Billie was back at the office early. Even earlier than usual so she could bypass the looks and glares she got yesterday. She got to her own office and called Rosaline.
"Yes, Ms. Dupree?"
"Good Morning, Rosaline. Could you do me a big favor and ask my father to meet me in my office when he gets in this morning?"
"Yes, Miss."
All night, Billie had been replaying the day's events. She realized her father now knowing that she wasn't playing a game, would never believe that she had such a sudden change of heart, but she had.
She couldn't, however, mention marriage to Quentin, but she could play up the fact of them now dating. She'd have to get better at making everyone believe she wanted this. Her one fear, however, was by playing pretend that she might convince herself. Thinking again of Quentin, like she had a million times between the moment he left her to now, she had to admit there was a part of her that definitely wanted him, but she knew she shouldn't mistake lust for love.
Billie got through her morning work and even the work she's been doing in secret on her side project before there was a knock on her door.
"Come in," she announced shutting down the files she had open.
"My secretary said you wanted to see me," her father asked. He looked awful.
"Dad, are you okay?" Billie got up and immediately came over to him.
"No, I'm not okay. You storm out of this office upset. You don't return any of my calls. If it wasn't for the fact that when I called Carlos he said you were at his house for Isabelle's birthday, I would have ended up calling the police to go looking for you."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I really didn't mean to worry you. I was just so... mad. I needed to blow off some steam and went to the gym. Carlos showed up with Quentin and we hashed out some things."
"You did?"
This information had seemed to perk her father up some.
"Yes. You're right. He's not a bad guy and I overreacted about that picture. It is a good thing that the board of directors is not fighting you on this arrangement."
"Really? Why the turnaround?" Mr. Dupree asked hardly believing his ears.
"Quentin," Billie said his name like it explained everything and in her own mind it had.
"Quentin?" Her father was looking for more of an explanation than that.
"Quentin, well... he's not what I thought he was. I was wrong about him and seeing him in this new light got me thinking, maybe I'm wrong about a few other things too."
"Such as?" Her father pressed.
Billie began pacing the office while her father sat on the love seat and watched her pace.
"Such as this merger. Maybe it is a good thing. Who knows it may just be the best thing to happen to us," Billie said, thinking of what might happen if she did own half of everything H-Tech owned. What she could do with the company should that happen.
"You're serious?" her father asked astonished.
"Yes, I'm serious," Billie told him.
"And I owe this change to Quentin you say?" her father asked requesting more clarification.
"Yes, he's made me look at things a little bit differently than before."
"Huh, I guess I owe him one then," Mr. Dupree said.
Billie laughed slightly. "I guess so."
There was another knock on the door.
"Come in?"
Billie's secretary came in with a vase full of flowers. "These just arrived for you, Ms. Dupree," the woman said placing them down on her desk.
"Was there a card?"
"Yes, Miss," the woman said handing it to her.
Billie opened up the small envelope and read, "Looking forward to dinner tonight and that R-rated kiss. – Quentin"
Billie laughed and shook her head. The bouquet was of 2-dozen dark purple Persian Buttercups. They were absolutely magnificent.
"Buttercups, they always remind me of your mother. Who sent them?" her father inquired.
"Quentin," Billie said, they reminded her of her mother too as they were her favorite flowers.
"What was that story mom used to tell?" Billie asked tucking the card into the blotter on her desk.
"Ah, you mean the legend of the Buttercups?"
"Yes," Billie said.
"According to ancient legend, a Libyan youth named Ranunculus was known for his beautiful singing voice and stunning attire of yellow and green silk. His voice had the power to entrance any who heard him sing. One day when singing to a group of wood nymphs, he became so enraptured by his own voice that he collapsed and died. To honor the fallen youth, Orpheus transformed him into the tiny buttercup that has been known as Ranunculus ever since."
Billie's eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I remember, now. That's why you have so many of them planted in the garden."
Mr. Dupree touched the soft petals and breathed in their scent. "That's right. I felt like it was a way to keep her around me."
"I miss her," Billie said. Her father rarely talked about her since her death. Billie would refrain from asking questions because she felt it only hurt him, but she loved getting these rare glimpses of her mother.
"I do too, sweetheart. I do too." Mr. Dupree held his arms out to her and she gladly went to him. He hugged her tight for a brief second Billie felt she could pretend she was a child again and all was well with the world.
He let her go though, and the daydream ended. "So, you and Quentin?"
"He's taking me out to dinner tonight," Billie informed him.
"Do you have feelings for him?" her father questioned.
"I don't know, Dad. I just enjoy his company. It's been a while since I could say that about someone."
Mr. Dupree knew she was referring to her ex-boyfriend. He could not stand that man. How he had ever managed to wheedle his way into Billie's heart Mr. Dupree swore he'd never understand. And although Billie had her heart broken when he left Mr. Dupree celebrated because he knew Billie would never be free of him otherwise. She was in love and therefore blind to what a horrible choice she had made.
He wasn't exactly sure Quentin was a better choice. If Mr. Dupree went by what the press said about Quentin, he should be horrified that his daughter was now dating the man but Mr. Dupree liked to make up his own mind about people and therefore the jury was still out.
"You wanted to talk to me?" He reminded his daughter and therefore changed the subject, steering it away from Quentin Harrison for which Billie was grateful.
"Yes, I wanted to apologize for yesterday, for my behavior. For making you so worried about me. I promise I won't do it again."
"You were blind-sided by that picture, that article. I understand," he said kissing her cheek. "Water under the bridge as they say."
Billie smiled. She hated being at odds with him. "Thank you."
"Any time sweetheart. Now I must get back to work," And with those parting words, Mr. Dupree left her.
Billie sat back down at her desk and smiled again looking at the flowers. It would seem Quentin was paying attention when he was getting his intel from Isabelle. She laughed to herself and got back to work.
The day progressed with ease. Before Billie realized it was time to head home and get ready for her date with Quentin. She took three of the Buttercups home with her. Two she put in a bud vase by her bed so they could greet her in the morning the third she tucked into the back of her side braid updo. She wore a purple satin dress to match and was quite pleased with the overall results.
Right on time, Quentin arrived at her door.
"Wow!" he exclaimed as she opened it to greet him. Billie colored knowing he didn't have a chance to practice his response.
"And I finally get her to blush," Quentin said running his thumb over her heated cheek.
Billie couldn't believe she actually felt shy when she looked at him. Quentin was dressed all in black. She noticed he favored slim-fit shirts as they hugged his chest and shoulders, and fit close to his waist showing off some of his best features. His pants were straight-legged and his shoes were pointed. He had a very European look about him. His shirt had gold cufflinks and his hair was brushed off his forehead. It looked so perfect for one insane moment Billie felt the impulse to run her fingers through it to mess it up a bit.
"May I come in?" Quentin asked bringing Billie's attention to the fact that he was just standing there as she openly admired him.
"Uh, yes. Definitely," Billie stepped aside to allow him to enter.
"Thank you, you look... amazing," Quentin told her when she turned to shut the door he noticed the flower in her hair and smiled.
"I see you got my bouquet."
Billie's hand drifted up to touch the flower in her hair. "Yes, thank you. They're beautiful."
"So my co-conspirator was right?" Quentin said laughing.
"She was. They are my favorite flower, and purple is my favorite color."
"So she's two for two so far?" Quentin said eyeing her with mischief.
"So far?" Billie's eyes widen as she caught his meaning.
"Tell me you did not coerce that poor little girl into telling you more of my secrets?" Billie asked astonished.
"Of course I didn't," Quentin grinned, and when Billie appeared relieved he added, "She volunteered the information."
"Oh my God, Quentin! Seriously?!" she accused.
"Not my fault," he said holding his hands up in surrender. "Isabelle just really wants a baby to play with, that is not her brother or sister by the way. I asked about that. It's got to be our baby."
Billie turned even redder as Quentin casually threw around the idea of them having a child together like it was the same as adopting a puppy or something.
"We should probably go?" Billie said to divert the conversation in a different direction.
"As my lady, wishes," Quentin said holding out his arm to her. Billie quickly grabbed her purse, wrap, and headed out the door with him.
Balthazar's was bustling but thankfully Quentin had made a reservation so they had no wait. The server had come to get their selection of wine. Quentin left the choice up to Billie as she knew this place much better than him.
She made her selection and the server went to retrieve her choice.
"So why do you like this place so much?" Quentin asked.
"My father had taken me here since I was a little girl. He always wanted to take my Mother and me to Paris. His family is from France, but he was always so busy with work he never got the chance. This was a little taste of home for him. So it became our special place. I can't really come here without thinking of them both."
Billie's wistful smile was both sad and sweet. Quentin almost regretted bringing it up, but suddenly he felt compelled to ask. "Your mother? What was she like?"
Billie's smile brightened. "She was smart, beautiful, talented in so many ways artistically, but what I remember the most about her is how much she loved being my mom. I guess because she struggled for so long to have a child and then almost lost me. She just poured herself into the role and was everything you could ever ask a parent to be."
"I'd say I understand but I really don't. I think it's wonderful that you had that experience with your mother but it's no secret my family background is a bit...dysfunctional to say the least."
"You know so were her parents, but she said she learned how not to be by watching them. She was determined not to make the same mistakes. I can only hold on to hope that I am at the very least a fraction of how she was with me."
"I watched you with Isabelle, yesterday. I have no doubt you'd make some child an excellent mother."
Billie swallowed hard. Her chest constricted. Why did he keep doing this? Why did he keep telling her what so desperately wanted to hear, when it was all for naught?
"You okay? I didn't say anything to upset you did I?" Quentin asked concerned and Billie realized her thoughts must have played across her features.
"No. Not at all."
The server came back with their wine and took their order and soon departed again.
Billie and Quentin talked for over an hour about all sorts of things, superficial things, deep things, philosophies or just whatever sprung to mind. The food came and was thoroughly enjoyed and the wine flowed freely. When it came to dessert they both opted for the Crème Brûlée.
The waiter had brought the check and Quentin grabbed it before Billie could. "This is a date remember, and I'm not about to let my date, pay for dinner," he told her.
"All right," Billie conceded. "I need to use the restroom and then I guess we'll get going?"
Quentin just nodded, noticing she did not give him an end destination for the night. He saw it as a good sign she wasn't bored with him.
Billie used the restroom and took a moment to touch up her makeup, especially her lipstick that had worn off after eating dinner. She stared a moment at her reflection. She was flushed from the wine, her eyes were bright. She looked... happy. It was quite some time since she recognized that look. It's been a while since she expressed it.
"You're that girl? The one that was in the paper kissing Quentin," the woman who came to wash her hands beside Billie said looking over at her, she shut off the water and grabbed a paper towel to dry her hands.
"Yes, that was me." Billie thought there was no reason to deny it.
"I hope you have better luck than we did with him," the woman said reapplying her own lipstick.
"We?"
Just then another woman stepped out of the stall and came to wash her hands on the other side of Billie. "Jan, it's that girl," the first woman said to the other that joined them.
The woman's eyes went wide. "Well, wonders never cease. Imagine meeting you here. A word to the wise, sweetheart, keep your panties on around Quentin. There's only one thing that man is after and once he has it he's through. We should know," the woman known as Jan said.
"Come on, sis. I doubt she really wants our advice, but don't say we didn't warn you?" the first woman said holding the door open for her sister to step through.
Sister? More than a sister. Twins. They walked out and shut the door. "Oh my God!" Billie said to no one, as she was now alone. "Oh my GOD!" she leaned against the sink thinking of Quentin sleeping with not one but both of them. Did he sleep with them together? She stopped that line of thinking the moment it popped into her head not wanting to imagine, not wanting those images to run through her mind.
She leaned her hands on the sides of the sink trying to steel herself against what the twins hinted at, their words of advice. A waitress walked in.
"You okay, Honey?" the waitress asked, "You look positively ill."
Billie looked up and saw the look of happiness had disappeared replaced once again with disappointment. That's the Billie I know so well, she thought caustically. She thanked the woman for her concern and assured her she was fine.
Billie walked towards the table and saw the two women standing there chatting with Quentin. He kept glancing back towards the bathroom as they spoke but Billie had taken a different route back to the table. He obviously hadn't realized she had left.
Jan gave him a kiss on the cheek before the two sauntered away. Billie slowly approached the table.
"There you are? I was starting to get worried," Quentin said standing to pull out her chair.
"Can we? Can we get going?" Billie asked.
"Yeah, sure," Quentin said and helped Billie with her wrap and handed her, her purse.
"You sure you're okay?" Quentin asked when he offered her his arm and she didn't take it.
"I'm fine. I'd just like to go home, please."
"Alright," Quentin said and followed her out into the street and to the parking garage so they could retrieve his car.
Billie was completely silent the entire ride back home. Quentin kept stealing side-glances at her but he had no idea what caused the sudden change. They reached her apartment and she turned to get out of the car before she even bothered to say goodbye.
Quentin grabbed her arm before she could escape.
"Did I somehow offend you? Why the cold shoulder?" he demanded to know.
"I've been trying so hard to figure out why are you helping me. Why would you do all of this, for me? Is it to get revenge for your ex-fiancé? Or perhaps it's the thrill of the conquest? Are you toying with me? Telling me what I want to hear until you get me into bed and then what?"
"What are you babbling on about?" Quentin asked thoroughly confused. "I'm trying to help you. You want to save your father's company and I want to make that happen for you."
"Why?" Billie asked, "You don't know me. You don't owe me anything. Why put yourself through this much trouble for a person who is essentially a stranger? What's in it for you?"
"I wouldn't exactly call us strangers," Quentin said shamelessly reminding her what she allowed him to do to her body the other day. Even now, just the thought of his kisses, his hands on her caused her body to betray her.
"I guess not. I guess I'm no more a stranger than Jan and her sister."
Quentin's features suddenly became shadowed by anger, "Jan? Her sister?" Then clarity dawned. "The bathroom. They got to you, didn't they? What did they say to you?"
"One wished me luck, while the other told me I should steer clear if I knew what was good for me."
"I see. Did they say anything else?"
"Did you sleep with them?"
"I've slept with a lot of people, Billie. Do you wish me to write you a list?"
"No, but I'd prefer not to be accosted by the woman you've bedded in a public restroom."
"I never slept with them," Quentin said.
Billie found this hard to believe. "Jan says otherwise."
"Then Jan is a liar. I was interested in her twin and Jan pretended to be her. We went on a date and she kept pressuring me to have sex with her. Her twin is not nearly so pushy, so when I discovered the truth I dropped them both," Quentin told her.
"Like you said it doesn't matter who you've slept with. The list is long and I guess I should just learn to accept your past may come back to haunt me. Goodnight, Quentin."
Billie reached for the door handle but Quentin locked the door preventing her from doing so.
"Quentin, open the door!" Billie demanded.
"No! Quentin said and drove away.