All It Takes Read online

  “More than that, and yes, it’s new for me, I want to be with you. You make me laugh, and you’re damn smart. I’m attracted to that very much. And I’d like your company on Friday night.”

  She bites her lip and glances away, and I can’t stand it anymore. I cup her face and lower my lips to hers, needing to taste her.

  She’s spicy from the pizza and from her own sass. Her hands fist on my shirt at my sides, and I devour her, memorizing every inch, every sigh.

  I pull my mouth away and rest my forehead against hers.

  “That wasn’t just me.”

  “No,” she agrees.

  “Come with me on Friday.”

  She takes a deep breath, and just when I think she’s going to turn me down, she says, “Okay.”

  “You’re damn challenging.”

  A slow smile slides over her face.

  “Damn right I am.”

  Chapter Six

  ~Sienna~

  Whelp, I’ve officially lost my damn mind.

  I’m at a stoplight on my way home from Grandpa’s house, staring at myself in the rearview mirror.

  I look the same, but I don’t feel the same at all.

  I let Quinn Cavanaugh kiss me. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t just let him, I participated with equal enthusiasm. Because he’s not a good kisser.

  No, he’s a freaking exceptional kisser. The kind of kisser who should come with a damn warning label. He could win the kissing Olympics.

  And now my lips are ruined for all of mankind.

  “You’re in way over your head,” I scold myself in the mirror before the light turns green and I continue on my way.

  I had one of the best days that I can remember in a long time. Like I told Quinn, I’m no thrill seeker, but driving that car today was amazing.

  Dangerous.

  So out of character for me.

  And when we were done, and he ran to me, boosted me in the air and spun me around in excitement?

  Well, that might have been the best part of all. Seeing the pride in his brown eyes, and that big smile on his handsome face.

  He didn’t even give me a crazy guilt trip for winning, which surprised the hell out of me. The men I’ve been with, which have been few and far between, were not good losers. Their egos were ridiculously small, along with other body parts that I don’t want to think about.

  I had no illusions of grandeur today; I knew that Quinn would win that race. He told me that he’s driven that track since he was a kid and his dad put him in driving school there when Quinn showed a tendency to drive too fast, and his father wanted him to have the tools to be safe.

  However, I may be a safety girl, but I am also competitive, and when I got behind the wheel, it’s like I suddenly became someone else.

  I won by less than a car length.

  And although he teased me a bit, and was truly flummoxed that I won, he was also gracious and excited for me.

  And then he kissed me.

  “Dumb,” I mutter as I turn down my block. “Not only did you kiss him, you agreed to go out on a date with him. You know better than that.”

  Before I can continue to give myself a stern lecture, I see Louise sitting on my front porch, in the glow of my porch light.

  I get out of the car and walk up the sidewalk, and Lou stands, linking and unlinking her fingers nervously.

  “You have a key,” I remind her without saying hi. “You didn’t have to sit out here in the dark.”

  “I can’t just go inside when you’re mad,” she says and bites her lip. “And I’m really hoping that you’re not mad anymore because I don’t want to fight.”

  “Good because I need you.”

  “You do?”

  I unlock the door and she follows me inside. I set my briefcase by the door, my keys in their bowl, and then walk into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.

  I need a glass.

  Or four.

  “Wine?”

  “Yes, please.” Her voice is full of gratitude and relief. “And let me just say right now that I’m sorry for the other day. You’re right, and I didn’t want to hear it. I took everything back.”

  “Lou—”

  “It was the right thing to do,” she says, holding her hands up. “The sad thing, but the right one. I’ve been upset about Grandpa, and just everything lately. Shopping helps. But I don’t want to waste his money, and I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “I’m proud of you.” I pass her a glass of red and wrap my arm around her shoulders, then kiss her cheek. “You’re right, you did the right thing.”

  “Yeah, but you should have seen that Chanel bag, Si. It was to die for.”

  “And you can still buy it, after you get the rest of your finances figured out and on your feet, splurge on the bag. It’ll be a gift to yourself.”

  “I like that,” she says and sips her wine. “Okay, enough about me. What’s going on with you? What do you need me for?”

  “Ironically, I need you to go shopping with me this week.”

  Her brown eyes widen with anticipation and excitement. “I was not expecting that, but I’m all for it. What are we shopping for?”

  I tell her about Quinn’s invitation to the play premiere.

  “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “No, you don’t.” I narrow my eyes at her, and she just laughs. “I’ve been through your closet, and you don’t have anything appropriate for an opening. But I’m happy to help you shop. When should we go?”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule, but we have to go soon in case I need alterations.”

  “This will be fun,” she says and sips her wine again. “Quinn is sexy, but is he nice?”

  “So far, yes.”

  “Marry him, because sexy and nice are hard to find.”

  Well, as soon as possible didn’t happen. It’s Wednesday evening, and Lou and I are finally shopping for my dress. I was just too busy the past few days, but Quinn had to cancel for this evening, so I called Lou and here we are at Macy’s in a sea of retail heaven.

  “What about this?” I hold up a simple black dress and Lou wrinkles her nose.

  “I didn’t realize we were going for the grandma look for this.”

  “This isn’t a grandma dress.” I sound defensive, but then I give the lace and puffy sleeves another look and hang it back on the rack with a sigh. “You’re right, it’s a grandma dress.”

  “This is beautiful,” Louise says. She’s holding a gray dress with a simple strapless bodice and ruffly skirt. “With your complexion, you’d rock this.”

  “I love that.” I rush over to her and she holds it up to me.

  “It’s perfect.”

  “How much is it?”

  We both look for a tag and my heart sinks at the price.

  “I’m not spending twelve hundred dollars on a dress.”

  “It’s steep, but it’s so perfect for you, Si.”

  “I’ll keep looking. I have a budget of five hundred for the whole shebang. Dress, shoes, hair, and makeup.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  I pull a three-hundred-dollar dress off the rack and hold it up.

  “I’m not that funny. This is pretty.”

  “Yeah, for a prison guard.”

  “Louise, you’re not helping.” I roll my eyes and set the dress aside, then move on.

  “There are going to be a lot of people at this thing, Sienna, and they’re going to be wearing expensive things. You can’t show up in a three-hundred-dollar dress.”

  “Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing, and if Quinn doesn’t like it, he doesn’t have to take me. Now, are you going to help me with this or not?”

  “Of course,” she says with a disappointed sigh. “Here is a simple little black dress. With the right shoes and clutch, along with jewelry, we can work with this.”

  “And it’s only two hundred,” I say with excitement. “I’ll try it on. Here’s hoping it fits because we don’t have time
for alterations.”

  Twenty minutes later, I’m satisfied with the fit of the dress. It flatters my long legs and isn’t too low cut around the girls. I’ll feel sexy but not self-conscious.

  “It’s a keeper,” I say triumphantly. “And I can totally wear my black heels with it.”

  “No.” Louise shakes her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. Those heels are fine for work, and I’m being kind with that statement, but they are not okay for this dress. You want sexy, not matronly.”

  “They’re comfortable, they’re black, and they’ll match it fine.”

  “No. I’m not bending on this one, Sienna. We’ll find something on sale.”

  She drags me to the giant shoe section and finds five shoes off the bat that don’t break the bank and are appropriate for the occasion.

  “Wow, these are on sale for fifty bucks,” she says with excitement. “Try them first.”

  They’re black, and about two inches taller than the ones I normally wear. They’re not supercomfortable, but for the price, they’ll do.

  “Sold,” I announce. “This wasn’t so bad. I have some jewelry at home.”

  “And I can do your hair,” Lou says. “It’ll be like prom.”

  “God, I hope it’s not like prom.”

  My phone pings with a text. I glance down and smile when I see Quinn’s name.

  Hi Sienna. I need a favor. Do you mind coming into the city to meet at my office tomorrow night? I know it’s not ideal, but I have a late meeting, and I don’t want to lose another evening of work with you.

  “Oh my God, he doesn’t want to miss an evening with you,” Lou says and shakes my arm.

  “Stop reading over my shoulder.”

  “Not gonna happen,” she says with a laugh as I type out my response.

  Not a problem. I’ll bring a couple of boxes with me. What time should I be there?

  We take the dress and the shoes to the cashier. As she’s ringing up my purchases, Quinn replies.

  7:00 would be perfect. I’ll have dinner brought in.

  I reply with See you then and shove my phone in my bag, pay for my purchases, and Louise and I walk out to my car.

  “You’re going to look fantastic,” she says. What she doesn’t say is even though you were cheap and didn’t spring for the pretty dress.

  But this is who I am, and if Quinn doesn’t like it, well, he doesn’t have to.

  I pull up to Quinn’s office building the next evening and am not surprised to hear that he’s already buzzed me through security to park in the private lot, and he’s arranged to have two guys come down and carry the boxes up for me.

  Which is good because paper is heavy.

  “We have these, Ms. Hendricks. Follow us,” one of the young men says. They’re both in suits and look young enough to be law clerks or junior attorneys.

  I remember those days.

  They escort me up the elevator, and rather than walk into the conference room that I’d seen the last time I was here, they lead me in the opposite direction to Quinn’s office.

  I’m very interested to see how Quinn decorated his office.

  The door is open, so the guys walk ahead of me and place the boxes on a table across the room from his desk.

  The room is fucking huge. You could host a party for sixty people in this room. Quinn’s desk is massive and black, with two monitors, papers, pens and pencils, and folders covering half the surface. His chair is also black and large.

  It looks supercomfortable.

  The table where my boxes are now sitting is big enough to seat six. The boxes are on one end, and it looks like food containers are at the other.

  He also has a large gray couch, two yellow chairs, all situated before a fireplace.

  In contrast, my office is about the size of a cubicle and I had to rummage through a storage room to find a chair that wasn’t from 1955.

  “Hey,” he says after the guys leave and shuts the door behind them. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

  “It’s really not a problem,” I reply with a smile. “You come out my way every day, so it’s only fair that I come to you when you need me to.”

  He grins, and looks like he wants to say something, but there’s a knock on his door, and another man walks in.

  He looks like he could be Quinn’s twin.

  “I’m leaving,” he announces, then stops when he sees me. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “Finn, this is Sienna Hendricks. Sienna, this is my brother, Finn.”

  “Hi,” I say with a smile and shake his outstretched hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he replies. Jesus, the Cavanaughs have excellent genes.

  “Are you nervous?” Quinn asks Finn, who frowns and shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “I’m fucking terrified,” he admits, but then shrugs. “It’s a new thing for me.”

  “Why are you terrified?” I ask, not at all shy about asking. If they didn’t want me to know, they wouldn’t be talking about it in front of me.

  “I’m proposing to my girlfriend this weekend. After the show tomorrow night, we’re headed to our place at the beach.”

  “That’s right, Quinn mentioned it. Is that the ring?” I gesture to the blue box in his hand, and he smiles proudly.

  “Yes, do you want to see it?”

  “Hell yes, I want to see it.”

  Both men chuckle as Finn unwraps the box and opens the black box inside, revealing a pear-shaped diamond the size of a baby’s fist.

  Holy fucking shit. This looks like it belongs in the crown jewels.

  “Well?” Finn asks. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

  “If she doesn’t, she’s not a woman,” I reply when I find my voice. “This is absolutely stunning, Finn.”

  “Told you,” Quinn says and pats his brother on the back. “She’s going to lose her shit.”

  I think I just lost my shit.

  In fact, I know I did.

  That ring cost Finn more than I make in a year. I’ve lost sight of how different Quinn and I are while he’s been coming out to the Bronx to work with me. Despite the Porsche, I’ve forgotten how polar opposite we are on the financial spectrum.

  And I’m perfectly okay with not being wealthy.

  But Louise was right, I don’t fit in. My five-hundred-dollar budget for the show tomorrow night is a joke. Hell, the suit he’s wearing right now had to cost four times that much, and he’s just at work.

  In contrast, I’m wearing a suit that I got on sale for two hundred dollars.

  I’m not saying I’m less than him. I’m not.

  But I don’t belong here either.

  “Thanks for the confidence booster,” Finn says with a smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow night?”

  I nod, unable to admit that I’ve begun to consider pulling out of the date.

  But Quinn is all smiles as he escorts his brother to the door, confirms that we’ll be there early to see the family, and then turns to me when we’re alone.

  Jesus, I have to meet his family.

  “I’m not going tomorrow night,” I announce. My voice sounds high to my own ears, but I swallow hard and raise my chin, trying to look more confident than I am.

  Quinn’s eyes narrow as he pushes his hands in his pockets and walks slowly toward me.

  “What just happened here?”

  “I just can’t go. I’m sorry to do this to you last minute.” I walk over to the boxes on the table and take the lid off one, just to have something to do with my hands. “I think it’s best if we keep this strictly professional.”

  “Too late,” he says simply. I turn in surprise. He’s taken his jacket off, and he’s rolling his sleeves up his forearms. “And I’ve had a shit day, I didn’t get to spend time with you last night, and now you’re saying that you don’t want to go to London’s show with me. So I’m going to need an explanation.”

  “I’m sorry, Quinn, I just . . . You know—” I bite my lip and silently y
ell at myself to get it together. “It’s the normal things. I probably need to wash my hair, and I’ve felt a headache coming on for a few days now. Not to mention, I promised my sister I’d bake her a cake this weekend, so I might as well just get started on that.”

  Louise has never asked me to bake her a cake in her life, but he doesn’t know that.

  “Stop.”

  I set the papers that I’d picked up back in the box and turn to face him. He doesn’t look angry, or upset.

  He looks confused.

  Well, join the club, pal.

  “Sienna, this is not you. What’s going on here?”

  “I don’t belong here,” I blurt out and then hate myself for it.

  He frowns. “Of course you do. I asked you here.”

  “No. Yes, you did, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, then square my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll cut to the chase. I don’t intimidate easily. But I’m intimidated. Not professionally, let me just say that right now, although I’m certain that when you designed these offices it was with the intention that it would intimidate anyone who came here for meetings.

  “You did a good job of that, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Let’s skip to the personal part.”

  “You and I, we’re just . . . different.”

  “So? If we were exactly the same, it would be boring. And you’re not boring, Sienna.”

  How do I tell him that I don’t want to embarrass him? Or myself? That Quinn and his expensive lifestyle are just overwhelming and I don’t think I’m the right person to get mixed up in it?

  “You’re overthinking this,” he says and steps to me. Shit, if he touches me, I’ll do pretty much anything he wants me to.

  So I back away, and he scowls at that.

  “I don’t ever want you to back away from me like that. I would never hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I reply. Much. “But if you touch me, I’ll agree to whatever you propose, and I’ve made my decision.”

  “Because you think you don’t belong here, whatever that means.”

  He rubs his hand over his face in frustration.

  “We’re in different leagues,” I reply. “You’re chrome and glass and a Porsche, and I’m old offices and a Ford.”