Accident Prone 125 Quentin Visits Brianna 1

Sat.u.r.day

While Liz and Max are spending a busy afternoon in their suite on Hawaii, it's evening on the East Coast.

Quentin is in front of the door of a two-bedroom apartment on Manhattan, holding onto an extravagant bouquet of red roses. After some hesitation, he pressed the doorbell. Once, twice, trice…

What is he doing here? He is here to confront Brianna.

She left without saying a word or giving him a chance to explain himself and even though he does not have a magic wand to alter his past or what happened that evening when they returned to his apartment after their date, he is unable to walk away.

Quentin knows that he messed up because he was careless. He managed to get his fiery G.o.ddess on a date, despite his reputation, determined to show her that she is not just a hookup, and he was set on treating her like a Queen, his G.o.ddess. Because for him, she is special.

He was never so much into a girl to the point of an obsession, but he knows the symptoms and until he gets it out of his system, it will not stop. And the only way to get this lump out of his chest is to show to Brianna that he is serious about her, willing to change his ways and pursue her to the end of the world (if needed).

While on the topic of pursuing her, he knew that Liz and Mia will not tell him Brianna's address, and he respects that. Girls stick together. But he knows her name, her phone number and the websites she showed him and… he hired a private investigator.

And here he is. In front of her apartment. He knows that Mia is not here, because she is still with Hunter. So… on this fine Sat.u.r.day evening, Brianna should be by herself in the apartment. Or so he thought.

After fifth (or sixth) time he pressed the doorbell, the door opened.

Quentin narrowed his eyes at the tall and buff man in front of him who is wearing faded jeans and a white undershirt (a tank top) which is revealing his muscular arms. The man's messy hair completed the typical bad-boy look from movies shoot in 1980-ies.

Quentin wondered, did he get the wrong apartment?

"Flower delivery?", the man asked, obviously displeased.

"No. Is this where Brianna lives?", Quentin answered with a question, hoping that the man will point to the apartment next door.

The man turned to his side lazily, like he is checking something, and Quentin's heart dropped because man's behavior confirmed that he is at the right place, and Brianna is in another room… and this man is with Brianna.

A second later, the man turned to Quentin and scrutinized him. He narrowed his eyes at finely pressed suit and Quentin's neatly trimmed beard in balbo style, hair pushed to the right and of course, flowers. "Who is asking?"

"Mack, who told you to answer the door?", Brianna's angry voice came from the back.

The man turned to her. "He was persistent. And the name is Mark."

"Who was persistent?", Brianna asked.

"We didn't reach there yet, but he has flowers.", Mark said with a smirk which rubbed Quentin the wrong way.

"Flowers?" This time Brianna's voice was closer. She pushed Mark to the side. "Quentin? Why are you here?"

Quentin looked at Brianna who is wearing only a blush-pink bathrobe and has a towel wrapped around her hair. It's obvious that she just showered. With this Mark guy in the apartment. Quentin wondered if they slept together, but in the next moment he dismissed that thought. It does not matter. He is here for Brianna. And she is in front of him.

"I came to see you and talk. This is for you.", Quentin handed her the flowers, ignoring Mark's glare.

Brianna took the flowers after a second for hesitation. "Thanks. What do you want to talk about?"

"Why are you talking to him?", Mark frowned.

"Shut up, Mike!", Brianna snapped at Mark and turned to Quentin gesturing to him to answer her question.

"I wanted to talk about what happened in Seattle. You didn't give me a chance to explain and to apologize."

Brianna's eyebrows shoot up. "Explain, what?"

Quentin's brows furrowed slightly. He does not want to talk here, from the hallway. "Can I come in?"

Brianna hesitated.

"Bri, b.u.t.terfly…", Mike approached Brianna. "Are you really going to let this guy spoil our evening? Tell him to go away. Or I can make him…"

Brianna was irritated. Spoil the evening? How she sees it, it's already spoiled. And she does not like when others are pushing their opinion on her. Why is Mark acting like a boyfriend who has the right to make decisions for her? He is nothing more than a hookup. And not a very good one.

"Take your things and get out, Milo.", Bri told Mark.

Mark inhaled and held his breath for few seconds. Why can't Brianna get his name right? And she is telling him to leave? He narrowed his eyes at Brianna and spoke through his teeth. "Really? You are kicking me over him? Do you think that I will give you a second chance?"

Brianna rolled her eyes and grabbed the leather jacket from the chair on the side. She pressed the jacket on Mark's chest. "Max, are you going to get out on your own, or do we have a problem?"

Mark snorted. "The name is Mark!"

Brianna waved him to leave. "Whatever."

Mark shoot an angry glare at Quentin and stormed outside.

Quentin smirked and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He is in!

Brianna crossed her arms over her chest and faced Quentin. "Wipe off that smile from your face. I am only showing you courtesy. I am surprised to see you here, and I wonder what is the important topic that brought you all the way to my door. Also… how did you find out where I live?"

"Can I sit?"

Brianna gestured toward the sofa in the living room.

Quentin removed his suit jacket and sat on the edge of the sofa. Well, he is in. Just him and Brianna. He accomplished this and… now what? From where should he start talking and not make it worse?

Quentin watched Brianna as she removed the towel from her head, releasing her damp fiery hair to cascade over her shoulders. She is beautiful.

Brianna sat on the sofa chair and rubbed her hair with a towel for few seconds before telling Quentin: "I am listening. You can start anytime."

"I hired someone to find your address.", Quentin admitted.

Brianna paused. "You hired a man to follow me?"

Quentin shook his head. "Not follow. Based on your phone number, he tracked from where the payments are coming. He didn't leave his office."

As much as Bri does not like it, she is glad that he admitted it.

"Wasn't it easier to ask Mia or Liz?"

"I didn't want to put them in a spot where they need to pick sides, and I am confident that they would not tell me without your permission, so it would be just awkward for everyone."

"Why did you hire a guy to find me?"

"You are not answering my calls or texts.", Quentin said matter-of-factly.

"I blocked you."

Quentin was shocked that she just said it straight without trying to sugar-coat it. "I thought it might be something like that."

Brianna stopped rubbing her hair, kept the towel in her lap and looked at Quentin seriously before asking: "What do you want to talk about?"

Quentin understood that Brianna is done with a chit-chat and he needs to go to the point. "Bri… I am sorry."

"For?"

"For not thinking. The dress was picked by Kendra and I forgot to get rid of those stupid magazines."

Quentin thought that honesty will score him some points, but when he saw Brianna sneering, he realized that he was wrong.

"Note taken. If you picked the dress, it would probably be the one which was not worn by a model you screwed. And if you knew that I would look at those magazines, you would keep them out of sight, so that I am not reminded that while I'm standing in your apartment waiting for you to bring me a drink, I am surrounded with ghosts of all the models who spread their legs for you."

Quentin rubbed his chin vigorously. He does that he is not sure what to do. "It's not like that."

"And how is it? Should I be honored that you treated me well for one evening, and made me feel special, just so that I get a harsh slap of reality that you see me as a cheap model who would sleep with you in order to get another feature?" Brianna sighed dramatically. "Actually, I am worse than them. They at least get a feature, and me…?" She shook her head and spread her hands, indicating that she gets nothing.

"Brianna, please…", Quentin pleaded. "Can you not go that route?"

"What route?"

"You are using sarcasm to hide how hurt you are. Admit that you like me, and you want to be with me and make it work."

Brianna looked at Quentin in shock for some time before finding her voice: "Where did you get that?"

Quentin pressed his lips into a line. "Are you going to tell me that I am wrong?"

Brianna stifled a laugh. "Oh, Quentin. I told you already. You are worth no more than one evening of fun. I would never allow myself to get attached to a guy like you."

Quentin felt like a fleet admiral who is helplessly watching all the boats in front of him sinking.

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