Chapter <b>298 </b>Frayed <b>Edges </b>
Chapter 293 Frayed Edges
Laura shook her head. “From the way Julius looked yesterday, he certainly didn’t seem <b>ready </b><b>to </b><b>break </b><b>up </b>with you. When I mentioned setting you up with someone else, the re he gave me could <b>have </b><b>slit </b><b>my </b>throat.”
“Give him a little while; he’lle around. And please, stop trying to line me up with someone <b>new</b>–<b>I </b>have neither the time nor the inclination,” said Quinn.
Laura muttered that she probably would not need to meddle anyway; if anyone was celebrating the breakup between Quinn and Julius, it could only be Han.
In fact, the night Quinn walked out, Han had already cornered Laura and warned her–no more <b>blind </b>dates for Quinn, full stop.
“But can you really set this rtionship down and walk away?”
“Of course I can. I once scraped every feeling I had for Trent Grafton out of my chest. Compared with that, letting go of Julius will be easy, too.”
“Trent was a cheating low–life–ditching him doesn’t count. Julius is different; the man adores you. When you almost skipped his birthdayst night, I swear I saw him crack right in front of me<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Pausing, Laura asked after some hesitation, “Are you absolutely sure there’s no chance for <b>the </b>two of you to find your way back?”
“Tell me, Laura–how do you mend something once the trust has copsed?” Besides, Rowan still stood between her and Julius like a silent, immovable wall.
Laura’s eyes widened; atst she understood–Julius must have crossed a line fatal enough to shatter Quinn’s faith.
“All right, my drama can wait. Tell me–what’s brewing between you and Weston Windore?”
Laura shifted in her seat, a flicker of guilt shing across her eyes. “Nothing at all.”
“Nothing? Then why did he follow Han to the barst night?”
“He’s trying to feed me the same old line–pick up where we left off. But you know my temperament; we’ve been apart too many years for a rey.”
After Han ducked out of the bar, Laura’s frugal instinct kicked in. The cocktails they had ordered were expensive; letting them sit felt sinful, so she and Weston drank them–just the two of them.
No one could have predicted that she would open her eyes this morning to find herself lying beside Weston in the same bed.
The very memory still felt like a thunderbolt cracking straight through her skull.
<i>Alcohol </i><i>is </i><i>the </i><i>enemy</i><i>–</i><i>never </i><i>again</i>, <i>Laura</i><i>, </i><i>never </i><i>again</i>.
When Weston left that morning, his expression had been anything but pleasant.
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<b>Chapter </b><b>293 </b><b>Frayed </b><b>Edges </b>
At least <b>their </b>clothes remained more or less intact<b>, </b>so she prayed nothing truly irreversible had urred.
In short, she swore–twice over—that she would never share a bottle with Weston Windore again.
“Laura, why is your face ming red?” Quinn’s voice echoed by her car.
Startled, Laura jerked back to reality. “N–no reason at all!“.
She told herself that, whatever had happened, it was better left in oblivion.
Quinn’s phone vibrated; Han’s name zed across the screen.
“Quinnic, are you free tonight? We barely exchanged two words yesterday before you left. How about <b>a </b>simple dinner together?”
“Sure.” She had a legal matter in mind anyway and could use his help.
“Great. Any restaurant you’re craving?”
“Anywhere works, as long as it isn’t too far.”
“I’ll text you the address in a bit.”
The moment Quinn ended the call, her phone chimed again. Han had texted her the restaurant’s pin- an intimate bistro only a few blocks from Laura’s firm, close enough that the eveningmute would be painless.
Twilight settled over Jexburgh by the time she eased her car to the curb.
Han waited at a candlelit corner table he had already reserved.
He looked up the instant she sat. “Julius didn’t do anything to you, did he?”
Quinn breathed out a lightugh. “Not even close. And you’re repeating Laura–she asked me the very same question first thing this morning.”
A hesitant beat passed before he asked, “So… you and Julius–are you really over?”
“Over,” she replied.
Relief washed through him; the rigid line of his shoulders loosened as though a knot had finally been untied. He had never expected her breakup toe this fast.
<i>Does </i><i>that </i><i>mean </i><i>I </i><i>might </i><i>finally </i><i>have </i><i>a </i><i>chance</i><i>? </i>
“When the old leaves, the new arrives. Your next boyfriend will be better, Quinn–someone whill never disappoint you.” His gaze lingered on her while she studied the menu.
Still focused on the list of entrées, she missed the intensity of his stare. A wry curve touched her mouth. “My luck in love has been lousy–first Trent, now Julius. I’m shelving romance for a while and putting all my energy into finding Rowan.”
Han’s brows lifted. “Any leads?”
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Chapter <b>293 </b><b>Frayed </b>Edges
<b>“</b><b>One</b><b>,</b><b>” </b>she said, meeting his eyes atst. “Enough to send me to Doria.”
“Mr. Whitethorn, are you all right? This way, please!” a staff member’s voice called out across <b>the </b><b>dining </b>
room.
Quinn went rigid. <i>Mr. </i><i>Whitethorn</i><i>? </i>
In Jexburgh, only one man answered to that title.
She lifted her head. Not far away stood a tall, unmistakable figure–Julius Whitethorn himself, those <b>sharp</b><b>, </b>phoenix–like eyes fixed on her with a gravity that pinned her to her seat.
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