Perhaps not, but she had meant to push things along. Joyce had grown impatient and had taken matters into her own hands, so to speak. Not that stating the obvious would help either of them, Courtney thought. And even though she did consider Joyce a friend, the fact was the other woman was her boss. Not something she could forget.
She needed this job. Not only the pay, but also her living situation made her life convenient. She liked the hotel. She liked being around different people all the time. The hours made it easy for her to study. All of which meant she couldn’t lash out—not without accepting possible consequences.
“I’m sure you had the best of intentions,” she said at last. “Everyone knows now. I’m sure it will all turn out fine.”
“But you’re still angry.”
“I need a little time.”
“Courtney, I’ve known you since you were a little girl. We have to make this right between us.”
“We have. It’s fine.” Courtney held in a groan. Now she sounded like her mother.
“Are you sure?” Joyce’s voice was small as she spoke.
“Yes, of course.”
“I don’t believe you.” Joyce shook her head. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to your work.”
She walked away. Courtney headed in the other direction. She restocked her cart for the next day, signed out and started for her room. Halfway there, she changed direction and walked to Quinn’s bungalow. He answered her knock.
“What’s up?” he asked as he let her in.
“I’m crabby and mad at the world. Your grandmother wants everything to be all right between us. She’s my boss, so I can’t say what I really think. Not if I want to keep my job. My mom is hurt and angry, and suddenly Sienna and I are hanging out. Rachel’s still not talking to me and she’s the one I feel the worst about. Aside from that, I’m great. How are you?”
Quinn studied her for a second, then went into his bedroom. She followed, not sure what he was going to do. While she wasn’t exactly in the mood for sex, she was pretty sure Quinn knew which buttons to push to change that.
But instead of getting naked, he pulled a box out of his closet and handed it to her. She sank onto a chair when she saw what it was.
“Those high heels? Really?”
“Put them on and walk around. Trust me.”
She was well aware of how ridiculous she would look prancing around in Saint Laurent high heels in her khakis and polo shirt. But she also knew Quinn well enough to trust him. Crazy, but true. She pulled off her athletic shoes and white socks, then slipped on the pumps.
It took her a second to find her balance. Once she did, she walked the length of the bungalow and back. She felt the tension leave her body. Her shoulders eased and she was able to pull them back. Her breathing slowed and her mind stopped racing.
Quinn moved into the living room and she joined him.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He gave her that I’m a star smile and sank onto the sofa. “It’s hard being more than a pretty face, but I do my best.”
“Your best is damned good.” She sat opposite him. “I don’t like being mad at Joyce.”
“Then don’t be.”
“As simple as that?”
“Why does it have to be complicated?”
“Because relationships usually are.”
“Only if you let them be. She was wrong. You know she’s sorry for the results, but it’s unlikely she’s sorry for what she did. If you can accept that, then you forgive her and move on. If not, then you stay mad.”
“Where are you on that spectrum?”
“I’m punishing her.”
“How is that different?”
“She’s my grandmother. She’s not going to fire me. I’ll let her off soon enough, but for now I want her to think about what she did. She hurt you. I don’t like that.”
He spoke matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. Only, they were talking about her and he sounded...well, protective.
She didn’t know what to do with that information. Part of her wanted to hug it close and relive this moment over and over. Part of her wanted... Nope, she thought. There was no other part. There was just the hanging on. Because it had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her. She would guess the last person was Rachel, and they’d both been kids then.
“Thank you,” she whispered, thinking that she wasn’t going to ask why. Just in case the reason was he felt sorry for her. Better to simply hang on to the cuddling feeling.
“No problem. So what are you going to do?”
She looked at the shoes. She’d told herself she’d left them at Quinn’s because she wasn’t sure she was going to accept the gift. But the truth was she hadn’t taken them home because she wasn’t sure she was worthy. Whoever wore these shoes needed some attitude and a lot more confidence than she had.