The Problem with Perfect

by Megan Mayfair

  He could no longer be a part of it. D-Line wasn’t part of his future. It couldn’t be part of his future.

  He was distracted by Peter coming into the room.

  “Finn. How are you? I’m glad you’re here. Marigold told me about the inquest. That must have been bloody hard.” Peter gave him a sympathetic nod as they shook hands.

  She did? “It was. Look, Peter, I want to apologise again. I felt terrible over the past few months – everything. It’s hardly been professional.”

  “Are you talking about helping Marigold with Julian’s issues?

  “Yes. And other things.” Sleeping with her. Falling in love with her. But Peter didn’t need to know that. He’d probably be furious. Marigold was the apple of his eye. There was no doubt that they got on well in a professional sense, but a poorly-educated former police officer? He’d think Marigold could do better. She could do better.

  “I appreciate the fact that you kept her confidence. She depended on you. We put you in a tough spot.”

  “I have too much respect for you and for this family, so I think it’s best if I take a step back from my work here at D-Line.”

  “You don’t want to work with us?” Peter asked.

  Of course he did, but how could he if he felt this way about Marigold? Go back to talking to her about security arrangements as though that night had never happened? Waiting for this invitation for coffee that would probably never materialise?

  “Finn, I know that we’ve put you in a lot of tricky situations, but I’m happy to not ask you to do any more personal things, only business. I rely on you, and Marigold will need to rely on you further once she takes over as CEO. She relied on you with all this Julian nonsense, and you know that she doesn’t like to ask people to help her.”

  He gave a small smile. God, he loved her. Could she ever love him back? Maybe she could in time. But realistically, once things settled down, she’d probably find some other rich, highly-educated, fancy guy to fill Julian’s expensive Italian shoes.

  “She’s tough.”

  “That she is.”

  “But she’s got such warmth. She doesn’t always show it, but it’s there.”

  Peter narrowed his eyes. “She does. You read people well, Finn.”

  “Training.”

  “Or instinct. I’m pleased you were there for her, and that she trusted you enough to help her. She doesn’t let many people in like that.”

  “She should.”

  “I agree. She should, Finn. She said you two had become close, and I think that’s a good thing. She’s never made friends easily, but she has a high regard for you.”

  High regard? He shook that off. That sounded like the way you’d feel about someone who worked in the office, not someone who you wanted to be with.

  “I’m sorry, Peter. I think this is the right decision.”

  Peter gave a resigned nod. “It’s your business, and I wish you all the best with it. My door is always open if you want to discuss anything.”

  “You’ve done a lot for me – I appreciate it. I’d never have half the contacts I do if it wasn’t for you. When I was first recommended to you I had little private sector experience, but you took a chance on me.”

  “You’re a smart operator, Finn. You’ll be successful without us, but I’m still disappointed that you don’t want to stay. However, I’m not going to tell Marigold about this conversation as I want to give you time to reconsider. And take it, she’ll need you.”

  Finn nodded, but his mind was made up. He just needed to tie up two more projects he’d started, hand them in and that was it.

  They shook hands and Finn left, with a sinking feeling as he realised that D-Line for so long had sort of felt like his home away from home, and this would probably be one of the last times he was there.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Marigold

  In all, she’d spent three weeks with Amelia and Frederick. She’d played with Erin, Charlie and Sienna. She’d taken Sienna horse-riding, built Lego with Charlie, cooked with Amelia and even gone to Book Club, which mainly was women drinking wine and complaining about their husbands. She’d enjoyed the wine and laughed at some of their stories.

  Her heart ached at times, hearing what the Book Club women complained about. Husbands leaving dirty socks next to the shower, or forgetting to fill the car with petrol, seemed minor in the scheme of things, but it was a reminder that no marriage was perfect.

  Though Amelia and Frederick’s marriage seemed pretty damned close to it, despite yet another home shopping networking exercise machine turning up halfway through her stay. Amelia promptly told him to put it in the home office, and if another item arrived, his home office would turn into his new bedroom.

  Marigold spent time with Frederick, running through his business plan with him and pointing out some efficiencies he could make in fuel costs and shipping. This made her further miss work, but not as much as she thought she might.

  But on the day she was to return, she felt a familiar buzz as she put on her favourite black suit and tan Prada heels and drove to work. It was good to be back, to see Kendall and slowly get back into her routine.

  She was happier with the ‘role flip’, and she and Peter were interviewing an operations person to support her in Melbourne, as Peter would be back in the Bendigo office.

  A few weeks back into work, she was walking through the hallway near her office, typing a message on her phone, when she clipped the shoulder of someone. “Finn. Hi.”

  He paused. “Marigold. How are you?”

  “I’m ok, thanks. Did you have a meeting here?”

  He rubbed the nape of his neck, as though he was trying to remove a headache. Was he getting a migraine? Had he eaten a trigger food?

  “I was tying up a project with Emily. How are you?”

  “You asked already. I’m fine.”

  He let out a small chuckle. “So I did.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t called you since we last spoke. I’m not long back at work. I ended up spending a couple of weeks with Frederick and Amelia.”

  Finn shook his head. “That’s ok. You didn’t have to. I didn’t either. I wasn’t sure what to say, or how much time you needed.”

  “I wanted to, but I guess I’m still working things out.” She took a deep breath. “But I do like you, Finn. I like you a lot.”

  She watched as his lips twitched into the smallest and most discreet of smiles. “You do?” He cocked his head in his English Pointer way he did. “I like you a lot, too.”

  “But,” she took a breath. “I’m not sure I’m ready to start dating.”

  He nodded. “I understand. Look, I’m not going to say something stupid like I’ll wait for you, because I don’t want to put pressure on you, but there’s no-one else who I’ve ever felt this way about.” He shot her a reassuring smile. “So, if you are ready, when you are ready, I’d love to take you to dinner.”

  She felt a little flip of her stomach as he said this. She nodded as they said goodbye.

  She watched him walk down the corridor and she felt the flipping disappear and a heavy feeling move over her body. Had she done the right thing there, letting him walk away? She’d really missed him over the past couple of months – much more than she thought she would. But it was too soon, wasn’t it?

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Marigold

  Marigold returned to her desk and brought up an internet browser. When was the right time to start dating again? She Googled, reading through a few different articles. Six months some said, a year said another, two years said another. She closed the browser. This was ridiculous. She wouldn’t find the perfect answer because there was no perfect answer.

  It took Simon’s wife three years to start dating. Finn’s mum had never dated again. That was right for them, but it didn’t mean that it was right for others. Maybe that night that she spent with Finn had been too soon. Maybe it had broken the rules, but it had felt incredible. Life wasn’t a perfect
set of rules. It was messy and unpredictable.

  She looked at the photo of Julian on her desk. She’d thought about putting it away in her drawer, but part of her wanted it there. He was part of her life, and always would be. But she also had to move on. Something he wouldn’t get the chance to, but something she would embrace.

  Especially when it felt right.

  She looked out of the window and saw Finn crossing the car park.

  “Kendall!” she called, hurriedly shrugging on her jacket and turning off her computer. “Cancel my meetings for the rest of the day, will you? And then, take the afternoon off.”

  Kendall appeared at the door, an astonished look on her face. “Are you ok, Marigold?”

  Marigold nodded. “I think I am. Have fun!” She grabbed her handbag and started to run down the corridor, but that proved impossible in her heels. She kicked off her shoes and threw them in her bag.

  At the lift, she pushed the buttons, but when it wouldn’t come, she ran to the fire escape, racing down each step.

  She reached the car park. “Finn!”

  He turned and smiled.

  “I don’t want to wait. I want to see you now,” she said as she reached him, her heart beating fast from the run and nerves. “I miss you. I’ve missed you so much in the last few weeks. I Googled it and I tried to find what was the right time to start dating again.”

  Finn gave her a puzzled look. “You Googled that?”

  “I Googled. And there’s no perfect answer apparently.”

  “I don’t think there is. I think you’ll know if you’re ready.”

  “I don’t know what this will look like. I have no plan, but I want to give it a shot with you.”

  He smiled again, and she felt her heart skip a beat. His smile was not seen a lot, though when it was, it was devastating. “Well, Ms Doyle, I don’t know what this could look like either, so what about we play it by ear? See what happens?”

  It was so frivolous and adventurous, but it sounded exactly what she needed. “Are you free now?”

  “Now?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Now,” she repeated. “Right now.”

  “Don’t you have meetings? A million conference calls and emails and files to work through? The Prime Minister waiting on the phone for you?”

  Marigold shook her head. “I cancelled them.”

  “You cancelled the Prime Minister?”

  She laughed. “No, I cancelled my other meetings.”

  “Just like that?” He cocked his head. “You just cleared all your schedule?”

  She nodded. “Kendall’s doing it now. But if you have things you need to do, that’s fine,” she added hastily. She didn’t want to force him to rearrange his whole day for her.

  He struck a grin. “Nothing I’d rather do. Hop in.” He gestured towards his car. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Surprise me. I want to spend some time with you.” She climbed into the car and did up her seatbelt.

  Finn did the same and looked over at her. “Is this our first date?”

  Was it? It seemed strange to think of it like that, given how much time they had spent together and how much they knew about each other, but he was right.

  “I guess so. That’s sort of exciting, isn’t it?”

  He turned over the ignition. “It’s a strange first date. I already know how you like your coffee. I’ve slept on your bed. I’ve met your parents. I know what sort of vodka you prefer. I’ve introduced you to my mum. I’ve already kissed you.”

  He shot her a look that caused a rush of excitement and lust to hurtle through her body. How could she ever have thought he was cold and grumpy? He was nothing like that at all. He was sensitive and funny and honest. He was… No, she was sure he wasn’t perfect. Actually, she knew for a fact that he wasn’t perfect. That was too much pressure to put on anyone.

  “Are you worried there’s no excitement, nothing left to discover?” she asked.

  Finn leaned over and kissed her, his mouth strong and hard on hers, the feeling of stubble on his chin rough on her skin. He pulled back and loosened the hair tie that was holding her bun in place. She felt her hair fall to her shoulders.

  “Do I seriously think that someone as smart and complex and interesting as you, can be figured out in a few months? It’ll take me a lifetime to discover everything about you. And I’m a licensed private investigator.”

  A lifetime? Perhaps that was simply a description, but at that moment, it sounded as though maybe it could be an exciting adventure to have him in her life for that long.

  “But I’m not really that perfect. What if you find out things you don’t like?”

  He shook his head. “No-one is perfect, but you know what? You, Marigold Doyle, are the most perfectly imperfect person I’ve ever met.”

  Perfectly imperfect. She’d take that. Perfect, after all, was totally and completely over-rated.

  THE END

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