Head First (Quinn Brothers Book 1) Read online

  HEAD FIRST

  Book 1 in the Quinn Brothers series

  Samantha Black

  Copyright Samantha Black 2018

  Chapter One

  Alexis stood next to the corner of the bar, clutching a cocktail glass in one hand and fidgeting anxiously with her other hand, touching her updo with nervous fingers and glancing around every few seconds. The glitter from the strings of fairy lights sparkled above her head, draping across the columns and lighting up the rooftop bar in a warm glow. The sun had just set, and fingers of orange clouds still clung onto the horizon, making Manhattan look as though the city was basking in an orange glow.

  She paid little attention to the stunning view. Her gaze was focused on the well-dressed power couples who stood in small groups, chattering and laughing, champagne glasses held in heavily manicured fingers, and on the stage where the presentation was about to take place.

  Working in PR for a food import company that specialized in organic, paleo artisan goods, she was only too aware of the need to project the right image—and the image they were going for tonight was effortless sophistication.

  Her company imported foodstuffs from exotic locations around the world and sold them in boutique supermarket chains for a high mark-up across New York. She had originally been drawn to her role because of her love of baking, and the access to a heavily discounted array of specialized goods that it offered all its employees. She had stayed because of the exciting opportunities it offered her to move upwards in her career.

  They had just signed a deal with a major supermarket brand and were about to expand well outside of New York City, a huge success for the firm and for Alexis, who had been working on the promo campaigns for over a year.

  Her sleepless nights had paid off and this was the evening that her hard work, and the hard work of her colleagues, was going to be recognized and celebrated in front of the entire company and their new clients.

  She was conscious that everything, absolutely everything, had to go perfectly.

  A young waitress walked up to her and held out a platter on which an assortment of expensive delicacies was laid out.

  “No, thank you,” she said, waving the plate away. Her stomach growled in protest, but she ignored its pleas. Her dress was much too tight to be eating anything tonight. Even the champagne glass she held was more for show, to make herself look relaxed and carefree as though she really were celebrating and not analyzing every single guest and judging whether each one was having fun or not. And how embarrassing would it be if she ate anything and a piece of food got stuck in her teeth. No, she could eat when she got home tonight.

  Alexis took a tiny sip of her champagne. It had been flown in from a small but prestigious winery in the South of France, one with whom they had signed an exclusive import agreement. It had been another win for her company, and she had worked on that campaign, too. The champagne was now sold out, but she had taken care to secure one hundred bottles for tonight, to serve only the best to their new customers. She made a tiny face at the acidic taste. She hoped her customers liked it more than she did.

  Her best friend, Phoebe, appeared at her shoulder, wrapped in a short, form-fitting dark red dress that accentuated her curves. She gave Alexis a peck on the cheek. “You’ve done an amazing job here,” she said, her voice an excited squeal. “This bar is fantastic. I’ve just been talking to the photographer, and he took my photo with the CEO of that natural packaging place we were talking about.”

  Phoebe worked in the marketing department, and she and Alexis had struck up a close friendship early in their careers, bonding over their love of rosé and parties. They had been getting Sunday manicures together for years, and Phoebe was her biggest cheerleader.

  “The next issue of Cuisine magazine?”

  Phoebe grimaced. “I can only hope. You look fantastic, by the way. Where on earth is this dress from? And I love your handbag.”

  Alexis gave her friend a satisfied smile. “I hired it actually. Sadly, I can’t afford to buy it, but I am in love. It’s a vintage Dior.” She smoothed her hand down the gown. Floor-length black, in a silky material that hung just the right way on her slender frame, it made her feel glamorous. Never mind the fact that it was worth more than she made in a month, that she had to suck in her tummy non-stop, and that she was terrified of marking it in some way and having to pay for it. It was perfect for this occasion, and she liked things to be perfect. Her handbag, a tiny clutch with a long chain, was looped over her shoulder. The agonizing evenings she had spent shopping around for this outfit had been totally worth it.

  “Oh, wait until James sees you in it. He’ll want to pop the question right here and now.”

  Alexis laughed, secretly hoping that Phoebe was right. She had a good feeling. Maybe tonight would be the night. She looked the best she had ever looked, and she couldn’t wait for James to get here and see her. “Maybe.”

  She certainly hoped so. After all, they had been together for two years by now, and James was perfect for her. Tall and good-looking, he worked as an investment banker in the city, a job that provided a generous salary and plenty of room to move upwards. She did wish that he didn’t have to work away from home so much, but every time he came back to town, he would make up for his absence with expensive presents. Best of all, he would send bouquets of roses to her work, which she loved receiving in front of her colleagues, and he always took her out to the best restaurants.

  “Is he still acting a bit weird at the moment?” Phoebe asked.

  Alexis shrugged. “He has been, yeah, but I haven’t seen him much in the last couple of weeks because he’s been away on business trips. He’s only arriving back tonight.”

  Phoebe squeezed her arm reassuringly. “They say guys always go a bit funny right before they propose.”

  Alexis squeezed her arm back.

  “Maybe that’s what you can use your inheritance for. Imagine the wedding you could throw. It would be the best party Manhattan has seen this decade.”

  Alexis had received the letter a month ago. Her grandfather, Bert Rogers, a man who she had never met and who had lived his entire life on the other side of the world in a tiny country called New Zealand, had recently died. Her mother had hated him, and never talked about him, refusing to answer even direct questions about her family. In fact, Alexis had had no idea that her grandfather had still been alive. But when he died, he had, to Alexis’s surprise, left his entire sheep farm to her in his will. A sheep farm, of all things.

  What on earth this crazy relative had been thinking when he left this to her, she had no idea. It was probably worth next to nothing anyway, and from the little information she had gleaned from her mother’s comments over the years, it was not a place that held fond memories.

  Not that it mattered. She would sell the farm and put whatever little money came from it straight into the investment fund that James had recommended to her. It wasn’t going to be wasted, this inheritance.

  Alexis’s parents had struggled to pay for her college and Alexis wasn’t going to have the same difficulties. Her kids were going to have college funds. “I don’t think that’s what grandfather would have wanted me to spend it on.”

  Phoebe rolled her eyes. “How do you know? You never met the guy. He only left it to you as you’re the only family he had left.”

  It was a fair comment, but she still wasn’t going to waste her unexpected inheritance on a wedding. At least, not all of it.

  Just then she caught sight of James on the other side of the rooftop bar, and a troop of butterflies took up residence in her stomach. She grabbed Phoebe’s arm. “He’s here.”

  Phoebe didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll cat
ch you later,” she said as she swirled off towards a group of young men who were so ripped, buffed and groomed that they had to either be professional models or sports stars.

  She could see other women eye James as he walked towards her. She didn’t blame them. He looked good enough to eat in the tailored suit that emphasized the width of his shoulders, and she felt a rush of pride that he was hers.

  James gave her a nervous smile. Was that a bead of sweat on his forehead? Oh my God, this could be the night. She felt the butterflies in her stomach double, triple.

  She wouldn’t have chosen to be proposed to at a work function, but there were worse places. She couldn’t deny that this was a crowd she wouldn’t mind being proposed to in front of.

  He wrapped his arms around her in a brief hug. “You look good tonight.”

  He let go too quickly and she had to stop herself from pulling him back in. It had been two weeks since they had seen each other in person and she missed the warmth of his body. But of course, he wouldn’t be too hands-on in front of her colleagues; he was too sensible for that. He knew better than she did the importance of how you were seen by others. He had drilled this into her every time they went out together.

  “Can we go somewhere we can talk?” His eyes shifted around the room, scouting for a quiet corner or an exit; anywhere but her face.

  Alexis frowned, but led him to a darkened corner, out of sight of most of the crowd. A large potted plant shielded her from the watchful eyes of the Manhattan elite.

  “Is everything okay, James?”

  Of course it was.

  He was going to ask her.

  Alexis looked down at her nails, thinking she maybe should have gone for another color, something more classic, something that would suit a diamond ring in an engagement photo. She’d have to wait until she could redo her manicure before she could post any celebratory ring photos.

  She glanced at the potted plant. Maybe if she shifted slightly over when James got down on his knee, she would be in full view of the crowd. Then people would be able to see her break out in a big smile after she cried “Yes!” and James had swooped her up into his arms. The photographer might see, too. She was so focused on her fantasy that it took a second to realize James was speaking. And he was not doing it from one knee.

  “I think we need to go on a break. An extended break. A breakup, really.”

  She felt the butterflies in her stomach turn to lead and drop. The word “Yes” was almost out of her mouth, and she stuttered as her tongue tried to re-form the words that her mouth was spitting out.

  “Wh…what the actual fuck?” It came out louder than she’d intended, and she cringed, pulling back further behind the plant. She didn’t want anyone to see this.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry to do this to you, Alexis. I know how much you are in love with me, but I’m not ready to settle down. Being away has made me realize that I just need to focus on my career right now.”

  “But you’ve just been away for your work. I barely see you because of your work.” She felt hot tears welling up in her eyes and fought to keep them from spilling over.

  “I just can’t give you what you want right now. I just need a bit of time to focus on me. I haven’t been doing that enough this past year.” He had his arms crossed and he was leaning away from her, and his eyes darted around the room, at the ceiling then the floor, anywhere to avoid her searching gaze.

  “How much time?” She could feel one of the tears fight its way past her defenses and slip onto her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you. I need some time to myself for the next few years. Then maybe we will pick things back up again.”

  “You want me to wait years for you? On the off-chance we get back together then?” she asked incredulously.

  “Look, it’s not like I want you to be with anyone else. I just need some time before I am ready to commit.” He reached out his arm and touched her shoulder gently. “I’ll call you okay? To arrange to pick up my stuff.”

  Then he was gone.

  She slid to the ground, her heels treading all over the hem of gown, wrapped her arms around her knees and cried as silently as she could.

  She felt her mascara weep into her eyes. The stinging made her eyes water even more and the thought of the ruined makeup, over two hours of effort, only added fuel to her sobs. Her nose was watering and all her sniffing could barely keep it in check. Her thoughts were swirling through her mind and her breath was coming in fast, shallow gulps. He was leaving her. And this was going to be very public knowledge if anyone caught sight of her. She would have to stand up and face this crowd eventually—there was no way around that. She hoped the upcoming speeches would be enough to distract most people and allow her to sneak out of the venue without anyone important seeing her. Her pride couldn’t take another hit tonight.

  The noise in the bar suddenly increased, before a deep male voice started quieting the crowd. Glasses clinked and there were a few hearty cheers before her boss’s voice came through the microphone. She couldn’t see him from her hiding place behind the potted plant, but she knew he would be relishing the attention.

  He began talking and the crowd’s chattering died away. His short speech had been rehearsed at work and she already knew it by heart.

  This was her chance to pull a disappearing act.

  She wiped her eyes, hoping to catch at least some of the mascara that had dribbled down her cheeks, and poked her head around the plant. Her boss stood on the small stage, a glass of pinot in his hand and a spotlight on him, highlighting his tailored suit and slicked hair. Most of the crowd was facing him, a few still chattering and giggling between themselves.

  She gathered up her handbag from the ground and stood slowly, scrunching her face in disgust at the way her heels had ripped the hem of her dress.

  The exit to the bar was only about twenty feet from her.

  Her boss’s speech was wrapping up. “And I want to thank all of you for coming tonight, I hope you all enjoy yourselves, and now let’s enjoy the bar tab.”

  There was a general laugh among the audience. The desperation to get out of a public area while her heart was breaking suddenly overwhelmed Alexis, and she made a frantic dash for the door.

  She made it three steps before her ripped hem caught in her heel and she crashed to the ground, hitting the floor hard.

  There was a moment of absolute silence.

  Her boss coughed into the microphone. “Well uh—I should maybe rephrase that to—may you all enjoy yourselves but don’t enjoy the bar tab too much.”

  This time laughter erupted among the guests. Alexis turned her burning face to the crowd where a sea of faces stared back at her, smiling awkwardly or laughing with mirth. Every single person in the bar was staring at her.

  Wishing she was anywhere else but there, Alexis gathered her bag from the ground for the second time that night and stood up, waving away the one young waiter who had hurried over to help, and limped slowly to the door. She didn’t even bother to look back.

  Alexis sat hunched on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Next to her was a steadily growing pile of screwed-up tissues. Through the gap in the hastily drawn curtains a few rays of sunshine peeked, illuminating a stripe of light across the otherwise dark living room.

  There was an empty bottle of wine on the floor and a nearly full one on the coffee table, next to a half-empty packet of expensive hazelnut chocolates that she had been hiding at the bottom of her cupboard for months and trying to withstand the temptation to eat.

  Her resolve had disappeared the night she had come home with James’s words still ringing in her ear: “I just need some time for me.”

  But she had given him time, hadn’t she? She’d never complained when he went away for work. At least not that much. She wasn’t happy about it, of course, but she supported him. She knew how important his career was to him.

  She would sulk a little when he left but she took care to not make him
feel too guilty for it. After all, she loved him. He was the most handsome man she had ever dated. They looked so good together. He was a catch.

  She knew, and all her girlfriends knew, that a guy like James didn’t come around often. He had a promising career, with enough money to be comfortable but not so much that he was intimidating. He took care of her and made sure she had the best of everything. The bouquet of roses he had sent her on Valentine’s Day must have cost him over three hundred dollars. Why would he have spent so much if she didn’t mean anything to him?

  She couldn’t get her thoughts in order. They swirled backwards and forwards across her brain, spinning in circles that kept coming back to the first, underlying thought that she couldn’t get a handle on.

  Why?

  He had given her no reason, no explanation, apart from needing some time. What did that even mean?

  A knock on the door broke through her whirl of thoughts and Alexis dragged herself to her feet to answer it, then promptly sat straight back down as Phoebe walked through the door. The spare key Alexis had given her dangled from her oversized and diamante-encrusted Louis Vuitton logo keychain. Phoebe was so flashy, and Alexis loved her for having the courage to express herself just the way she wanted to—the courage that she herself lacked.

  Phoebe threw herself at Alexis and wrapped her in a tight hug. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe it.”

  Alexis took a deep breath in, trying to stem the flow of tears. But the breath didn’t help and before she could stop it, she was sobbing even harder than before, heavy heart-wrenching cries that made her shoulders heave and her stomach clench. “Oh Phoebs, I don’t know what I am going to do.”

  She clung to Phoebe as she sobbed, and Phoebe let her cry until her tears petered out and she could take some shaky breaths. “How did you know? I haven’t spoken to anyone.”

  “I came as soon as I could get away from work. I knew something had happened when you disappeared on Saturday night and then didn’t show today. I heard about the fall of course. Everyone thought you were just drunk, me included.” She looked at Alexis sheepishly. “And I hope you don’t mind but you weren’t answering my calls, so I asked James if something had happened. He told me that you two broke up.”