I punched Steven’s number into the cell and only had to wait one ring for him to pick up, “Mr. Sullivan?”
“No, no- it’s Janie. Listen, we’re still at the site and I have to work late so that means dinner is off for tonight.” The words came out in a rush; Quinn crossed in front of me to a table, two plates in his hand, the smell of hot dogs making my mouth water.
“Oh…” I heard Steven audibly shuffle papers on the other end of the phone, “Wait a minute, where are you?”
“I’m-”
“You know what, scratch that. I don’t want to know. No problem about tonight. We’ll reschedule for after the Vegas trip.”
“Can you get together tomorrow for dinner instead?” Without really meaning to I walked closer to where Quinn sat eating his food. I watched him take a large bite of his hamburger. His jaw flexed, the muscles in his cheeks and neck were strangely mesmerizing. I may have been staring.
“Sorry, no can do babycakes. I’ve got a hot date.”
Movement from the suite door pulled my attention from Quinn; I watched with perplexed interest as two girls entered, both wearing skin tight t-shirts, which showed off their mid-drifts, and too short shorts. They each carried a tray laden with what looked like various glasses of alcoholic beverages.
“Um-” I was distracted by the presence of the girls and had to refocus on my conversation with Steven, “Um- that’s ok. We’ll just reschedule then.”
“Ok, sweetums. I’ll see you on Monday. And don’t let Mr. Bossy make you work too late. Buh-bye.”
Before I could respond Steven’s line clicked off. I let the hand holding the phone drop to my side and watched as one of the girls- who I shall call Girl#1- carried three large glasses, filled with what I assumed was beer, over to Quinn as the other girl- who I shall call Girl#2- unloaded the other glasses from the trays onto the bar. Girl#1 smiled at Quinn. It was what I recognized as a take-my-panties-off smile. My sister June used it quite frequently on members of the football team when we were in high school. It made me glower.
Much to my surprise and relief, Quinn didn’t seem to notice her smile. Instead he offered a curt, “Thanks.” and immediately lifted one of the beers to his mouth, taking a long drink. Girl#1 loitered at his table, watching him. I loitered at one side of the room, watching them. Girl#2 loitered by the bar, watching us all.
After a short moment, Quinn looked from Girl#1 to Girl#2 then briefly to me. He shifted on his seat then dismissed them, “I’ll let Jamal know if we need anything else.”
I didn’t miss the disappointed frown cloud over Girl#1’s face as she left. I also had some difficulty explaining to myself the small smile tugging at my lips when the door closed. I stood in place, Quinn’s phone still in my hand, and continued to watch him eat. He took big bites. Every time he took a bite it was like 25% of the hamburger went missing. I think he actually finished it in four bites.
I was abruptly pulled from my musings by the sounds of his voice, “So, you finished your calls?”
I blinked at him then nodded, “Yes. Yes, calls all finished.” My thumb moved over the smooth screen of his phone. I moved to intercept his table and placed his cell on the surface, “Here is your phone. Thank you again for letting me use it.”
“Anytime.” his eyes moving over me in that way he sometimes employed: a plain, open assessment. It always made me uncomfortable and warm and flustered. He lifted his chin toward the bar, “I don’t know what you drink so I ordered a few things.”
I moved my attention to where he indicated and scanned the glasses sitting on the end of the bar; “Should we-” I cleared my throat and motioned with my hand toward the three glasses of beer in front of Quinn, “should we be drinking while we’re working?”
Quinn took a bite of his hotdog and shrugged, “We’re not working now.”
“But we’re not done, we still have the review of new crowd control measures and-”
Quinn interrupted me with a wave of his hand, “I spoke to Jamal. That part of the tour is off, we’re done for today.” As though to emphasize this fact, Quinn took a long swallow from his glass, finishing another third of the contents before he set it down.
“Oh.” I blinked. I was befuddled and when I am befuddled I tend to speak my thoughts as they occur to me rather than engage in an internal dialogue like a normal person, “So that means I didn’t need to cancel my dinner plans?”
Quinn’s jaw ticked, his mouth was curved into a frown, “I guess not.” he placed three chips in his mouth and made a loud crunching sound as he chewed. His eyes were trained on me as his jaw worked and I felt a now familiar anxiety under the piercing weight of his gaze.