Page 7 of How to Play the Player
Chapter Four
Quinn
Everything in me freezes at the sight of him.
Nathan. Here. Now. Oh, god.
“Hey, man.” Jake’s easy greeting cuts through the tension. “Glad you could make it.”
Nathan’s surprised expression makes it clear he wasn’t expecting to see me. He’s broader than I remember coming from the convention, his charcoal suit emphasizing the kind of success and power he’d always sought. Our gazes meet, and I’m thrown back to every late-night conversation about his vision of Knight Industries, every shared dream of climbing the corporate ladder and paving his own way.
The moment stretches between us; a thousand memories flash through my mind. Memories of before everything went wrong. Late nights planning our future, early mornings tangled in sheets, the way his laugh used to rumble through his chest and into mine when he held me. Warm Saturday mornings when he’d surprise me with coffee in bed, his fingers tracing patternson my skin. The way he’d look at me across crowded rooms like I was the only person who mattered. The talks we had about the house we’d someday build together. For me, he had been the definition of love—all-consuming and seemingly unshakeable.
But those memories are nothing more than ghosts now, haunting the corners of my mind.
Once the initial shock wears off, I watch a gamut of emotions pass across his features—primarily anger with something darker lurking beneath. The longer he stares daggers into me, the more I notice the tendon in his neck visibly tighten, a subtle tell I recognize from our most heated arguments. Interesting how the same physical cues can carry such different meanings now, like reading a familiar book but the ending is no longer the same. I maintain my professional mask, chin lifted slightly. I’ve worked too hard rebuilding my reputation to let his presence shake my composure now.
I never even worked for Knight Industries—Nathan had simply trusted me with confidential information as his girlfriend when he’d told me about their deal with NorthStar. His actions toward me when everything went down weren’t just unprofessional; they were deeply personal.
He must realize we’re not alone because then his gaze finally breaks away. He scans the room as he visibly wrestles his expression into something approaching neutral. But I know him too well. I used to at least. The tension in his shoulders, the slight tick in his jaw… His anger now simmers just below the surface, waiting to boil over.
“Hey, little bro.” Jonathan pulls him into a quick embrace, seemingly just as oblivious to the crackling tension. “Glad you could make it. We’ve been making progress on the PR strategy.”
“I can see that.” The words come out clipped, precise. Nathan’s attempt at controlling his tone only makes theunderlying rage more obvious to anyone who knows what to listen for.
I feel the weight of a few curious stares around the table, the air thick with unasked questions.
“Meet our wedding planner, Lyla, and our wedding PR consultant, Quinn.”
“Hi,” I begin.
Nathan doesn’t look me in the eye and instead chooses to turn his attention to his brother. “Got a minute to talk?”
Jonathan frowns, the first sign he’s picking up on the discord. His expression shifts to something carefully diplomatic. “Yeah. Follow me.”
I watch intently as the two men disappear down the hall and into what appears to be a study. The sliding door whispers shut behind them with a too-quiet click. The dining room plunges into the kind of silence that has weight, that presses against my skin.
Finally, Kami breaks the ice. “That was…something.”
Jake clears his throat, now recognizing the tension in the air just moments ago. “Uh, yeah.”
Then Kiera asks me the inevitable question, her voice gentle but direct: “Do you two know each other?”
What choice do I have but transparency? These people have been nothing but kind, and they deserve better than evasion. Besides, Nathan will undoubtedly tell his version of events. Better they hear something from me first.
“Yes.” I keep my voice steady, professional. “Nathan and I have a history. But that’s all it is—history.” I attempt a light laugh, trying to steer us toward safer waters. “Small world that we all know the same person, right?”
“Yeah…real freaky.” Lyla jumps in, bless her, trying to back my play.
The sound of her voice sends a rush of guilt through me. My baggage shouldn’t hijack her client relationship. Nathan should be the least of my worries, but his presence threatens to unravel this very opportunity for me. Threatens to spoil everything I’ve rebuilt since striking out on my own.
My mind races with possibilities. What are they saying in that study? Is Nathan telling Jonathan about our past? Will I lose this opportunity before it truly begins? Or worse—will Jonathan ensure I never work with another high-profile client in Dallas again?
How do I defend myself against Nathan’s accusations about information that leaked while I was nowhere near my phone or any electronic device? The day my world exploded my computer was sitting on my desk at home and my phone was locked in a box since the bride and groom wanted an off-grid aesthetic.
“A small world, indeed.” Kami’s voice pulls me back to the present. Her expression carries a hint of amusement and intrigue. I’m sure for these people, on the outside looking in, this has to look like prime gossip material, the kind of drama that would make anyone invested enough to listen for more. If I were in their shoes, I’d be just as curious.
But I’m not. I’m the PR consultant who has to somehow salvage this situation. I’ve faced impossible ones before. I can do it again.
