Page 60 of Quinn, By Design

“I’ve been back in town ten days.” Kelly Manners dropped back onto her chair. “We were waiting for you to call.”

“Although the clock was ticking down on that.” Clementine Gonzales believed in tough love. “One week more was our limit, and that was only because you like to brood your way to a solution.”

“Thank you for the feedback.” Lucy gave their usual reply when Clem had skewered one of them with her insight, and settled into the cosy-as-Ugg-boots-on-a-winter’s-night comfort of a girls’ night out.

“I’m sorry I missed the sale night.” Kelly held up her hands. “Arabella fell off a ladder I told her she should never have been climbing. I couldn’t leave her.”

“Is she okay now?” Lucy asked. Arabella Manners was family to Kelly; she’d provided a home for the sixteen-year-old runaway. At eighteen, Kelly had taken Arabella’s surname.

“She has titanium for a spine, she tells me.” Kelly sighed.

“I’d believe that.” Clementine snorted, filling a third flute with their favourite prosecco.

“She dodged a bullet.” Kelly shook her head. “Was backing away fast from a dirty big spider, so only fell three steps. On to concrete.”

“Only.” Lucy winced at the memory of her gran’s fall. Arabella Manners was younger and fitter than her gran had been, but accidents were called accidents for a reason. Niall had helped her see that.

“I called the shop the next day”—Kelly continued—“but you were out. Looks like it was a huge success.”

“It was,” Clementine added. “Jamie and I were early enough for me to pick up a stunning Maud Bowden art deco vase for his mother’s birthday.”

“You didn’t stay long.” Lucy didn’t mean to sound accusatory. “I wanted to introduce you to Niall—Niall Quinn.”

“The man who’s been locking you in a workshop on your one free day a week?” Clem was asking a question.

“He knew Grandpa. He talks about Grandpa. In some ways, he’s a bit like Grandpa.” That realisation surprised her. “I needed the link.”

“What ways?”

“He’s patient, a bit eccentric.” Lucy thought of his mismatched crockery, his insistence on changing seating positions all the time. “Generous, gifted, modest, protective.” She hadn’t realised she’d collected so many words to describe him.

“Wow! You left out the important one. Hot?” Kelly fanned her face.

“On a scale of one to ten,” Clem added.

“Eleven and rising.” Lucy grinned.

“Now you’re being mean—you know I’m not seeing anyone,” Kelly teased.

“That’s because you’re a workaholic,” Lucy pushed back.

“We’ve all been guilty of that.” Clem stopped smiling.

Someone turned up the background music, the only downside they’d discovered for this bistro. Cyndi Lauper’s girl-power anthem“Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” boomed through the speakers.

“Hey, they’re playing our song.” Kelly’s head swivelled toward the bar. The owner’s wife’s hand was still on the volume button. “Remember when we made that pact.”

“It was after you went to that horrible town with the creepy cop.” Lucy had returned to the care home at the same time, after the boy had tried to molest her at the foster home.

“We’re not talking about that tonight.” Kelly had been sixteen when she’d fled that particular disaster. “Besides, that’s ultimately how I met Arabella.”

“And Arabella is wonderful.”

“It was before Gran and Grandpa found me,” Lucy said. “And now they’re gone.”

“I was the lucky ring-in from the third bed in the room. And Arabella and your gran made sure we hooked up again.” Clementine stared into her drink. “No children. That was our pact. Because how would we know what to do, how would we be able to mother a child? A lot’s happened since then.”

“You mean you’ve met a wonderful man.” Lucy toasted Clem but remembered her own hesitance about entering Kate’s nursery.

---