”
“Of course.”
Quinn tips her head to the far end of the counter, where there is an opening to the kitchen. “Are you serious about needing a place? Because I might be able to help you out.”
I realize Iamserious, and I have the funds to cover anything I want. “I am. Why?”
“One second.” She finishes off making my coffee and hands it to me. Then, she puts another cinnamon roll on a second plate. “This one’s for me. Come with me.”
I follow her through the back of the bakery to a door that currently stands open. “I used to live up here, but I recently moved in with my boyfriend. We literally just finished fixing it up to become a furnished rental. I’d happily let you take it on, say, a bi-weekly agreement if you wanted.”
We follow the staircase to another lockable door at the top. Quinn grabs a set of keys in her pocket and unlocks it. When we step inside, I immediately arrive in a nicely finished, bright apartment. The kitchen counter is white marble with a narrow vein of gray. The sink is lovely and deep. The chrome appliances reveal no expense has been spared.
“It’s beautiful, Quinn.”
“Thanks. It’s where my family lived, so it might be more space than you need. There are three bedrooms. But before I show you around, we should eat.”
She pulls out the stools at the breakfast bar. “Please. Sit. Damn, I should have made myself a coffee. Do you want to have a quick peek while I go make one? No pressure to take it, obviously.”
“Sure.” I nod. “That’d be great.”
Quinn heads back down the stairs, and I step into the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. I pass a beautiful bathroom, with a large white claw-foot tub. There are two equally sized bedrooms, each painted a restful white with accents in denim blue and sunflower yellow. There is no bedding on the bed, but the mattress is still in thick plastic wrapping, showing just how new everything is.
The main bedroom is beautiful, with an en suite bathroom in moody gray slate tile and dark marble. Sunlight pours into the bedroom through two large windows facing Main Street.
At the other end of the hallway is the main living room. It’s a large space with a wood table that seats eight, and a large sectional sofa. I’m just checking out the view from the window when Quinn reemerges with a coffee.
“Sorry about that. Please, come eat.”
I follow her back to the kitchen. “Your apartment is beautiful,” I say.
“Thank you. It’s been a journey.” Quinn smiles at me. “But it’s yours. If you want it.”
12
GRUDGE
“We had to know they’d reappear eventually,” Catfish says, looking at the video footage of the Midtown Rebels trying to break into our grow op.
Thankfully, after the last time someone broke into it, we took additional reinforcement precautions. Sturdier gates beyond the average bolt cutters, permanent guards with a rotation of prospects, and cameras that filmed their every move.
