by Gina Azzi
12
Daisy
“Hey!” I pull open the door to my apartment Wednesday evening.
“Hey there, love.” Finn holds up the bag of Chinese takeout in his hand. “Hungry?”
“Starving. How’d you know?”
“A hunch.” He enters my apartment and places the bag on the kitchen counter.
Some of the nerves that buzz around my body whenever Finn is near accelerate in his presence. We had randomly decided via email at work today to hang out tonight. In the office, we’ve been keeping things super professional. In fact, I barely see him unless it’s through a conference room door or in the kitchen nook preparing a coffee. During our brief exchanges, a sly grin works its way across his lips as his eyes literally smolder. It’s best to avoid him at work if I have any chance of playing it professional.
But tonight, we are hanging in. And I am hoping, I mean really praying, that Netflix and Chill means the same thing in Scotland that it does in America.
“Beer or wine?” I ask, trailing him into the kitchen.
“I’ll take a beer.” He turns, his eyes catching on the notebook I left open on the kitchen island. “Working on your McKinnon strategy?”
“Yes. I feel so far behind, especially compared to Melanie.” I flip the notebook closed before walking to the refrigerator. “I have loads of notes and ideas but nothing cohesive. She’s already planning out her pitch.”
“Don’t compare yourself. Every first-year comes up with something valuable to add to the pitch. The competition is really an opportunity for senior management to assess everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, gain a better understanding of which future projects each person should be assigned to, whose skills complement each other for collaborating, things like that. It’s supposed to be fun, you know.”
“I know. I just really want to win.”
“You just really want to go zip lining.”
I pop the top off of a beer and pass it to him. “There’s also that.”
“So you like working at Anderson?”
“Very much.”
“And you like it here?”
“I do.” My eyes scan his body appreciatively. “A lot.”
“Eyes up here, Daisy girl.” He jokes as I force my gaze back to his face.
“Do you want to eat now or later?” I ask, opening the paper bag filled with pork lo mein, wanton soup, sweet and sour chicken, and egg rolls. Breathing in the scent of the food, I moan. “I haven’t had Chinese in ages.”
“Let’s eat now.” Finn suggests, sidling up beside me and unloading the bag while I grab plates and utensils.
We sit side by side at the kitchen island and the space between us is comfortable, natural, as if we’ve been doing this a long time. Who knew non-dating could feel so real?
“No way!” I gush, grinning over the rim of my wine glass as Finn nods enthusiastically beside me.
“It was bloody awful.” He adds, wrapping up a story about how he and some of his friends from the rugby team were nearly expelled in high school for switching the ballots in the yearbook’s Who’s Who.
“Yeah, well, I suppose it would be quite obvious when Most Likely to Succeed is suddenly Class Clown.”
Finn’s eyes crinkle with laughter. “You should have seen Judy Campbell’s face. She was mortified.”
I shake my head.
“What about you? Best prank?” he asks, his eyes curious.
“Uh-uh. I was a good girl.”
“I don’t believe you for a second.”
“I’m serious!” I swat his arm playfully. “I never got in trouble.”
“Ever?”
“Why is that so shocking?”
“I don’t know. You’re you.”
I laugh, incredulous. “And?”
“I just thought you would have been up to some pranks. I’ve seen you and Sierra together, you know?”
“She was the bad influence.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I really never did get in trouble. My brothers on the other hand…”
“Denver?”
“Definitely Denver. Then Carter. Then Jax. Between the three of them, there was always some type of chaos unfolding.”
“It must have been fun though, to grow up with so many siblings. Always having a full house.”
I pause, thinking about my childhood. “In a lot of ways it was. Always entertaining, I mean. But I missed not having a mom, you know?”
Finn’s expression turns serious, the mirth from moments ago fading. “Aye. I can’t imagine losing my mum at five-years-old.”
“I don’t remember her much. Just random snippets of memories that I’m not sure are real or fabricated.”
“What do you mean?”
“My brothers, well Carter really, tried to keep her alive for me by telling me loads of stories from when I was a baby. I think the repetition of them blended with the few moments I do remember. Now they’re like these hybrid memories except I’m not sure what’s real.”
Finn’s face softens and he leans closer, his fingers closing around my wrist as he squeezes gently. “Do you remember how you felt when you were with her?”
“I remember being happy when I was with her. And strangely, I remember the scent of her perfume. It was floral. I can’t describe it but if I smelled it now, I would know it. She loved to read, I know that for certain. We kept all of her books.” I pause, thinking about Finn’s question. “Yes, I remember how I felt with her.”
“That’s the most important part. You don’t need the memory to know that the feeling was genuine.”
His words wash over me, tender and sweet. I’ve always felt like I missed out on so much without having my mom. But I never second guessed her love for me. Not once. I offer Finn a shy smile and he squeezes my wrist once before dropping his hand.
“That’s true.” I concede. “I guess a parent’s love for their child is always unconditional. Well, unless you’re my father.” I joke but it falls flat as Finn’s face contorts, stricken.
“Finn?”
“You don’t get along with your dad?” he asks, diverting my attention away from him as he takes a swig of beer.
I shake my head. “He’s in prison.”
Finn winces. “I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, he’s not the best guy. Armed robbery. Assault. The list goes on.”
“Does it ever make you wonder why he had a family if he wasn’t going to be there for them?” Finn asks, curiously.
“All the time. When I have kids, I don’t want to miss a single moment.”
“You want kids?”
“Yeah. Why do you sound surprised?”
“Because you’re twenty-three. Most girls your age are too consumed with nights out and shopping sprees.”
“Uh, that’s a massive generalization. And assumption.” I point a finger at him. “You’re good at those.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just surprised.”
“I want a whole basketball team of kids. A full house. A big family. I want one of those huge harvest tables that’s rustic and has grooves in it and serves as an all-purpose table. You know, eating dinner and then painting seashells?” I grin at him and am caught off-guard by his somber expression.
“I want…” he trails off, shaking his head.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He forces a tight smile, but his eyes darken, bleak and unreadable. “Want to watch some Netflix?” he asks instead.
“Okay.” I agree, stacking our plates.
Turning my back to Finn, I mentally rewind our conversation and try to pinpoint what I said to cause him to react so strangely. Was it the topic of kids? Too soon for a guy I’m not dating?
That must be it. But I didn’t mean I wanted kids with him. I meant generally.
Sighing, I leave our dishes in the sink and force the conversation from my mind. Turning to see Finn lounging on the couch, I decide my energy can be better spent than rehashi
ng a conversation that already ended.
We’re one hour into A Star is Born when Finn shifts slightly, transferring his weight so that our knees bump together and his arm slides around my shoulder, tugging me into his side. “You tired?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“A little.” I admit. My new routine of building a life in Edinburgh coupled with the McKinnon competition makes for long days and short sleeping hours.
Finn falls quiet, his fingers brushing a path up and down my arm. I settle my head against his shoulder and watch the movie. The space between us, while still comfortable, hums with an awareness that wasn’t there previously and I tune into it, relishing every second Finn keeps his arm wrapped around me.
“I think it’d be nice to have kids too.” He says quietly, his voice a murmur, as if he’s confessing a secret. Maybe he is.
I tilt my head back, looking up at him but he keeps his face forward, his eyes glued to the television.
“I think you’d be an awesome dad.” I tell him, truthfully.
At this he gazes down, and his eyes are the warmest blue I’ve ever seen. Like Caribbean oceans mixed with a clear summer’s sky. They crinkle gently and without over thinking it, I shift in my seat and reach up, pressing a kiss to his neck, just under his jaw.
I hear his intake of breath, feel him stiffen for a beat, and then he’s turning, pulling me up and into his lap. His hands reach for me, glide up the column of my neck until they’re cupping my cheeks.
He holds my face steady, his eyes boring into mine. Emotions swirl in their depths, too many to grasp one, and then his mouth descends over mine, his lips hovering just millimeters away.
“Daisy.” My name is a plea wrapped in a promise. Finally, he kisses me. It’s sweet and reverent and travels through my body, filling me up in places I didn’t know were empty.
I part my lips immediately, allowing his tongue access to mine. His kiss is sweet, tender. For about three seconds. Then Finn moves, caging me in between his strong biceps, until I’m forced to lean backwards. His hands cradle my back until it hits the couch cushions and he hovers over me.
He smirks greedily before covering my mouth again.
This time, there’s an unspoken need in his kiss, a want that’s hot in its intensity. I meet him, kiss for kiss, nip for nip. He pulls my shirt up and over my head and I unbutton his quickly, sliding it off his shoulders until it hits the floor.
My breath catches in my throat at his bare torso, his naked chest. Taut muscles, hard planes, and strength emanates from Finn as he settles over me.
“You ready for this?” he breathes against my ear, his fingers playing with my hair, his mouth crawling down my neck.
“Yes.” I nearly beg.
My hands wrap around his biceps, my nails piercing half-moons into his skin as he works me over with a skill I’ve never experienced before. Drowning in his gaze, disoriented by the sensations his touch creates, I kiss him with abandon, with everything in my being.
Finn sets my body on fire, each touch of his fingertips smolders and every kiss he presses into my skin simmers. I can’t think straight as his hands explore my body, my brain short-circuiting on sensory overload. He knows exactly what he’s doing and I give myself up to the moment, to him.
Consumed by the heat trapped between our heaving chests, by the friction created from our roving lips, a blaze builds between us until we shatter into a million pieces.
Together.
13
Finn
The next two weeks are spectacular as Daisy and I naturally settle into our own routine. We’re professional and friendly at the office, to not arouse suspicion that we’re hooking up outside of it. Even though there isn’t a non-fraternization policy at Anderson, it seems best to keep our relations quiet since we’re not dating.
Each Friday, we gather at Uncle James and Aunt Jenni’s for dinner, a new tradition since Daisy’s arrival, and she’s always present. In many ways, she’s welcomed into the family fold so easily I can see her being a permanent fixture. It would make dating her so much easier; my family already adores her. But in other ways, having her build connections and strengthen relationships with my family outside of work makes things that much harder. Witnessing her playful side and the sweet, thoughtful gestures she makes toward Olivia, along with overhearing her meaningful conversations with Aunt Jenni, lures me closer. It’s exactly where I want to be and still, I worry about the future. About the fall out.
Pushing the negative thoughts out of my head, I allow myself the opportunity of being swept up and away by Daisy. Now that things between us are progressing, physically at least, I’ve been able to get my head back in the game and focus on work. However, I find myself looking up whenever she walks into a room, at the sound of her voice, or whenever I sense her presence. Which is quite often. I’ve never been so in tune to the whereabouts of another person before but I’m grateful it’s her.
She tortures me without knowing it. Tight pencil skirls that hug and flare in all the right places, patterned tights that intrigue me, even though they fit the definition of professional, and sky-high heels that cause her calves to wink when she walks. Her hair is either cascading down her back, begging for my fists to grip it, or wrapped up tightly in a bun that sits on top of her head and taunts me to pull out all the pins holding it neatly in place.
Her makeup is subtle, except for her lips, which always curve in a flash of vivid color that calls to me like a bloody homing beacon.
Daisy Kane is a seductress—in the most unassuming and innocent way possible.
Blowing out a deep breath as I watch her through the glass wall of my office, I force myself to focus on the document in front of me, staring until my eyes literally cross.
“Knock. Knock,” her friendly voice calls out, her head popping around my office door.
“Hey love.” I look up, unable to stop the smile crossing my face at the sight of her.
Her hair is down today, in gentle waves that curl below her shoulders. The way I like it. God, she’s beautiful.
“I brought you a special delivery.” She steps farther into the office, letting the door close behind her.
I pause, staring at her standing before my desk, imagining all the things we could do on its surface before clearing my throat. You work in a glass office, you idiot. “What’s that?” I finally manage to ask.
She pulls a brown paper bag from behind her back. “I’ve discovered a secret treasure from the gods.”
I snort, enjoying this playful side of her. Even though she’s focused and driven at work, when it’s just the two of us she’s sweet and flirty. “Carry on.”
“Only the greatest, most amazing doughnuts in the world.” She takes the seat across from my desk and plops down the bag, pulling out a doughnut and sliding it onto a napkin. Powdered sugar spills over, white flakes landing on my desk and a pile of folders, but Daisy doesn’t seem to notice, her focus singularly on the doughnut. “I’m serious. These are freaking amazing.”
“Thanks for bringing me one,” I say, touched that she thought of me. That she took the time to carry a doughnut all the way to work for me to try.
“Aaron told me these are your favorite.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. They’re mine, too. When I was a kid, Carter would get us doughnuts every Sunday for breakfast. His was always chocolate, mine powdered sugar. It’d make a huge mess, but he always laughed it off and told me we’d clean later.”
“And did you?”
“What?’
“Help him clean later?”
She smirks, a faraway expression crossing her face. She shakes her head. “No. Not that I remember. He must have done it on his own.” Her eyebrows wrinkle at a memory, and she drops her gaze for a moment.
“You holding up okay so far from home?”
“Yeah.” She looks up, giving me a wide smile. It’s too wide, too bright to be genuine.
“You sure? You seemed out of sorts at Aunt Jenni’s last F
riday.” I comment gently, not wanting to put her on the spot, but also wanting her to know she can talk to me. At work, Daisy is all business. When we go out, she’s all carefree fun. And at Aunt Jenni and Uncle James’s, she’s happy but also removed in a way I can’t place. It’s a disconnect from her normal personality and it makes me think she’s more homesick than she lets on.
She purses her lips and leans back in the chair. “It’s different when we’re at Jenni’s for dinner. All of the family being together reminds me of my brothers and our family dinners. I’m adjusting.”
“Is it getting any easier?” I press, placing my doughnut down on the napkin and watching her as she looks away, squirming in her chair.
She wrinkles her nose adorably. “I may be a teeny, tiny bit homesick.”
“That’s normal. You don’t have to hide it.”
“I don’t want anyone to think I’m having second thoughts. Or not grateful for the opportunity to work—”
I reach out a hand, silencing her. “You don’t have to keep acting like we just gave you this chance. You earned it, Daisy. You belong here. No one did you any favors. Moving so far from home, right when your best friend is getting married to your brother and having a baby, would make anyone homesick.”
She bites her lower lip, and my eyes zero in on the movement. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m trying to keep busy.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Am I helping at all?”
She snorts, the sound cute. “You’re helping a lot. Where are we going for dinner tonight?”
“A new place near The Meadows. I think you’ll like it. It’s tapas, Spanish-style.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear and leans forward. “I love tapas.”
“Good. You let me know whenever you’re ready to head out today. Reservations are for 7PM.”
She smiles then, her face pure sunshine once more. “Okay. Thanks Finn.” She stands from her chair.