She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you high as well as drunk? The only place I’m going, Finn McManus, is straight back to San Francisco. There’s a late flight out tonight and I’m planning on being on it. So get out of my way and let me grab my bag from the bell desk so I can head to the airport. I think I’ll have just enough time to make the flight.”
“Delilah, please?” he begged, his hands dropping to her shoulders. “Come on, baby. You don’t have to tell me how majorly I just screwed up, but at least give me a chance to apologize, to make it up to you. And after you flew all this way just for me, let me buy you a nice dinner. And you shouldn’t fly back tonight, especially since I can guess how hard you had to work in order to get away. Stay the night, okay? Please, baby.”
Enraged at his assumption that he could smooth everything over by sweet talking her and buying her dinner, she poked him in the chest with the tip of her nail, feeling an immense sense of satisfaction when he winced in pain. “First of all,” she hissed, “you so don’t get to call me baby right about now. Second, after that nauseating display I just witnessed I seem to have lost my appetite. And third, if you think for one minute that I’m going to sleep in the same room as you tonight - much less the same bed - then you’re even drunker or dumber than you seem.”
“I get that,” he replied sadly. “I know you’re really, really mad right now, and I don’t blame you in the least. And I understand if you don’t want to share a room with me, even though I was already planning to take the sofabed. I’ll just get a separate room for you then so you don’t have to fly back tonight. Or I can crash with one of my buddies - his wife couldn’t make it because she’s expecting a baby real soon - and you can have my room.”
“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest and wished he didn’t look so damned miserable because she really, really wanted to slug him right now. But when he turned those sad puppy dog eyes on her the urge to do him bodily harm lessened.
“I want to go home, Finn,” she insisted. “Tonight. You have no idea what I went through just to be able to come here this evening, no idea at all. Calvin and I have been working almost round the clock to make this happen, it was going to be a big surprise, and it turns out I was the one to be surprised. No, make that shocked. And certainly not in a good way. So since there’s no point in my hanging around here - because there is no possible way I want to be near you right now - I might as well go home so I can get some badly needed work done in the morning.”
Finn tightened his grip on her shoulders. “Please, can’t we try and talk this out, Delilah?” he pleaded, his voice beginning to sound more than a little desperate. “I made a mistake, a big, fucking mistake, and I’ve already admitted I had way too much to drink. And when I drink a lot I tend to do stupid things. I don’t have any real excuse for doing that, just - well, I just missed you, I guess. Plus I was still angry that you wouldn’t find a way to come with me. I guess maybe my feelings were hurt, you know?”
She poked him with her fingernail again, harder this time. “And you don’t think maybe my feelings aren’t hurt right now?” she hurled at him. “That they aren’t fucking destroyed? But then you didn’t see the - the orgy through my eyes, did you? I should have taken a picture so you could see for yourself just how bad it looked, Finn. Those women hanging all over you, everybody fawning over you, all the booze everywhere. And you - you were enjoying it all, you bastard. You looked to me like you were in your element, that you were finally able to let your alter ego out to play without your nagging girlfriend nearby to be a buzzkill. Except that the Finn I saw a little while ago isn’t your alter ego, is he? That’s the real Finn McManus. And the Finn you’ve been pretending to be around me all these months is just a sham.”
“No, no,” he groaned, grabbing hold of her hand and taking it between both of his. “That asshole you saw a few minutes ago was me at one time. But ever since I met you that Finn hasn’t been hanging around.”
“But he’s still there, Finn,” insisted Delilah. “Still lurking beneath the surface and just waiting for an opportunity to come out and enjoy himself.”
She felt hot tears begin to shimmer in her eyes and furiously blinked them away.
“How can I ever trust you again?” she whispered brokenly. “You said yourself that this weekend was just the beginning of your travels over the next few months, that you’d have to go to L.A. every weekend, plus other, longer trips as well. How do I know that you aren’t going to do something like this every time you’re away? And the next time I won’t be able to join you, what’s to stop you for taking it even further?”
“I swear to God this will never happen again, Delilah,” vowed Finn. “Just please let me make it up to you. I’m so sorry, so damned sorry. Like I said, I was pissed off and feeling sorry for myself, and I made some bad decisions, let myself get talked into hanging out with the wrong group of people when I should have just gone back to my room alone.”
“I get it,” she snapped. “Your fragile little ego was bruised because for once in your life you weren’t the center of someone’s universe. Because you didn’t get your own way. Well, sorry, but I don’t have time right now to stroke your enormous ego. Or worry every time you go away what sort of trouble you might get into. I saw what my mother went through with my father every time he went away on one of his business trips, saw her crying and worrying. And I swore I’d never, ever get involved with a man who was anything like my father. Yeah, I know, I know. You’re not married like he was. But you and I did make promises to each other, Finn - promises that we’d be the only person in each other’s lives for as long as this lasted. And I think it’s lasted long enough, don’t you?”
Finn’s face drained of all color at her words, and he looked like he might even pass out as he slapped a hand against the wall to hold himself up. “You don’t mean that,” he rasped, his green eyes wide with shock. “You’re just angry right now, and hurt, and exhausted. You need to give me a chance, Delilah, a chance to make this up to you and prove that I’m worthy of your trust.”
“I did give you a chance,” she cried, jerking her hand from his grasp. “I never wanted to go out with you, Finn, knew that there was a better than even chance something like this would happen sooner than later. But you kept at me, and kept at me, until I finally said yes, figuring I’d be just another of your one-night stands. The fact that you’ve been on your best behavior this long frankly astounds me, but I should have known better. I should have known that you’d eventually break my heart.”
He held out his hand to her. “Delilah, don’t do this, please. Give me another chance. Give us another chance.”
She shook her head. “Leave me alone, Finn. I mean it. I don’t want to be with you right now, or talk to you. I can’t say for sure if this is over with, but for the moment you definitely need to give me some space and back off.”
An elevator door opened to her right just then, and before he could react she sprinted inside and hit the button for the lobby, refusing to look in his direction as the doors closed. She was grateful this time for the chaos in the lobby, figuring that it would make it that much more difficult for Finn to locate her if he came searching, which he was sure to do. She re-claimed her bag from the bellman, hurried out the main entrance, and was safely ensconced within a taxi in less than ten minutes.
During the return trip to the airport, which fortunately took far less time than the ride out, she used her phone to book her return flight, relieved to note there were still a few seats available. She swapped out her stilettos for the flats she’d worn earlier, then fished out a lightweight cardigan from her bag. It wouldn’t completely cover her glamorous cocktail dress, but it would be better than nothing. And just before the taxi pulled up to the airport, she quickly deleted all ten of the text messages Finn had sent her in quick succession before blocking his phone number with a ruthless sense of glee.
She made the last flight out to San Francisco with a scant twenty minutes
to spare, and was back at her condo shortly before midnight. Practically collapsing from the combined effects of exhaustion, anger, and sadness, she unplugged her landline from the wall after noticing the dozen messages that were undoubtedly from Finn. She noted absently that she’d have to block his numbers from her home phone, too, as well as demand her key back or have her locks changed.
But as she began to take off her makeup and get ready for bed, she noticed the toiletry articles he’d begun keeping in her bathroom. And it was then - at the sight of his razor and toothbrush and aftershave - that it all became far, far too much for her to cope with any longer, and the sobs broke from her throat uncontrollably.
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Finn quite like this before, Max. Sure, he’s been down in the dumps in the past, like when he didn’t get drafted by the 49ers and found out he was going to Miami instead. Or when he threw that interception in the last regular season game, which wound up costing his team a playoff spot. But neither of those times has been anything like this. I’m starting to think maybe I should write him a prescription for Zoloft or Prozac to help snap him out of this depression he’s sunk into.”
Max shook his head. “He doesn’t need anti-depressants, Jordan. More like a good, hard kick in the arse to snap him out of it.”
“I can hear both of you loud and clear, you know,” retorted Finn. “You just think you’re being discreet. Not the case, guys. And I don’t need to pop pills or get my ass kicked. What I need - never mind, let’s not go there again, okay?”
“Would you like one of us to try calling her?” offered Jordan. “I mean, since it looks like she’s hanging tough to her decision not to speak with you ever again.”
Finn scowled. “She never said ever again. Her exact words were “for the moment”. And no, I do not want either of you assholes calling or emailing Delilah and asking her if she still likes me. Christ, what do you think this is anyway - junior high school?”
Max shrugged. “Considering that she told you “for the moment” more than three weeks ago, I’d say you should seriously consider Jordan’s offer. Either that or accept that it’s over, snap out of this funk you’ve been in, and move on.”
Jordan let out a low whistle. “Wow. What’s with the tough love this afternoon, Max? I thought the whole reason we strong-armed Finn into going out with us was to cheer him up, take his mind off his problems, and remind him that we’re here to support him.”
“Which is exactly what you and I have been doing for almost a month, Jordan,” Max reminded him briskly. “And since the hand-holding and back-patting and commiserating hasn’t done a damned thing to help, I thought perhaps a change in strategy might be called for. Besides, if attending a baseball game - a pastime you know I despise - isn’t proof of my support then I don’t know what is. Why we couldn’t have gone to the theater instead is beyond me, especially since the play is a comedy and there was a matinee performance this afternoon.”
Jordan sighed. “Because we’re trying to cheer Finn up, that’s why. And since he happens to really like baseball, I figured it was a good idea to do something that he’d actually enjoy doing. Though from the looks of him, I’d say our idea hasn’t exactly been a rousing success so far.”
“I’m still right here, you know,” retorted Finn. “Can still hear every word loud and clear. And while I appreciate the effort you guys are making - especially Max, AKA Mister Empathy - I don’t think anything is going to help. Hell, I don’t even think a combination of Disneyland, the circus, the zoo, and two dozen puppies could get a smile out of me right now.”
“Hey, at least you’re talking,” pointed out Jordan a tad too cheerfully. “For awhile there I thought you might be catatonic or something.”
“I’m not catatonic,” insisted Finn. “I’m - hell, I don’t know what I am these days except a big fucking mess. Tell you what. Let’s just watch the game and hold the conversation for now, okay?”
Max and Jordan nodded, agreeable for the moment to let him continue to wallow in his miserable state of self-pity and near-despair. The same state he’d existed in - if you could call what he’d been doing lately really existing - ever since that awful, catastrophic night in Las Vegas.
He shuddered now to recall the tawdry, disreputable scene that Delilah had stumbled upon in that nightclub - with him two sheets to the wind, laughing and joking with a rowdy group of current and former football players, and three women hanging all over him. Some of the details were still a little hazy, but he remembered that there had been dozens of empty glasses and bottles of booze crammed onto the table where he’d been holding court. The lurid scenario must have resembled a wild, hedonistic bacchanal, a fitting sort of party for a place called Caesars Palace.
He hadn’t blamed Delilah in the least for fleeing that dreadful scene as fast as possible, and for refusing to remain in Las Vegas one minute longer than necessary. If their positions would have been reversed, Finn knew he would have been out of his mind with anger and hurt, though instead of discreetly exiting the wild party on his own, he would have tossed his woman over his shoulder and forcibly carried her out of the place.
But while he totally understood why she had been so angry and disappointed by his disreputable behavior, he had really believed that after a little time had gone by she would be prepared to at least talk to him face to face, to let him apologize profusely, and beg her forgiveness. Those beliefs, however, had weakened with each day that passed and with no attempt on Delilah’s part to contact him. And Finn was beginning to run out of the various creative ways in which he’d tried to get in touch with her - and also beginning to run out of hope that she would ever agree to speak to him again.
She’d blocked both his cell and home phone numbers, and was either deleting the numerous emails he’d been sending on a daily basis, or had figured out some way of blocking his email address, too. She hadn’t asked for the return of the key he had to her condo, probably because that would have involved actually communicating with him in some manner, but even someone as arrogant as Finn wouldn’t have entered her place unannounced and without permission. He’d intentionally hovered outside of his door at various times of the day and night, often as early as four in the morning or as late as eleven in the evening, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but thus far it hadn’t happened. Armando had reluctantly informed him that Ms. Ferris had more or less threatened to tell the owners of the building if she discovered he’d told Finn anything about her comings and goings. And since the concierge really needed his job, he’d told Finn that his days of playing informant were over, at least for the time being.
But Finn hadn’t been that easily deterred, and continued to look for ways to get in touch with Delilah, or at least let her know that she was constantly in his thoughts, that he wanted nothing more than a chance to talk to her for a few minutes. He’d sent an untold number of floral arrangements, plants, fruit baskets, boxes of candy, and even a giant Teddy bear holding a heart shaped pillow with “I Love You” written on it. He had had all of his gifts delivered to her office, knowing that Calvin would be the one to sign for any such deliveries. And unlike that traitor Armando, he knew that he could count on Delilah’s sly, conniving PA to be on his side, given that Calvin wanted his boss to get back together with Finn almost as much as Finn did - though his reasons might be somewhat on the self-centered side.
“You have no idea what a beyotch the Boss Lady has been ever since she caught you red-handed in Vegas,” Calvin had confided in a hushed voice just a few days after what he referred to as “the incident”. “You ever hear that saying ‘I have one nerve left and you’re getting on it’? Well, that’s what it feels like every single time I tiptoe into her office lately. She doesn’t know it yet but I secretly removed every sharp object from her office, or anything heavy that she could throw at me.”
“FYI,” Finn had replied in a huff, “she didn’t exactly catch me red-handed. There was no hank
y-panky going on, honest.”
“Hah, hah. Pull my other leg while you’re at it,” Calvin had retorted snarkily. “From what I managed to pry out of my very cranky boss, you had one tart on your lap, and two others trying to dislodge her. And judging by the pictures I saw, you practically had a foursome going on there.”
“Pictures?” Finn had asked in a panic. “What pictures are you talking about?”
“Oh, please. Like the tabloids weren’t chomping at the bit to get some new footage of the biggest player in the NFL - the biggest off the field player, to be exact,” Calvin had snickered. “You made the front page of at least three of them. And sorry to say, but the pictures make everything look ten times worse than what I heard from the boss. You’d better hope that she never sees any of them, because there would be zero chance she would even allow your name to be mentioned in her presence again.”
“Shit.” Finn hadn’t even considered the idea of the tabloids publishing photos from that damned party. He had hoped and prayed that Desiree had given up her habit of regularly searching the internet for tawdry news stories about him, and then passing that information on to her sister. “We’ll have to hope for the best, I guess. Now, tell me. What did she say when the cookie bouquet was delivered?”
There had been a several second pause before Calvin had responded. “Um, well, she didn’t eat any of them if that’s what you mean. And she told me to leave them in the break room for anyone who wanted one. But at least she smiled for a couple of seconds when she saw them. At least, I think that was a smile. But it could have been a snarl, too.”
Finn had heaved a sigh of frustration. “Yeah, I think it’s going to take a lot more than some cookies and flowers to win her back, Calvin. Look, thanks for keeping me in the loop, buddy. I know you want to be loyal to Delilah, so I really appreciate you sneaking info to me from time to time.”
The Player Gets Coached Page 32