Two Weeks in Geneva: Book Three Read Online Free

expected as much,” he said, still irritatingly calm-sounding.
    “Well…” she said.
    “I’d like to visit Ethan tomorrow.”
    For a sliver of a second, well, maybe two, she considered allowing the darkest part of herself free rein, actually considered using her son as a weapon by saying no.
    But she couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that, at least not if she wanted to keep whatever self-respect she had left. And she wasn’t too interested in tapping those reserves. Between the fiasco of Alexander finding out about Ethan and then the later fiasco of her finding out about his… Again she shivered at the thought. No, Quinn was feeling quite pathetic enough, thank you very much, and she was in no hurry to add that particular sin to the ever-growing list. Besides, she suspected this was more of a courtesy call. Her world, or what she’d thought was her world, had been ripped asunder, causing her to question almost everything she’d hoped for and believed. But at no point, ever, did she doubt that Alexander would do anything in his considerable power to see Ethan.
    “Of course,” she finally said, hoping she’d portrayed a casual, easy vibe, that he wouldn’t sense the turmoil that swirled inside her.
    “So tomorrow, then?” he asked, the slight hesitation in his voice the only hint of any apprehension she’d heard during the entire awkward conversation, which couldn’t have been going on for longer than a minute but felt excruciatingly longer.
    “Fine. Is there anything else?” she asked, uncaring how impatient she sounded. This needed to be over before she lost it.
    “No. Good-bye, Quinn,” he said and hung up.
    ••••
    Unsurprisingly, Alexander’s call had absolutely ruined her day, left her unsettled and unfocused, so around four, she called it quits. It seemed Alexander had a particular knack for ruining her day.
    And her life.
    It’s nothing less than you deserve , some cruel part of her brain whispered, and she couldn’t disagree.
    As she’d lain awake last night, she couldn’t help but wonder if this whole mess was a punishment, and a well-deserved one, for her own misdeeds.
    That thought reemerged as she pulled into her driveway, parked, and began to gather her belongings, going through the motions without much conscious thought.
    “Early today, Quinn.” She heard Joe’s voice loud and clear, even though he was on his porch.
    “Yeah. I’m a little tired,” she responded, listless, not turning to face him and hoping he’d take the hint. She was not up for conversation.
    “Busy day yesterday, huh? Lot of traffic. And I haven’t seen Whatshisface in a while.”
    “Hmm-mm,” she responded, still not facing him. Joe clearly had something to say, or even worse, wanted to ask what had happened, but she didn’t have to make it easy.
    “Quinn,” Joe said, the tenor of his voice practically forcing her to look at him.
    “Yes, Joe. What is it?” she asked, exasperation threading her words.
    “It’s happy hour somewhere. Come have a beer. You look like you could use it.”
    “Thanks, but no. Like I said, I’m tired and Ethan—”
    “Is with your mother, as you know, so you have time and no excuses. Come on, have a drink with a friend, Quinn. There’s time enough for brooding later.”
    He was right on that point, and there was no sense rushing into an empty house where between the quiet and the memories, she’d end up feeling worse than she already did.
    “You’ve won me over.” She gave him a smile that was probably more like a grimace, but still the best she could muster at the moment, and walked over to his porch.
    “Good call,” he said as she entered his house.
    His place had a mirror floor plan to hers, but it was much larger and Joe had splurged on upgrades like hardwood and marble. He’d also had the ceilings raised, which made sense, given his height.
    “Have a seat. I know you hate beer, but I do have wine if you’d like,” he said as he headed toward his