Her Best Friend
“Amy nearly dropped the putty knife she was holding as she whirled to face Quinn the next morning.He gave her a quizzical look. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”Despite the bruise on his jaw, he looked delicious in worn jeans and a dark gray T-shirt. Her heart did its usual little kick-skip before resuming normal duties.“I’m good. Just not expecting you.”He checked his watch. “It’s right on eight.”“Sure. I meant I didn’t hear you. That’s all.” She gave him an overly bright smile. “How are you... feeling?”“Nothing that won’t heal.”The guilt and anxiety she’d been experiencing ever since she lobbed the muffin at Ulrich tightened around her chest. She should have called Quinn yesterday and told him what she’d done. But she hadn’t, and she’d been living in fear of someone else telling him ever since. Every time the phone had rung last night she’d flinched, anticipating a blistering lecture from him for her stupid, impulsive act. But he hadn’t called, because clearly he hadn’t heard yet, despite the fact that there had been several witnesses to her muffin assault and gossip was practically one of the five food groups in Daylesford.So tell him now.MoreLess
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