Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1) (30 page)

“I’m okay. Just tired, but it’s par for the course with an infant,” she coos at Michaela over my shoulder as I lift her out of her overly flowery car seat.

Dragging my eyes from the baby in my arms, I smile at Ash. “Well, you look great for being tired and just having a baby. Motherhood really suits you.” It honestly does. She may not be dressed to the nines or have makeup on, but she has a beautiful glow about her lately.

“Thanks,” she beams at me. “I won’t lie, though; I can get pretty cranky. I punched Tanner in the arm the other night because he was snoring so loud, and I couldn’t fall back asleep after feeding the baby. Then he offered to get a nanny to make things easier for me. I punched him again for even suggesting I couldn’t handle raising my daughter without help.”

A tiny grin of satisfaction flashes across her face. “You look pretty proud of yourself.”

“I am,” she confirms.

“How long is he in the dog house for on that one?” I laugh imagining the shock that must’ve been on Tanner’s face as Ashley punched him.

She throws her answer over her shoulder as she heads into the living room, “Well, he made me breakfast in bed the next morning while I was feeding the baby, so he made up for it.”

“I’m sure he only meant it as a way to be helpful. He’s probably feeling a little guilty because we see more of his ugly mug at the field than you do at home,” I offer as I take a seat next to her on the couch and settle the baby into the crook of my arm.

“But he shouldn’t. I’m not resentful or feeling anything close to it. I just get a little moody at times.” she explains kicking her feet up on the ottoman. “Besides, she sleeps pretty well from what I’ve been told, and I nap when she does. We have a housekeeper, so I already have it pretty good.”

“So if everything’s okay at home, what’s really going on?” I ask.

“Something’s going on with Quinn,” she says, picking at non-existent lint on her pants.

There’s a lot that’s been going on with Quinn. And whenever something is going on with Quinn, it seems to do some severe damage to my emotions. Even with wanting to get her back, or at least get my closure, part of me wants to avoid the subject of her altogether. I’m safer that way, but that won’t get me anywhere. I need to man the fuck up and see what Ashley has to say. “That’s pretty non-specific, Ash.”

“The two of us have pretty much been on the outs since Michaela was born,” she sighs as she shifts to face me from her position on the couch. “Right before I went into labor, she came over to tell me she’d accepted Jordan’s proposal. I started to freak out on her, but then my water broke and we never got any further into the discussion.”

Jordan. Even his name proves he doesn’t belong with Quinn. Quinn and Jordan, it just doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven. “Okay, do you not like Jordan?”

“I don’t even know him,” she tells me with an angry huff.

If Quinn, who doesn’t believe in commitment, is opting to attach herself to this guy in something as serious as marriage, this can’t be something new. If their relationship has led them to this point, how could Ashley not know him? These women are extremely close. They’ve always shared everything. “You’re her best friend, how do you not know the man she’s marrying?”

Ashley’s agitation is rising. Her face hardens and her fists ball at her side. Her eyes have gone glacier as she answers. “She didn’t pick him, her parents—or her father more precisely—told her she was marrying him. She fought against it for a while, and then out of the blue, she comes to tell me they’re getting married.” Disdain drips from each word as it leaves her mouth.

An arranged marriage? What is this—the eighteen century? Why the fuck would Quinn need to be in an arranged marriage? I can’t see Quinn agreeing to that. She was always so against anything about being tied down. It doesn’t make any sense. Not to me. Not to Ashley. Unless…

“Do you think maybe she has been set up for a long time? It could explain why she’s always been so against being with someone. If she knew at the end of the day she was promised to someone else; it would explain her need to stay at arm’s length from men.” Men as in me. She has never gotten close to anyone before me. We all know it.

Shaking her head, she disagrees. “I don’t think so. There’s no way I wouldn’t have caught wind of something like that in the last ten years. Quinn gets very chatty when she’s drunk, especially back in college. Something would’ve slipped at some point.”

“What did she say when you guys finally talked about it? Have you talked about it yet?” Something seems funny, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“She told me I need to trust her, and she knows what she’s doing,” she whispers, her voice filling with sadness.

I examine Ashely’s face as I ask my next question. I want to see her eyes as she answers because I want to know if she’s going with her gut or her head by saying what she thinks she should say as her friend. “Do you trust her?”

“No. I don’t. Not with this. This is the opposite of the Quinn we all know and love. The fact that she’s been ignoring me for the last week goes to prove that she’s not herself. The last conversation I had with her, her spark was missing. She’s passive when she used to be aggressive. She’s withdrawing. I swear she looked like she lost weight at the christening.” I can hear the firmness in her voice when she replies. She really doesn’t trust her right now.

“I haven’t been around a lot the last two years, Ash. Is this normal for her since this whole Jordan thing started?” For all I know, this even more distant Quinn could be the new everyday Quinn.

“No,” she says sternly. “She’s been present in our lives just as much as she’s always been. Maybe not as much as when we lived together, but we were still getting together weekly, texting, emailing, you know the usual. She’s never just flat out dropped me before. And when I told her I wasn’t going to let her go through with this, she didn’t even try to fight to change my mind. She just let it go. Something’s wrong.”

Knowing women can be spiteful sometimes, I ask the obvious. “Did you do something to piss her off?”

“No. I haven’t even talked to her since the beginning of last week. She called to ask us to dinner with her and Jordan, but we’d just agreed to help you and Tiff with her boxes and stuff. All she said was something about calling her when I had time for her. I don’t see how she could be mad because we were spending time with you. She knows how close we are. We spent time with you every time you came back home.” She shakes her head in confusion.

I have a feeling it has nothing to do with her spending time with me at all. “Tiff’s idea was to make Quinn jealous. Has she said anything about us being together?”

Cocking her head to the side, she gives herself a minute to think before pausing as if a light bulb just went on in her head. “She did mention something about how Tiffany should’ve moved out with you and worried about a job later. She cut me off before I got the chance to say anything else and then I kind of just forgot about it. I’ve got my hands full here,” she nods toward Michaela. “But even if that’s the case, why would she be mad at me? You dating has nothing to do with me.”

“She’s been giving you the cold shoulder since you told her you guys were hanging with Tiff and me, who she most likely thinks is my girlfriend. She’s either pissed you aren’t spending time with her and Jordan, which you said you aren’t, or she’s jealous that for once she’s out of the loop. It used to be the four of us all the time. Now there’s a different fourth person,”

We both sit there silently for a moment or two, but I guess for entirely different reasons. I’d bet the farm Ash is trying to dissect everything she just said to see if she can find some kind of answer while I’m sitting here in pure shock. I don't want to get my hopes up or anything, but shit seems to be pretty obvious. It’s hard to hold back the grin that spreads across my lips.

“I think you’re enjoying this little revelation you’re having right now a little too much,” she smirks at me.

“Oh come on. I’m human. She broke my heart. Sue me if I find it a little satisfying she’s jealous you’re hanging with me and my pretend girlfriend.”

“You know, you might just be right,” she says shaking her head in amusement. “I did happen to tell her that I like Tiffany.”

I can’t help but laugh. This is actually pretty huge. If she still has feelings for me, then I still have a chance to get her back.

“You knew her better than anyone else, Alex. What the hell should I do? I don’t support her marrying this guy, but she doesn’t give a shit about my opinion,” she gets serious again. “I don’t want to push her away, but I also know from lots of experience sometimes we do things we think are right when they’re completely wrong.”

Michaela starts to stir in my arms. I’m not great with crying babies, particularly when they’re this small. So I hand her over to her mother as I answer. “Do what Quinn does to everyone else when they’re acting like a fool. Find your opening and call her ass out on it. Tell her how you really feel. You said that she’s become passive, give her something to fight for. Remind her of the person she used to be and how you miss having her in your life. You need to find a way to get her to open up to you. Until we know the real reason behind her doing this, we have nothing to work with.”

“Hmm,” she puffs. “That should be fun.”

I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that blow up happens. It seems to me Quinn has a lot going on and she doesn’t want Ashley to know. Quinn has never been ashamed of anything. Whatever is happening has to be something pretty major. Which has me intrigued and worried at the same time. I’ve learned a lot in this little pow-wow. A fiancé she didn’t choose, secrets and what seems to be an open and shut case of envy. There’s a lot I can do with all this if Ashley can get just a little more information for us to work with.

Quinn

I swear to God if I get one more email from the fucking wedding planner with pictures of wedding shit to choose between, I’m going to murder someone. Doesn’t this bitch get I don’t really give a fuck? What didn’t she understand about simple and elegant? I don’t give a shit what all the other people are doing this wedding season or which fucking song is the new hit for the first dance. All I care about is making sure this thing doesn’t turn into a circus, which is the only reason I’m not letting my mother plan this shit.

At first, I was okay with letting Mom organize everything, even let her talk me into having the whole thing at St. Regis after she found out they had a cancelation. But when I got pictures of fucking ice sculptures, I put a halt to all her decision-making privileges. She forgets this isn’t some epic love story. There’ll be no releasing of doves or cheesy written vows. A simple freaking wedding. But no matter how many times I say it, no one fucking listens to me.

Between Mom and the wedding monster, Sarah, I’m at the end of my rope. They nagged the fuck out of me until I picked a date, and when that was taken care of they moved on to bridesmaid dresses. With the wedding at the end of October, everyone’s in a tizzy because we were only giving everyone a little over five weeks to plan.

I picked out the dresses and sent emails to Blair, Ashley, and Jordan’s cousin, Emma, yesterday. That’s my wedding party. We kept it simple. I don’t have a very large circle of friends, and my family sucks ass, so the choosing part was pretty easy. Jordan asked me to add Emma because they’ve always been pretty close. Fine with me. It’s not like I care. Sarah scheduled the fitting times with the dress place, so I just had to inform everyone where they have to be and when.

I’m looking at an email with a bunch of freaking flowers which all look the same when a loud knock on my office door startles me from my scowling.

“Come in,” I call out, closing the email, thankful for a distraction, but I swear I haven’t gotten any work done since this whole shit started.

“Where the hell have you been?” a very pissed off Ashley growls at me as she slams the door shut.

Plastering a fake smile on my face, which I seem to be doing an awful lot lately, I say, “Well, hello to you too.”

“We passed hello about twenty ignored calls ago. You’ve been dodging me for over two fucking weeks, Quinn. Then I finally hear from you, and it’s to tell me you’ve picked a date and demand me to be at the dress shop for my fitting in two days. Is this how we communicate with each other these days?” she raises her voice at me as she paces the length of my desk like a lunatic.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you, and since when do you care about my wedding?” I throw back at her, pissed off she’s throwing a fit because I didn’t call her when I picked a date for the wedding she’s still very against.

“Don’t make me out to be the bitch here, Quinn. Just because I don’t agree with you going through with this whole charade doesn’t mean I want to hear about it through email. Do I mean so little to you after all these years of friendship that you can’t pick up a fucking phone and call to say ‘Hey, I picked a date’ or ‘I’m getting married at the end of October’?” she continues her rant, this time, stopping in front of my desk and placing her hands on it as she scolds me as if I’m a child.