At Your Most Beautiful, Harper Bliss [books to get back into reading .TXT] 📗

Nor had she ever allowed herself to entertain the possibility of running into her like this. For all those reasons, the surprise was all the greater, and perhaps powerful, for it now. “You look really good, Maya. Being a grandmother suits you.”

“Thank you.” Maya took a step toward her. “How about a hug for your old neighbor? Or is that inappropriate too?”

Quinn could only shake her head.

Chapter 11

Maya could not believe she was about to throw her arms around Quinn Hathaway. How long had it been? So many years, Maya had lost count. Just like she had, over time, lost touch with Quinn’s parents, even though, up until quite recently, they had lived next door to her.

Maya pressed herself against Quinn’s body. There was no rush of familiarity—how could there be?—nor of nostalgia, but there was something. The memory of the night they’d spent together that one hot summer had always stayed with Maya much more prominently than she’d expected—or wanted. In a way, it was one of the reasons she’d moved to New York. Not because Quinn lived there, but because of what Quinn stood for in Maya’s mind. Maya wanted to experience once again the rush of freedom she’d felt during that night ten years ago.

Quinn was the first to let go—she was on a job. But so was Maya. She was a teacher at Acton Academy and that involved having her portrait taken. The first time she’d walked into the building, it had been impossible to ignore the art on the walls. Maya had instantly loved the quirky pictures of the other teachers for their playfulness and magical quality. She’d come to appreciate them even more once she’d gotten to know the teachers they depicted, making her wonder how the photographer could have captured so much of their subject’s personality. She couldn’t wait to see what Quinn would make of her.

“I still can’t believe this,” Quinn said, as they broke from their embrace. “You must tell me about Tommy and this grandchild of yours in much more detail.”

The mere mention of her grandson made Maya’s chest swell with pride, the way only a grandparent’s could. “I’ll show you a picture after we’re done.”

“Please tell me you’re free to go for a drink after this.” Quinn unzipped a large rectangular bag. “So we can have a long-overdue catch-up.”

Maya nodded and watched Quinn as she set up two large lamps and a green backdrop. She looked so different from when Maya had last seen her, yet also still very much the same. So much could change in ten years of a young person’s life. Tommy was only twenty-eight and he was married with a child now. Maya could only imagine the ways in which Quinn had changed from that brazen young woman asking for a swim—and so much more—into the person she was today.

“I love the dress,” Quinn said. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“I bet you say that to everyone whose picture you’re about to take.” From her years as a professional dancer, Maya was used to posing for judges and post-competition pictures alike. She hadn’t been nervous about this photo shoot in the slightest. In fact, she’d looked forward to it. It had been a while since she’d painted on her most professional smile—the one she’d already perfected in the mirror as a young girl dreaming of a career on the dance floor.

Quinn chuckled. “Only the ones who look as gorgeous as you.” Quinn winked at her and in that wink, Maya could see so much of the woman she had become. She was confident, born to take a city as ruthless as New York by storm. Earlier, she had seemed slightly thrown by being confronted with Maya, but she had regrouped. Perhaps Quinn found comfort in operating her equipment and setting up the shot. Either way, Maya enjoyed watching her work and seeing Quinn in her element.

“Let’s do some static shots first,” Quinn said. “If you could stand in front of the green screen, please.”

Maya did as instructed. She smiled for Quinn, which wasn’t a hardship at all, while trying to suppress the memories that were surfacing from the deepest recesses of her mind. Maya had seen all of Quinn that night. She’d seen her vulnerable side. As though it had happened mere days ago, Maya could still remember what she’d looked like the first time she came. A frisson ran up her spine. She turned up her smile, making sure it was reflected in her eyes.

Quinn’s face was obstructed by the camera—Quinn liked to take pictures in a way Maya hadn’t seen for years, with her eye glued to the viewfinder—so Maya focused on Quinn’s body. Her gaze was drawn to the dark lettering on the outside of her wrists. A white-hot jolt shuddered through her body as she remembered Quinn’s other tattoo—the one on her lower belly.

“Do you think you have some moves for me?” Quinn asked, pulling Maya from her reverie.

“Of course.” Maya was happy she managed to sound so self-assured, despite the memories of that night swirling around in her brain.

Quinn beamed her a full-wattage smile. “Remember when you last danced for me?”

Maya shook her head, although of course she remembered. Every second of the time she’d spent with Quinn had proved impossible to forget.

Quinn looked as though she didn’t believe Maya. “I don’t suppose you’re teaching these kids how to do the salsa?”

“Acton is more ballroom-oriented,” Maya said.

“Okay. Maybe you could stand in a waltz-like pose?” Quinn grinned at her. “Although I would have loved photographing you doing some Latin moves.”

Maya tightened her core, extended her neck, and leaned her torso back as though she was dancing a waltz.

“Beautiful,” Quinn said.

Maya didn’t know if she meant her or the pose.

They tried out a number of different positions, one of which included Maya dancing a solo quick-step, her feet light as a feather, like she was flying from one end of the room to the other.

“I think I have all I need.”