Page 37 of A Man for the Holidays

Still nothing.

I wander up the hall, then check all the bedrooms again, but there’s no sign of Quinn anywhere, and panic washes over me once more. As I make my way back toward the living room, I hear my phone ring in my pocket. I pull it out and answer the call as I bring the phone to my ear, not checking the caller ID display.

“Hello?”

“Spencer,” I hear Paige’s voice on the other end of the call.

“Oh, hi, thank God you’ve called, have you seen Quinn anywhere?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m calling you.”

“Huh?” I question.

“We got a tip off, someone by the name of John called me and told me that the police were on their way over and that I needed to hide Quinn. I had to go to work, so I dropped him at the Rockefeller Center. He’s there waiting for you.”

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“Just get your ass to the Rockefeller Center, Spencer. You’re wasting time.”

With that she disconnects the call. I make my way out the front door, heading toward my motorcycle and climb on, then as I secure the helmet on my head, I wander to myself,how the hell did John get Paige’s number?The thought goes unanswered, of course, because knowing I have very little time left with Quinn, I can’t afford to waste precious minutes thinking about something that’s not very important right now. I start the bike and maneuver out of my park and onto the street, heading toward Rockefeller Center.

When I get to the Rockefeller Center, I immediately look around for Quinn, but there’s no sign of him. I then head toward the traditional Christmas tree display and take a seat on one of the park benches. I pull my phone from my pocket then scroll to Paige’s number, and as I proceed to send her a text, I hear a familiar voice call my name from beside me. I turn to see a man dressed in a parka, and when he raises the hood, I see Quinn’s beautiful face, except he looks different.

“Quinn? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I love Christmas trees, and this is the biggest one in New York, so I got Paige to bring me here.”

His voice sounds groggy, almost like he’s struggling to speak.

“Quinn, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Spencer.”

He slides his arm out from beneath the sleeve of the parka and I notice how dark and hard his hand looks, almost like plastic. I position myself so that I’m now facing him, and when I look over his shoulder, I notice his suitcase and a backpack resting on the bench beside him.

“What’s going on, Quinn. Why do you have your stuff here?”

“I have something for you, Spencer. It’s right there, in my backpack. Would you mind getting it for me? In the first zipper.”

I lean over him and take his backpack, then rest it on my knees as I proceed to open the zipper. Inside the bag I find a gold helmet, I pull it out and place it down on my knees, then spin it around so that I’m looking at the front. In perfect emerald green engraved lettering are the words “Quinn and Spencer,” engraved in a beautiful, bold font. My hands tremble and my lips quiver as tears stream down my cheeks, then I look up at the man sitting beside me and stare deep into his eyes, one of them is the piercing chocolate brown color that I’ve fallen in love with, but the other one is a dull mirky brown.

“Quinn, this is beautiful.”

“Something to remember me by after I––”

“No. Stop it, this isn’t the end. Quinn, you’ve changed my life, you’ve made me realize what it’s like to fall in love and given me memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life… with you. So don’t you dare say goodbye.”

“I’m running out of memories, Spencer, and soon I’m just going to be another statue in a store, and I’ll have no recollection of you or the memories that we’ve made together.”

“No. I won’t let that happen, Quinn, I… I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you that.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I’m so… so sorry, but I can’t, it’s too late for us.”

“No, don’t you say that it’s never too late, there’s still hope, I know there is.”

He stares me deep in the eye and says nothing, then he leans forward and presses his mouth to mine and I feel his hard lips against mine. He then pulls back and places the hood over his head and gets to his feet. He grabs the suitcase, then with one final look at me, he starts walking away. I throw the helmet into the bag and toss the backpack over my shoulder, then call out to Quinn. He ignores me and continues walking, increasing the pace as I try and keep up with him.

“Quinn? Quinn?” I yell after him, trying to keep up.

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