Blinded by betrayal, I'd pilfered a pistol and crept into Stefan’s room in the middle of the night. Pointing the gun under my chin, I'd told him I was going to eat a bullet or he was going to give me his word as a Quinn that he wouldn’t marry me off. There had been no doubt in either of us that I would have done it. Breaking me of my fear of death had bitten him in the ass. I'd been so emotionally fucked up, my finger had itched to pull the trigger. He'd given me his word he wouldn’t, then hadn't spoken to me for weeks after. He'd been so mad, he'd refused to even look at me. I'd made the boss bend to my will. There was no greater sin.
Stefan’s voice broke me out of my memory. “Take a couple of weeks to relax and really think before you make any decisions on what you want to do.” It was an order, not a suggestion.
I nodded, because I was a little lost for words. Had he just made me talk about my feelings and instead of using them against me, he'd listened and kind of reassured me? He really was trying. Wow. Now I feel bad for being an asshole.
Hesitant at first, I did something I hadn’t done in a long time. I reached out to place my hand on Stefan’s arm. It was a small gesture of affection. For us, it felt huge. “Sorry for being a bitch,” I mumbled. Stefan stiffened, eyes dropping to my hand. Feeling stupid, I was about to pull away when he stopped my retreat by patting the top of it. It was completely awkward.
I glanced at Jamie, who’d been quiet during the entire exchange. He appeared bored. This wasn’t his first time witnessing our father-daughter drama and it probably wouldn’t be the last. I noticed the whiskey decanter had been moved from where I'd placed it in front of me to his side of the table, out of reach. The klepto had lifted it without me realizing. “Why are we friends, again?” I asked, looking from the decanter to him.
A slow smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’re the one who was hogging it.”
“You want a glass?” I asked Stefan as I stood and ventured back to the liquor hutch.
“I do.”
I grabbed two crystal glasses and placed them in front of Jamie and Stefan.
The swinging door leading into the kitchen opened inward. Jeana, Stefan’s personal chef who had been cooking in this house since I'd been two, walked in carrying our food. “Miss Maura, welcome home!” she beamed with a genuine smile as she served us each a plate of heavenly smelling food. Jeana was a very nice lady who liked to mother everyone.
“Thank you,” I gave her a small smile back before looking down at my dish. Recognizing it, my excitement rose and my heart warmed. “Is this Grandma’s cottage pie?”
“It sure is. Your daddy said you were coming to dinner tonight. I figured I’d make one of your favorites,” Jeana said, giving my shoulder a gentle pat, then she returned to the kitchen.
I used my fork to cut through the crusty roof of mashed potatoes into the stew beneath. The vegetables were soft like butter and the meat was perfectly tender.
“Damn, that’s good,” I moaned around a mouthful of food.
Stefan chuckled as he dug into his own pie while Jamie gave me a strange look.
“What?”
“Did you not eat for the past six years? I swear every time you eat something, you do that.”
“Is this you trying to be funny?” I teased him.
He shook his head, trying to hold back a smile. “You have a weird relationship with food.”
“I’m sorry I’m not one of the anorexic skanks you like to pounce and bounce. I wouldn’t want to get you all hot and bothered by pushing my food around my plate, pretending to eat.”
He smirked. “You’ve been showing a lot of interest in my sex life today.”
“Ha!” I laughed mockingly. He’s delusional. “Someone needs to monitor your Louie exposure. The last thing we need is two egotistical boneheads running around.”
“Deflecting?” The asshat was successfully ruffling my feathers, but I still grinned like a loon. If he wanted to play, then I’d play.
“Oh, Jamie. I don’t think I’m your type. I don’t have a gag reflex. How would I purge all this yummy food for you?”
“You learn that at your fancy college?” The muscle along his jaw looked strained, telling me he was fighting not to laugh. I was fighting it as well. I hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. It was nice to have someone to spar with who wasn’t easily offended.
“Children, play nice,” Stefan said.
Like the boss man ordered, we stopped our bickering. Jamie and I both dug back into our food. I made it a point to enjoy my next bite loudly and obnoxiously.
CHAPTER 12
After dinner, I went back to my room to find the couch, chair, coffee table, and every other flat surface covered with bags and boxes filled with clothes, shoes, and accessories. When I read the labels, I had a mini heart attack. All of it was designer. I opened a Louboutin box first and about cried when I saw the most beautiful shoes I’d ever seen. They were silky champagne satin pumps with tassels and the signature red soles. Holy shit!
Opening that first box was like a drug. A frenzy took over. I started ripping open bags and boxes one after another like an excited kid on Christmas morning. By the time I was done opening the last bag, my room was a mess. Tissue paper and packaging was thrown askew all over my floor as I sat on the couch surrounded by the best wardrobe money could buy. All the lingerie was French—each piece was sexy yet beautiful. The shoes were to die for. The clothes ranged from casual to evening gowns. There was even a few daring yet professional pant suits. Where the hell am I going to wear those?
Growing up, Stefan had given me an allowance that had allowed me to shop at the mall. Money had never been the issue. He'd been trying to teach me the value of things and not raise me to be a spoiled brat. I respected that. All these clothes, though, they reminded me of what was in his closet. Stefan was an unashamed clothes snob. He didn’t own anything that wasn’t designed by Armani, Tom Ford, or Alexander McQueen.
“I see you discovered your new wardrobe.”
I turned toward my bedroom door. Stefan was leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes roamed around the room, taking in the aftermath of my raid.
“Um…” I couldn’t figure out what to say.
“If there’s anything you don’t like or if there’s anything you still need, let Angela know. She’s going out again tomorrow.”
I loved everything. Angela had excellent taste. “Not to sound ungrateful, but isn’t this a bit much? I would have been happy with clothes from a regular department store.”
Stefan stepped into the room. Tossing a box off of the armchair, he took a seat. “Now that you’re back, like everyone else in this family, you will have a role. What role that is, I’m not sure yet. I figured we could take the next couple of weeks to find where you’re best suited.”
“That doesn’t explain the clothes.”
“I wanted to give you a little more time to settle in before I approached you with this.” He sighed. “I’d like it if you’d start shadowing me. Sit in on some meetings. See how I interact with those who work for and with the family. This will give you a crash course on how everything works. It’s just for learning purposes. If you find you don’t like something or if you are uncomfortable, we’ll proceed from there. As for the clothes, you’re my daughter and a woman now. You need to dress the part.”