A Different Kind of Forever - By Dee Ernst Page 0,89

face. She kissed his lips, and felt tears on his cheeks.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Did I?”

“No. Oh Michael, no.” She kissed him again, her lips against his mouth.

“The play was wonderful,” he whispered. “It was so great, they loved it. I am so proud of you. I was afraid I’d miss the curtain. I raced over from Kennedy. I almost didn’t make it.”

She pushed his head away, trying to see into his eyes. “You saw the play?” she asked. “You were here all along? Michael, why didn’t you find me? At intermission? I’ve been out there, all this time, talking to all those people, and you didn’t try to find me?”

He stepped away from her then, and she felt the cold air rush in against her bare skin.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here, Michael?”

She could see him in the pale light, not his face, but the shrug of his shoulders.

“You were busy,” he said quietly, and he turned away from her, out through the door.

She leaned back against the wall, stunned and frightened. He was leaving. She bent down and felt for her clothes, pulling them up, and she ran out after him. She felt her hair falling around her face, and she pulled out Rachel’s chopsticks, flinging away the hair pins as she ran down the hall. He was at the glass doors, going back outside into the courtyard, and she followed, fear crowding with sudden anger. How could he leave?

She pushed through the glass doors after him, running, and called his name sharply. He stopped and turned, and a breeze caught his coat and it billowed around him, and the light behind him threw his face into sharp relief. He looked dark and beautiful, a fallen archangel, and her heart leapt to her throat, but she was angry now, wounded and afraid, and she stopped within a foot of him, her body shivering in the sudden cold.

“What the hell was that?” she lashed out. “Is that what you flew all the way over here for? Couldn’t you find anybody to fuck while you were in England?”

“No,” he shot back, “but apparently you could.”

“What?” She was incredulous. “What did you say?”

She heard her name, and she glanced away from Michael to see Quinn, running toward her.

“Diane. Are you all right?” As he reached her, he took her by the shoulders, his hands gentle as they touched her face, pushing away her tousled hair. “You look a fright. Are you hurt? What happened?” He turned to Michael, angry, challenging. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

Michael pushed his hands into the pockets of his coat and squared his shoulders.

“I’m Michael.”

Quinn looked back at Diane, saw the flushed cheeks, the wildness in her eye, and he knew, in that moment, that he had lost her.

“Ah. Well.” He took a deep breath. “Diane, Levinson wants to know. Next summer? Will that be all right with you?”

Diane nodded.

“Fine. I’ll tell him. There are some people back there, though, you should say good-bye to.”

“I know, Quinn. I will. Just give me a minute, okay?”

“Yes.” He looked at her, shivering, her teeth beginning to chatter from the cold. “Look, take my jacket –“

“No, Quinn.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself. “I’m fine.”

He turned and walked quickly back into the building. Diane watched him go, and heard Michael’s voice, cold and calm.

“Well, isn’t he protective?”

She turned to him. His face had closed down, click, a blank page.

“The tabloids in London were full of you two. They ran an item about the great Quinn Harris at a theater on 13th Street. You took him to see Rachel, didn’t you? They didn’t know who you were. Then there was a dinner, for Derek Shore. They had a picture. They still didn’t know who you were. They said you were the woman Quinn Harris was kissing at two in the morning in the lobby of the Pierre Hotel. They said you were the reason he wasn’t spending his time in Manhattan, working on his play. I didn’t believe it. Angela told me all the rumors, but she said you denied everything. I believed you, of course. Even after you told me you couldn’t come to England, I believed you.”

She could see his eyes, dark and full of pain, and her mind became suddenly clear. The tears that had been threatening were gone.

“But I saw you.” His voice was tight, controlled. “At intermission. After the show. I watched you. He couldn’t keep his hands