“What?” I say sharply.
Quinn shakes his head but can’t hide his smile. “Get dressed, Elle. If you come with me tonight, I’ll try to help you out with Ben.”
“Really?” I ask, hopping off my bed. “Are you serious, Quinn?”
“Serious, now get ready. I have to leave in ten minutes.”
I scream. “Ten minutes!”
“I warned you,” he says from down the hallway.
By the time I find something to wear, fix my makeup and put my hair up, it’s almost twenty minutes. Thankfully, Quinn didn’t leave me behind, not that he would, but he did give me a rash of crap for making him late. I promised to make it up to him later, although I don’t know what I’ll do.
In the car, I lean over and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Quinn.” He pats me on the leg. “I mean it. You’ve put up with a lot over the years, especially from me and more so lately. You could’ve ditched out on me, but you didn’t.”
“And you could’ve been horrible to me when our parents got together, but you weren’t. You and Peyton gave me a family and allowed your mom to become mine. You have no idea how much of an impact having a mom has had on my life.”
I pull my brother into a hug and try not to cry. While our dad is amazing, knowing his biological mom didn’t want him, has been hard on him, even if he denies it. Our mom though, she stepped up and adopted Quinn.
He finally puts the car in drive and heads toward the club where he’s performing. “Do you remember adoption day?” I ask.
“Badoption,” he corrects me. We were so young we had no idea what the process was called. All we knew is we wanted our parents to be our parents. “Not so much the actual day, but the day I asked Mom if she’d be my mom forever. I was so nervous, afraid she would say no.”
“Peyton and I felt the same way. We were scared that if Dad became our dad, we’d erase our father, but Dad was so adamant that Mason would always be a part of our lives.”
“We have great parents, Elle.”
“We do, don’t we, Quinn.”
For a few minutes, we ride in silence. I haven’t asked him about the band he wants me to check out, but I’m excited he’s thinking about my future. I’d love to sign someone before I finish school. Doing so means I have to start out on my own, and while I know I can do it and have some connections, I think I want to start at the bottom and work my way to the top with a firm, where I can expand my network and really excel. However, there’s one more thing I want more.
“I want a love affair like our parents have.”
“You mean have three kids and never get married?”
I laugh. He’s right. For some reason our parents won’t get married, which doesn’t matter anymore because they’re considered common law, but still. Both have been very adamant a piece of paper won’t change anything between them, so why get it. “No,” I say. “I want the kind of love where either of us walks into the room, and no one else exists. Noah and Peyton have it. I want it.”
“And when you walk into the room, who do you see standing there, waiting for you?”
“Ben,” I say. “It’s always been Ben. It's just taken me years to fig
ure it all out.”
24
Ben
My anxiety levels increase when I step into my cubicle. There’s a file on my desk that’s the size of a ream of paper, and there’s a sticky note from Margie sitting on top of it, asking me to go and see her. From my tiny space, I can see that the light is still off in her office, which gives me time to try and figure out what’s going on.
After taking off my jacket, I pull out my chair and sit down, setting my phone next to my monitor. I thought about calling Elle back all through the night, and the temptation was almost too strong to resist. I wanted to know what she wanted, but I couldn’t bring myself to make the call. As a result, I was up most of the night, waiting for her usual three a.m. calls. It was sometime between two and four in the morning when I realized I miss those calls. My time in New York is coming to an end, and while I’m not ready to leave because I love this job, I am ready to go back to California to see Elle. Since I left, her Instagram has been quiet, which is really unlike her. Her last post is a picture of the two of us, taken on my birthday. Seeing it hurts. Not only does it remind me of a night I’d like to forget, but it’s reminiscent of a friend I’ve lost.
“What’s that?” Talia asks as she hands me my cup of coffee. This week, she’s the coffee runner, filling our orders in the morning. Against my brother’s advice, I’ve splurged on Starbucks because it’s what I’m used to. I tried to drink the cheap stuff from the corner bodega, but couldn’t stomach it. He’ll be surprised to know I haven’t spent a penny of his money though, and I plan to give it back to him. I only have to figure out how to do so because Brad won’t take it if I hand it over to him.
“I’m not sure. It was here when I walked in.” I haven’t even flipped the cover yet to see what’s inside.
“Looks important. Is it from Margie?”
I nod, agreeing that it does look important. The question is, why’s it on my desk and where’s Talia’s copy? “I think it’s meant for someone else.” Which it could easily be since my name wasn’t on the note.