Page 48 of Home Coming

“Yes.”

“Put him on, please.”

She didn’t like Xander trying to go over her head, as if Quinn were the boss of her and she’d do what he said.

Was Xander delusional?

Quinn was on her side and he didn’t take any shit from Xander. Her manager’s charm that always got her to agree to his plans even when they conflicted with hers didn’t work on Quinn.

It was for those reasons, and the fact that watching Quinn put Xander in his place might be fun, that she handed over the cell. “He wants to speak to you.”

One dark sexy brow cocked up as Quinn took the cell and said, “Yes?”

She quickly realized how frustrating it was to only hear one side of a conversation.

Xander must have been doing all of the talking because Quinn wasn’t saying anything and his expression gave away nothing.

All he did was grunt once and then say, “Okay,” followed by, “No,” before he lowered the phone and tapped to disconnect the call.

She snatched the cell back as she asked, “What did Xander say?”

“He explained what they’re offering.”

“What do you mean, offering?”

“Apparently they’re willing to give you the interview questions in advance and not bring up he who shall not be named. They’ll also like you to sing live on air. Oh, and they’d put us up in a suite in some Times Square hotel for the night.”

“And?”

“And what?” Quinn asked as he went back to his food.

“What did Xander ask that you said okay and then no?”

Drawing in a breath, he directed his focus away from the burger and back to her. “He asked if I’d relay all that information to you, to which I agreed, then he asked me to convince you to do it, which is when I said—”

“No,” she said, finishing his sentence.

He nodded. “Correct.”

“So you think I shouldn’t do it?” she asked pushing her plate farther away.

Her appetite for the salad was completely gone thanks to the stress of this decision. Not to mention the fact she’d never been all that enthused about that salad to begin with.

Quinn shook his head, chewing. “Never said that.”

“So you think I should do it?”

He cocked up one brow. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What doyouwant to do, Bailey?”

“Hide under a blanket and binge the Great British Baking Show for a day—or three.”

He nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I can’t say I’ve ever watched that show but I’m game to give it a try. I’m sure Josie will be right there with you too. When we’re finished eating, we’ll get in the car and be sofa-bound. You can be under that blanket in front of the television in three hours.”

The picture he painted sounded nice. So why did she feel so completely unsettled rather than relieved?

She knew why. She didn’t always do what was best for her.

“They really wouldn’t ask any questions I don’t want them to?” she asked.

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