Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Chapter fourteen, page two

As we drove to Jane and Andrew’s party our conversation turned serious.  Thankfully it was a much safer topic than Mitch.  We discussed the possibilities of what Dean wanted from Quinn now that Dean had his money.  Although Quinn did not tell me much about his dealings with Dean, he mentioned they had a business contract involving his bakery property.  

After twenty minutes of conversation and twenty-four hours of chaotic mishaps, we could not add all the pieces together.  There was no clarity or explanation to latch on to.  There must still be a missing piece to our puzzle.  Perhaps Jane can provide it.

When we arrived at the apartment building, a whole new wave of anxious feelings filled me.  These were Quinn’s friends.  And who exactly am I?  How will he introduce my presence?

“Are you alright?”  He asked as he reached for my hand exiting the elevator.


Quinn saw right through my phony answer, I think.  

He pulled me to a stop in front of the door labelled 4B.  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead just as the door opened.
Jane answered the door dressed in a short cropped emerald dress.  Her smooth blonde hair cut in a tiny pixie cut was exactly how I saw her in my head.  She greeted Quinn with a wink, giving the impression she knew exactly what Quinn had been doing when she opened the door.

 “Jane, please meet Cathie … um-”  he paused. 

My greatest fear finally came to the surface.  He wants to know my last name.  We have managed to be practically inseparable for twenty-four hours without getting past first names.  Not that one day is a long time but considering everything that had transpired between us it did seem odd.

Thankfully Jane did not seem to mind or notice that we barely knew each other.  She just grabbed one wrist of Quinn’s and one of mine as she hauled us through the doorway.  She hollered over her shoulder of our arrival.  Many voices hollered back various French greetings.

“Une moment, Jane.”  Quinn arrested her forward movement.  “Can we talk to you first before we greet everyone else?”

She nodded looking curious.  “Do you want Andrew here, too?”

Quinn shook his head.  “I need your help to find a good lawyer I can trust with my affairs.”

His words thrust her back a step.  “Are you alright?  Is it Anna?”

“No, it is not Anna.  I have a … situation… that requires some legal advice.  The lawyer I had when I purchased the bakery has moved on in life.”

After a slow process Jane perked up.  “Well, lucky for you.  I not only know one.  I work for one.”

Quinn’s reacted in surprise.  “You found a new job?”

“Yes.  That is really the reason for our celebration tonight.  Come on in and I will tell you when I tell the others.”

Again Quinn stopped her.  “I’m not staying.  I just really need your help.”

Both Jane and I watched Quinn in shock but she was the first to find words.  “You’re not staying?”

Quinn shook his head.  “I need a name.  And a phone number if you have it.”

Jane turned away from us and fumbled for her purse behind a heap of coats.  “I believe you already know him.  I work under the Lawyer, Marcel Decleaux.  He is the head of Dean Webber’s Conglomerate.”

Quinn straightened like a pin.  “What?  You work for Dean?”

Although I had never heard Dean’s last name before, her statement had already sent the bile from my stomach rising up my throat.

Once again Jane seemed oblivious to our reactions as she rambled on about how much she admired Dean.  He was a wonderful and compassionate man to work for so far.  It had only been a week, but already she loved her new job.  She casually told us as she copied a phone number from a business card in her purse onto a scrap piece of paper that Dean had been invited tonight as well. 

“He was supposed to be here tonight but called this afternoon to cancel due to a legal issue that came up and needed his immediate attention.”

Quinn smirked but I saw the restraint as his jaw tightened into a hard line.  If he felt anything like me, it took great effort not to shatter her dream.  Dean isn’t handling a ‘legal issue’ exactly.  It is more aptly referred to as ‘arrested’.

Quinn graciously took her phone number and stuffed it in his pocket.  “Are there any others?  Not one more upstanding lawyer you know of?”

She gave him a quizzical look.  “Well, I would have to think about it.  I guess it would be a conflict of interest, considering that you have business with him.  I only know that because I tidied your file yesterday.”  She grabbed Quinn’s wrist, acting embarrassed.

“You saw my file?”  Quinn frantically asked.

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