Just Desserts (17 page)

She slipped on her flip-flops and went to water her succulent in the window.

“Morning,” Ellen chimed. “Why aren’t you with your honey? I thought you two were at the Cubs game last night. Didn’t you stay over at his place?”

“No. I came home early. It was a bad night. Quinn, his brother, and their affluent friends rubbed me the wrong way. Not sure if I’ll be hearing from him anytime soon after I dissed him for being a Wrigley. Guess I was exhausted and desperate to wake up in my own bed.”

“Next time, invite me,” Ellen said. “I could use some time with the breathing type of specimens, especially affluent males. Even though my study group is technically made up of human beings, we’re all female with our noses glued in archeology books. Boring. Knuckle-dragging men are entertaining. I’m looking forward to tonight at the Field Museum.”

“What’s going on? Are you working?” Sadie emptied the last of the water from the watering can into her freakishly large plant and headed back into the kitchen for a refill.

“There’s a pre-opening gala for the
Streets of Chicago
exhibit. A private party for the donors. I’m giving tours to guests of the Mummy exhibit and helping the catering staff.” Ellen followed her in and went to the refrigerator.

“I can’t wait to see that exhibit when it opens to the rest of Chicago next week,” Sadie said. “My advisor included it on my new agenda as required research.”

Ellen took a spoonful of Greek yogurt. “Want to make some extra cash tonight?”

Sadie filled the watering can and turned off the faucet. “Always need some spending money. What’s up?”

“The caterer is short-handed. She’s looking for some waitresses.” Ellen offered her the container of yogurt. “Want this? It doesn’t taste right.”

“Not into the paste-like creaminess of Greek yogurt? Sure.” Sadie set the can aside, pulled out a clean spoon from the drawer, and grabbed the container from Ellen. “What time are you going over to the museum?”

“I don’t have to be there until six-ish. But if you want to go wait on tables, you have to be there when they’re setting up, by four. The caterer is paying sixteen bucks an hour. They need people so anytime you get there, I’m pretty sure they can use your expertise.” Ellen stuck her head under the faucet and rinsed out her mouth.

“My mother would be proud. I’ll never lose the foodie side of me. Once a waitress, always a waitress.”

“Sadie, you’re a graduate of the architectural history program at the U of C, and will obtain a Master’s degree after writing your thesis on historical preservation from the Art Institute. Don’t let last night get to you.” Ellen grabbed a dishcloth and wiped off her mouth. “When is your next date with Mr. Wrigley?”

“Don’t know. I think he’s doing something with Jake and Emily. He mentioned something about a family meeting.”

“When he calls, make sure to thank him for me. For all the steamy hot showers this past week. What a saint. The guy’s a hunk and saved our butts from cold frozen cleanliness. Even out on my last dig, we managed to have hot water rigged up. You have to hold onto that man.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Sadie said. “Do I need to call the caterer? What’s the name?”

“It’s Shelly. Shelly’s Catering. She’s probably at the museum this morning.”

“I’ll bike to the museum now. Talk to her in person. And bring along my dress. It’s not supposed to rain. Just a lot of sticky humidity.”

“She’ll appreciate you. I’ll call and tell her you’re coming. Between Mummy tours, I might help her out and clear tables.”

“This day is looking up.” Sadie stepped out of the kitchen and went to take a shower.

“Don’t forget to thank your man for me,” Ellen shouted.

“Okay.” Sadie grabbed her last clean tank, only clean underwear and cargo shorts out of her dresser. “You might have to thank
my man
yourself. I need to get to the Laundromat.”

“Ha. Do you need to borrow some clothes?”

“No. I can wash up when I get to the museum and then slip on my dress. I’m sure it will look okay waitressing. I’ll pack along my black wrap skirt to fancy it up.”

“See you later,” Ellen said. “I’m heading to the library.”

After Ellen left, Sadie showered, dressed, and packed her backpack. On a whim, she threw in her favorite broach to fasten the wrap skirt around her waist—an aspidistra flower-shaped pin. A gift from her mother. The thin petals were studded with colorful semi-precious stones.

She checked her phone and there were no messages from Quinn. She tucked it in her messenger bag and took off.

The bike ride to the museum would clear her head. She pedaled east toward the lake. While stopped on the corner to let the traffic on Damen pass, she spotted a bit of silvery green water in the distance. The white caps of Lake Michigan, on the overcast day, boosted her spirits.

A breeze blew past and she inhaled deeply. She was rewarded with the buttery scent of toasted coconut. Sadie zeroed in on the source of the mouthwatering aroma. The cupcake shop was only half a block away. A pit stop for a cupcake, or two, might be the order of the day. She swung the bike around to head down Damen and clutched the hand brakes. In the shop window across the street she saw four big letters painted in gold.
BBRD.
Hanging below them a scalloped white banner read,
“A Premiere Wrigley Property--Quinn Laughton, Developer.”

***

Quinn threw his tux on the bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Only three hours of twenty-four.

The cold water pelted his back and he rehearsed the speech Jake had e-mailed to him earlier. His voice echoed in the granite-tiled room. He glanced over at the built-in sauna and tub and vowed to get Sadie in it with him by the end of the weekend.

Sadie.

Why had he invited her to the Wrigley Club in Wrigleyville for a game at Wrigley Field last night? He should have known better. Since he had to babysit Drew, again, after a week of endless meetings, he had to leave Sadie alone on the rooftop with a party of pretentious baseball executives and their wives.

If he had been watching the game with his beautiful girlfriend, that asshole wouldn’t have laid a hand on her. Though he’d found the guy and had thrown him out of the club, it was too late. Sadie was already gone.

Quinn lifted the lever until the water turned ice cold and hung his head under the freezing pellets.

He thought about ignoring his duty as family speaker at the museum, but Jake would never forgive him. He got out of the shower and dried off.

Tonight, he had to make it up to Sadie. Absolutely no fuck ups. She didn’t need any more officious
Wrigley
waved in front of her face, so after the damn gala at the museum was over, he would drop by and surprise her by taking her to Emily’s club to see the Foo Fighters.

Feeling prepared and fucking cold, he dressed quickly and then checked over the printed version of the commemorative address for the museum. Every benefactor of the Wrigley donation who had made the
Streets of Chicago
exhibit was listed. He rolled his eyes.

Quinn grabbed the ringing cell off his nightstand. “Sadie?”

“Oh no, love. Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s Kate. You sound way too serious.”

“I’m in a tux. I can’t sound anything but stern. The prospect of wearing a cummerbund for hours. You try it.” Quinn strode over and grabbed his tie from the mirrored valet.

“You haven’t suffered a smidge. I’m looking forward to a night of Spanx, a Wonderbra, and stilettos. At any moment this evening I could tip over and crack into pieces like a suit of armor. What’s your timeframe? I want to see you. How come Jake picked me up at O’Hare and not you?”

He held the brocade tie in front of his chest and tossed it on the bed. “Hectic day. Jake needed something to do. I have a lot to catch you up on.” He slipped on the patent leather shoes and frowned. “Thank you for being my date. But I think I can go it alone. I trust you’ll sign BBRD over to me sometime while you’re in the States before Suze and Jake have a baby.”

“It’s been six months since I’ve seen you. I wouldn’t miss you for the world. You need me to make you look good, buddy. And I want to see the
Streets
exhibit. Just because that grand family of yours sponsored it doesn’t mean you should shun it.”

“Yeah. I know. I have my speech memorized. I’m set to go. Do you have a ride there and back? I’m going at seven and leaving at ten sharp.” He pulled the bowtie off the valet stand.

“Will you be turning into a pumpkin? What’s the rush?”

“Long story. I’m taking the Porsche and need to get up to Wrigleyville. I’m picking up someone on the way.”

“Someone? Can’t wait to hear about it. I’m driving with Suze and Jake from the ‘burbs. Your sister-in-law may not make it through the dedication ceremony. Her petite ankles are puffy. Later, hon.”

“Thanks, Kate.” He slipped his phone into his pocket and checked his shave in the mirror. He’d get a new razor tomorrow. The bit of stubble would have to stay.

Before heading to the Field Museum, Quinn wanted to stop into the Wrigley Club to make certain the Foo were playing. His sister wouldn’t know for certain until later, but he could check the area and see if there was any gossip floating around the bars on Addison.

Quinn left his bowtie untied and headed out. In the Porsche, he slid a
FF
disc into the stereo. The Fighters’ song
Pretender
started playing and he turned up the volume as he sped north on Lake Shore Drive.
 

Chapter Nineteen

The spokes in her front wheel rattled and Sadie was covered in sweat by the time she reached the museum. She hopped off the Trek and wiped her brow with the bottom of her tank top, except the cotton was so damp it didn’t absorb much. She checked her watch: three o’clock. It was only an hour’s ride to the museum. She might have made it sooner if she hadn’t wound up stopping at Navy Pier.

After seeing
BBRD
, Quinn’s latest acquisition, she had forced her legs to pedal, but when she saw the Ferris wheel on the pier something inside snapped. She had to think clearly about Quinn. Tiring her body wasn’t making the tiny voice in her head, the one warning her, go away.

A handful of vendors had set up shop, so Sadie had browsed the artsy wares. She had found a beautiful vintage velvet scarf and a black T-shirt. The voice didn’t disappear entirely, but it quieted down.

Sadie walked her bike, on the sidewalk, around to the back of the Field Museum. There were trucks and three white vans parked near a delivery entrance. The vans were emblazoned with magenta lettering.
Shelly Catering
. She was in the right spot.

Sadie pulled the new scarf and an extra set of clothes from her bike pack and stuffed them into her messenger bag. She dragged the bike up the rear stairs and into the delivery entrance. Delivery men carrying stacks of chairs rushed past.

She stopped short and her bike pedal sliced into her ankle. “Ow. Shit.”

Limping out of the way, to the side of the garage-looking service entrance, she leaned her bike against the cinder block wall.

A set of steel double doors, she presumed, led into the museum. A staging area in the likes of a kitchen with plastic covered tables, convection ovens, and stainless heat racks was set up. There were four women with chef hats and one of them was shouting and waving at her.

It was Lindy.

“Sadie? I didn’t know you were working for Shelly.” Lindy gave her a hug.

“I’m really not. Just filling in. I guess there’s a shortage of waitresses. Some kind of flu bug. I want to see the
Streets of Chicago
exhibit early, since it’s not opening for the public until next week. What are you doing here?”

“This gala. It’s a biggie. Shelly called me to order batches of my fresh arugula for the salad. When she found out I had some baby beets, she added a beet salad to the menu.”

“This is great. To see you. I thought you would be coming to Chicago with Eddie.” Sadie grabbed the bike, wheeled it to a drainpipe, and locked it up. “Wasn’t he supposed to meet with Quinn sometime next week?”

Lindy handed her a couple of white dry dishtowels. “Yeah. Think so. Eddie hasn’t been able to talk to Quinn. They keep playing phone tag. Here.”

Sadie grabbed the towel and wiped the trickle of blood off her ankle.

Lindy pointed toward the gallery hall. “The guest tables are all set. The bar is still being arranged. If you take a left, once inside the actual museum, you’ll find the ladies’ room. You can freshen up.”

“Where is Shelly? I want to introduce myself.”

“She’s wigging out with the florists and the bartenders. You can’t miss her; she’s super tall and has a Morticia-style black gown on with long black hair and bright red lips. She’s a little scary-looking, but super nice. Before I forget, how is your
lover boy
?”

Sadie took a towel a draped it around the back of her neck. “Good.”

Lindy flicked one of the dishtowels at her. “The sexiest man on Earth? That you get to wake up with…is just good?”

“A lot on my mind since moving back, that’s all. And Quinn’s been…it’s just that…”

“Just what?” Lindy walked toward the doors leading to the main gallery. “That man of yours is such a rock. I don’t get how you can use the word
just
near his name.”

“He’s a rock. Steady and all around terrific guy. He’s a gem. A diamond. I’m not sure I belong in the same league.”

Lindy squawked. “Shut the fuck up. You are the best. Whatever’s bothering you, I bet Quinn would do anything to get rid of it. To make you happy. He’s a keeper.”

“He can’t, Lindy. It’s who he is—he’s a Wrigley.”

“Holy cow. No shit?”

“I wish I were kidding,” Sadie said.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Of all the women out there still looking for true love only to come up empty-handed, and you find a great guy who really cares about you? And you’re worried because he has a few dollars in the bank?”