A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,71

thought it was wonderful. He was pleased to see that Sam was keeping the actors light and fresh. It was a positive discussion, and as they left the pub, Diane was grateful for his input.

Sam said good-night, and Quinn walked her to her car. His hands were in his pants pockets, shoulders hunched.

“Would you like to have dinner, say, tomorrow night?” he asked, as she knew he would. When she hesitated, he hurried on. “Or the night after, or lunch, if that would be better.”

“No, tomorrow would be fine. I’ve got a late class. I could meet you somewhere.”

“Alright. Wonderful. Name the place.”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’m in Manhattan, actually. I’ve got a flat up on West 82nd.”

“Oh.” She thought a minute. “Do you drive in?”

“Oh, good Lord, no. Train. Drops you right at the end of the lane here. Do you really think I’m idiot enough to try to drive through the Lincoln Tunnel?”

She smiled. “No, of course not. There’s a great place, about three blocks from here. O’Briens. Ask for directions at the station. Around six thirty?”

“Lovely.” He kissed her again, on her forehead. “Good night.”

She got home late, too late for any work. She did not go on her computer, although Michael e-mailed her almost every day. He sent her bits and pieces of his life, the weather, Prescott’s tantrum, Seth’s adventures. She returned in kind, the girls, the play, her students. They did not say they missed one another. They did not talk about seeing each other again.

She had thrown herself into work, reworking her current classes, fine-tuning the graduate class to begin that spring. Emily had basketball practice almost every night. Megan became involved in the high school play, and was at her own rehearsals every night. Diane was pulled in too many directions, and she knew she had spread herself too thinly, but it filled the hours that had once been filled with Michael. She missed him unbearably. There were nights that her body ached for him. There were countless things each day, small, funny, moments that she would file in the back of her head so she could tell him, until she remembered he was not around. Every time it happened, it hurt her cruelly. She kept waiting for the feeling to dull. So far, it had not.

She met Quinn the following night with no expectations. She was lonely, and he was going to be pleasant company. He was waiting for her in the bar, ordered her a vodka martini without her having to remind him what she drank, and placed his hand on her arm as they walked to their table. He was impeccably dressed in a suit and tie. He was drinking scotch, neat, and immediately asked about her daughters, remembering their names, ages, and even the fact that Rachel had wanted to be in the theater. Diane answered his questions, flattered, smiling. What a lovely man, she kept thinking.

“So tell me,” she finally said. “ ‘Present Laughter’ is coming this spring? This is so great, Quinn. I’d heard it got raves on the West End.”

“Well, we’re casting now. Derek Shore is coming over, reprising his role. He was just knighted, did you know? Thank God we signed his contract before that whole affair. Sir Derek would have come at quite a premium, apparently. We’ve found a few girls, all lovely, we’ll decide next week. We’re opening in February. It’s a limited run, so I’m not concerned about all that Tony Award madness that everyone seems to be so frantic about. We’ve got a young set designer, really brilliant. Should be quite a good time.”

“That all sounds wonderful, Quinn. Is your daughter here with you?” Diane asked. Quinn’s only child was in her twenties, and often traveled with him.

“No,” he said shortly. “She’s madly in love with a soap opera star and won’t leave London.”

“And you’ve divorced your wife?” she asked casually.

“Yes. It was a long time coming, actually.” He was tapping his finger on the arm of his chair. “I really wish I had done it sooner.”

Diane straightened her silverware. “I never thought you would do it. Get a divorce.”

Quinn studied her. “I told you I would. I told you I was in love with you.”

“Yes, I know you did, but after – I mean, I broke things off and then you went back to England and I didn’t hear from you again, and I thought – I just didn’t think you would. That’s all.”

“Yes. Well, the first piece of advice

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