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understand that very well, but Quinn just wants to know if you and Bill are coming to her show on Thursday.”

“If Quinn wants to know something, she should call us herself.” Brooke sounded clipped. “Or maybe she shouldn’t have snuck out of the house like a thief in the night. She just left without saying a word to us.”

“She was upset.”

“So were we.”

“I know, Brooke. But Quinn’s miserable. Bill hasn’t called her and she doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“Maybe she should have thought of that before she took up with you. Or maybe you could have thought about the consequences, Maya. Why didn’t you? That’s what I’d like to know. Do you really expect us to simply accept that you and Quinn are a couple now? The whole thing is simply preposterous.”

“I don’t expect you to accept it just like that at all.” Maya tried to keep calm, even though this was one of the most difficult conversations she’d ever had. And the question Brooke had just asked her was one she hadn’t entirely resolved for herself yet either. “I know it’s difficult to hear.” Maya could hardly tell Quinn’s mother that life was for living, not for judging your daughter with whom she’d fallen so madly in love. “It’s awkward and hard to understand.” It helped that Maya could genuinely empathize with Brooke on this. “It’s most certainly not what you want to hear, but… none of that makes it less true. We can’t change how we feel.”

“I beg to differ,” Brooke said drily. “Maybe Quinn is too pigheaded to even try, but you…” Brooke turned the accusation in her tone up a notch. “Why didn’t you stop it? You’re not even gay, Maya. Are you doing this to spite us for some reason? If so, why? What did Bill and I ever do to you except be good neighbors?”

It’s got nothing to do with you, Maya wanted to shout down the phone, but that wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I tried to stop it,” Maya said truthfully. “I really did, Brooke. I didn’t want this. Not at first. I felt exactly how you feel right now. Believe me, I tried so hard to stop it, but I couldn’t. Quinn is…” Maya stopped herself. She wasn’t about to explain to Brooke how amazing she thought her daughter to be. “I know I should have been the wiser one, but, in the end, we’re two adults choosing to be with each other, and there isn’t anything wrong with that.” A ripple of unexpected pride coursed through Maya for saying that out loud—for standing up for their love.

“And we just have to accept it?” Brooke scoffed.

“Quinn and I are happy together,” Maya said. She may as well play the happy card now—which mother could resist that?

“How long has this been going on?” Brooke asked.

“A while.”

“A while?” Brooke shouted. “Is it even serious yet?”

It’s very serious, Maya thought. She knew that in her bones, because of the ups and downs they’d gone through already. Because of her own doubts she’d had to conquer. But again, this was not something she should say to Brooke right now.

“If you could just be there for Quinn on Thursday. It would mean so much to her.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that. She’s my daughter, damn it.”

Maya heard a man’s muffled voice in the background. Brooke had probably covered her phone with her hand. Had Bill been listening along all this time?

“Maya.” There he was. “This is Bill.” As if it needed saying.

“Hi, Bill.”

“Tell Quinn that it goes without saying that her mother and I will be there for her. We will always be there for her.”

Before Maya had a chance to say anything, the line went dead. She didn’t know if she’d obtained a good result or not. But at least she knew they’d be coming to Quinn’s show. For now, that was all that mattered. They’d take the next hurdle when it presented itself.

Chapter 40

“Ready?” Imogen asked.

“As I’ll ever be.” Quinn watched Imogen unlock the front door, but this wasn’t a concert or exclusive club night and it wasn’t as if there was a line outside, eagerly waiting for admission to the premises. Only Griff walked in as soon as the door was opened.

“Aaaah!” Griff squealed. “I’m so excited for you, Quinn.”

“Thanks.” Quinn followed Imogen to the corner of the gallery where they’d set up a bar.

“Here you go.” Imogen handed them both a glass of champagne. “To a great opening and an amazing show of Quinn Hathaway originals.”

They clinked glasses, after which Imogen excused herself to go and take care of something.

“Are you not nervous?” Griff asked.

“Not with you by my side,” Quinn quipped.

Griff threw an arm around her. “I know it’s been a tough week.”

Quinn nodded. She’d been surprised by the emotional turmoil inside of her. Even as she stood here, at the cusp of one the most important evenings of her life, she felt like she could burst into tears at any given time. Or maybe that was just her nerves acting up. Because this was a big deal.

“When’s Maya arriving?” Griff asked.

“Depends on traffic.” Quinn looked at her watch. “She should be here any minute.” Maya had offered to cancel her Thursday afternoon classes so she could be there with Quinn for the last preparations, but Quinn had assured her that was not necessary. Now she felt sorry she had wanted to be so independent. She couldn’t wait for Maya to arrive. Her presence would calm her down, release some of the stubborn knot of tension in her stomach.

There was movement outside, but it was just a few people walking past. Nobody wanted to be the first to arrive. Quinn took a few more sips of champagne. She paused, then downed the entire glass. She was at the start of an evening of, hopefully, non-stop talk about herself and her work. Who knew when she’d get another chance for a drink? More movement outside. Quinn stiffened.

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