Page 54 of His Forgotten Colton Fiancee

Chapter 11

The day after her release from the hospital, Quinn’s appointment with the therapist made her more frustrated than ever.

Her doctor had suggested therapy would help recover her memory. Quinn would do anything to trigger recollections of the past.

Maybe her expectations were too high, and her patience too low, but she found the session boring. Especially the part wherethe doctor suggested she envision her past by creating a vision board.

“I want you to mentally relax, think of pictures you like and paste them on this board.” Dr. Ross handed her a piece of twenty-by-thirty foam board. “Instead of creating a vision for what you wish for your future, this will help you to recover the past.”

Studying the board, she saw only the bits and pieces from a childhoodanyone would wish to forget. Oh, it wasn’t a terrible life. Her mother loved her, but with the revolving door of stepfathers drifting in and out, Quinn distrusted the idea of marriage.

Her mother had relied on men to help pay the bills and support her emotionally and financially. Seeing how frail and dependent she was on men only strengthened Quinn’s resolve for independence. Standards becamehigher, expectations, as well.

She was thirty years old, never married. Probably happy on her own. Successful. And then came West Brand.

What is it about West that I would agree to marriage? He must be quite special.Did we plan on a large wedding? Elopement?Her thoughts drifted to images of pink roses and white freesia bouquets, cute flower girls traipsing down a carpeted aisle, a tuxedo-cladWest Brand waiting at the altar for her.

And Rusty, the father who others said was the town lowlife, escorting her down the aisle? The vision shattered like a hammer on glass.

“Quinn? Are you remembering something?” Dr. Ross asked.

She blinked, loath to share personal information. “I do remember my mother hating to be alone. She got married a lot.”

And then their time was up. Quinnmade an appointment for the following week, walked into the lobby to see Austin, who’d offered to accompany her, talking quietly on the phone. He hung up and smiled upon seeing her.

“Ready?”

Quinn got into the elevator and eyed his phone. “Who were you talking to?”

“Oh, a client. He needs soy fettucine Alfredo and roasted-vegetable salad for fifteen by this afternoon. He’s hostinga small dinner for clients at his house.”

Good. Work would help more than cutting and pasting pictures from a magazine of someone else’s life.

Austin pointed at the board as they reached his car. “What’s that?”

Outside, she took the board and tossed it into the back of Austin’s little sedan. “It’s a waste of time.”

Her partner sighed. “Give it a chance, Quinn. You went througha lot and need rest.”

What I need is action, not vision.“What other orders do we have for catering?”

Austin drove out of the parking lot, his hands tight on the wheel. “A few. Nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

She put a hand on his arm. “Hey, this is a partnership. I’ll do my part. Tell me what you need and I’ll prepare the meals.”

“You couldn’t even remember who I am, and youcan recall how to make roasted vegetable salad?”

That hurt. Quinn fisted her hands. “Have you ever heard of a recipe book? I went through those books yesterday. I may have lost my memory, but I know I can cook, damn it.”

He gave her a sideways glance. “Wow, I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Get used to it. I’m going to turn the air blue if you dare push me out of my kitchen.”

A small smile touched his mouth. “Okay. When we get back, I’ll get started on the veggies, and you boil the noodles.”

That was more like it.

He stopped at a light and frowned. “You know, Quinn, maybe you should get out of town for a few days. Go someplace else.”