Finn (Blue-Collar Billionaires #2)

by M. Malone

  There’s always tomorrow.

  CHAPTER TWO

  RISSA

  We’re saved.

  I look down at the contract on top of my desk. I’m not sure what angel heard my prayers, pleas and the wild sobbing into my pillow last night but it worked! This one contract to clean a pricy high-rise in Norfolk will be enough to keep my cleaning business, Maid-4-U, afloat.

  “We got it?” Daphne, one of my partners, sits on the arm of my chair and peers over my shoulder. Her blue eyes widen and she lets out a shriek.

  “Is that how much they’re paying us? Shut the front door!”

  I burst into laughter at her exuberance and for once don’t even bother to try to get her to curse like a grownup. In the past six months, I’ve dropped enough curse words for the both of us. Like the time our electricity was shut off and Tara had to take the laptop down to the local coffee shop that has free Wi-Fi to do payroll. With the amount of money we’ll pull in from this one deal, we won’t have to worry about that again for a long time.

  “Tara, get over here! You have to see this.”

  Although I shake my head, I don’t say anything when my other partner, Tara Petersen, shoves me to the side.

  We’re not too formal around here. The three of us have been working together for a few years now, just three broke girls who managed to turn cleaning houses into a thriving business.

  Tara picks up the contract and her lips move slightly as she reads it. She’s the stickler for details so I know her analytical mind is searching for potential errors or pitfalls. Her brown hair is sticking up all over the place as usual and with the blue streaks she recently added she looks like a high school kid. It’s funny that she’s the smart one of all three of us since people usually assume that I’m in charge. If Tara wasn’t so abrasive she’d be the one who negotiated with the clients instead of me.

  She turns to me and then places a hand on her hip. “I can’t believe you actually pulled this off. You said you’d been bidding on bigger jobs but I had no idea it was this big. How did you convince them to pay so much?”

  “I wish I could say it was superior negotiation skills but I really have no idea. This company found us. They were searching for a new cleaning service and asked for a quote. I got a call a few days ago that they’d reviewed my presentation and decided to go with us.”

  “This is what we’ve been waiting for,” Daphne declares. “Our luck is finally changing!”

  Tara looks up from the contract. “I wouldn’t get too excited just yet. Did you actually read this, Ris? They made some changes.”

  I snatch it back. “I read it. I mean, I sort of read it.” Her pointed look makes me feel like a kid in the principal’s office. “I read the original and that lawyer guy told me what changes he was making. So, that’s good enough. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t read through all that boring blah, blah, blah again. I fell asleep reading it the first time.”

  “Well, there’s some weird stuff in here.” Tara picks up the contract, waving it around as she makes her point. “It’s super specific about what time the cleaning has to happen and it's early. It says by eight am everyday. Also, the cleaning for the owner’s penthouse has to happen with him present and here’s the weird part; it has to be the same maid every time. If we send a different maid, that’s considered a material breach of contract. I mean, who the hell is this guy? Is it someone famous?”

  I stand up, coffee cup in hand. I’ve always been an early bird but since I’m now required to work such late hours, coffee is a main staple in my diet. There’s no way I could stay awake so long without it.

  “I have no idea but I doubt it’s anything that exciting. The name on the contract is some kind of company. I got the impression that most of the units are vacant.”

  “Maybe they just need it to be the same person so they can do a background check and be sure the person entering the owner’s place is trustworthy.” Even as she says it Tara doesn't look completely convinced. "Well, either way this is a huge contract for us. I'm not sure how we're going to handle this. We do have a couple of people who have asked for more overtime but we still need someone for the owner's suite."

  “I guess I could do it.” Daphne offered. “I usually work that time of day anyway.”

  Tara and I must have been wearing identical expressions of skepticism because Daphne crossed her arms and pouted. “What?”

  I walk over to the counter and then sigh when I see the coffee pot is empty. “It’s nothing Daphne. It’s just, what if the client is there and he’s a jerk?” Daphne is an absolute sweetheart but she can’t handle conflict. At all. If the client is difficult, Daphne would end up in tears within ten minutes.

  Tara doesn’t have any problem laying it all out there. “You don’t handle jerks well, Daph. He’d hurt your feelings and then I’d have to go kick some ass. So that won’t work. I guess I should do it.”

  This time, it’s Daphne and I who exchange looks. Finally I speak. “Um, Tara. If he’s a jerk that means you’d have to be nice and hold your tongue every time you see him. I don’t think that’ll work either. I’ll do it.”

  Tara shakes her head. “You’re already handing the Johnsons in the afternoon and the Mercer account in the evenings. You’ll be dead on your feet working that many hours.”

  “We can switch some things around. The Johnsons don’t care if it’s me cleaning their house or someone else. A couple of the part-time girls have been asking to go full-time anyway and now with this contract, we can finally afford to hire more help.”

  Tara narrows her eyes at me. “Okay but I've got my eye on you. You already look dead on your feet. I’m going to tell Gloria if you don't behave.”

  That makes me smile. My mom has been there since we started the business and she even worked shifts for us in the beginning. Once the business started to pick up, I made her cut her hours to only part-time. It’s been the greatest gift in my life to be able to help my mother, to take some of the weight off her shoulders. She’s always worked double-shifts to take care of us and for the first time in her life, she’s able to take it easy. Go out with friends and not have to stress over bills. I’ll do anything to keep it that way.

  “Gloria is having a ball dating some gentleman she met in line at the grocery store.”

  Tara laughs. “Only your mom would find a date while running errands. She can make sweatpants the new sexy.”

  “I know. I wish I’d inherited that from her.”

  “Uh, you did Miss Double Ds. Duh,” Tara makes a face. “You inherited her body and her work ethic. But that doesn’t mean she’d want you to run yourself into the ground.”

  “I’ll be fine. I can handle it.” I stress the last word, hoping Tara gets the hint.

  She knows that I’ve been going through some things lately but hopefully she won’t say anything in front of Daphne. I don’t need them both worrying about me. Working more hours won’t hurt me, if anything it’ll help me because I’ll have less time to think. That’s what I need the most right now, oblivion from thinking about the mess I’ve made of my life with my crappy choices.

  I pick up a pen and sign the bottom of the contract with a flourish. Daphne signs next and then hands the pen to Tara. She stares at me for a long moment, then finally sighs.

  "I guess we have to take a chance."

  "It'll be fine, Tara. Don't worry so much."

  “I don’t know what you two are yapping on about. We should be celebrating. This is a sign. Things are finally looking up for us girls. Woo hoo!” Daphne does a little booty dance next to the desk and we all burst into laughter.

  Their laughter and silliness is exactly what I need when my phone in my pocket suddenly feels as heavy as a brick. I should have never told Tara that Andrew was calling again, trying to establish contact. It was a point of shame that I’d never pressed charges against him but all I want to do is forget that time in my life. Now she’s worried about me and she doesn’t need to be. I’m not that person anymore
.

  I finally have it together and I won’t let anything take this away from me.

  * * * * *

  The next day I arrive at the address listed on the contract and stand outside just staring up at the imposing building. On the outskirts of downtown Norfolk, it’s obviously been recently renovated.

  My fingers curl around the tight band of my pencil skirt. Usually I'm wearing the same basic uniform as the rest of the maids, casual clothing covered by a green and yellow Maid-4-U apron that Daphne designed for us last year. But today, I'm here to bring the signed contract to the client and see the area we'll be working in. I have to look professional. Put together.

  I swallow against a wave of nerves and run my hands over my hair again. The unruly red curls tend to have a mind of their own so I’ve pulled them back into a low bun. I can’t screw up this job. This could be the start of a whole new wave of luck for our business. Daphne is the optimist, but secretly I’m starting to agree with her that this new deal is a sign.

  Our luck is finally changing.

  After my moment of self-reflection, I walk into the lobby. It’s not as impressive as I imagined it would be. Considering the amount of money we’ve been offered to clean this place, I was expecting solid gold floors and diamond encrusted door handles. But it’s just a plain entryway painted builder white.

  There’s a man behind the counter. I nod at him and then take a seat on one of the couches in the waiting area. Mr. Stevens is supposed to meet me here and take me up so I can see the property and meet the owner. After about ten minutes, I pull out my cell phone. Where is he?

  What is it with rich people? They always think everyone else should be on their timetable. It makes me think about Andrew. He’d done this type of thing often. He would rush me along but consistently show up late or not at all when I needed him. The only time he’d really shown emotion was anytime someone mentioned my relationship with Finn.

  I close my eyes.

  Even now years later just the thought of him is enough to bring tears to my eyes. My sweet, Finn. His family lived in the same trailer park and we’d shared the experience of being the trash from the wrong side of the tracks at our school. He’d been my first kiss, my first love. My first everything. Then after school he’d gone off to the army and things had never been the same.

  I’m suddenly pulled from my thoughts by the sound of my name. The man behind the front desk is standing now, peering at me with interest. “Miss Blake?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Mr. Stevens just called. He told me to let you up immediately.” He stands and walks to the elevator. I follow him on and then watch as he inserts a key from the massive ring in his hand. He twists it and then punches the button for the twelfth floor. I watch in surprise as he steps back out. The doors close behind me and the elevator hurtles upward.

  The nerves I felt downstairs come back full force when the doors open with a ding. I step out of the elevator and into a hallway. There are doors at the end of the hallway in both directions. I let out a little sigh. It all seems a little rude, to summon me up here but not have anyone waiting to show me where to go.

  I look down the hallway to my left. The door to 15B is partially open. That must be it, then. I walk down the hall, my feet sinking into the deep luxurious carpet. When I push open the door, it doesn’t make a sound.

  “Hello?”

  I walk inside and then stop in awe. It’s so beautiful. I never even knew that apartments like this existed in Norfolk. The ceilings are much higher than normal. I estimate that they must be at least fifteen feet high. The room I’m standing in has two large, deeply stuffed couches angled to face the windows. To my left is a beautiful gourmet kitchen with tall, cherry cabinets and gleaming stainless steel appliances. There’s a hallway to the side that must lead to the bedrooms.

  I’m going to be working here? As I look around in wonder, I have to ask why the owner even hired me. The place looks pristine already.

  There must be some mistake. Maybe the owner just wanted to meet here so we could talk about the contract before he shows me the apartments in the building that actually need cleaning. But even still, I’m sure the other apartments in the building must be lovely, too.

  “Hello? Sir?”

  It hits me then that I don’t even know the owner’s name. Mr. Stevens has been my contact throughout this entire process and although there was a company name on the contract, I didn’t even think to ask the name of the representative the company would be sending over.

  “Do you like the view?”

  The deep voice comes from the shadows of the hallway. Even though I just called out for someone, it startles me. And all at once, it reminds me that there’s no one else here. When I agreed to this meeting, it was under the assumption that Mr. Stevens would be present as well. But now I’m alone with some man that I’ve never met.

  A man with a voice that’s both haunting and terrifying.

  “I do. This is a beautiful place,” I answer, hoping that he’ll come out from the hallway so I can see what he looks like.

  I really hope he’s not creepy or some kind of jerk, the way Tara thought. But even if he is, I’ll have to deal with it because we can’t afford to lose this contract.

  “I bought it just this year. I enjoy surrounding myself with beautiful things.”

  His words are strangely inappropriate yet I’m enthralled. I should be angling closer to the door so I can get the hell out of here if he does anything weird. But I can’t move. There’s something about his voice. The way he speaks. It’s familiar and heartbreaking all at once.

  “You pulled your hair back. Hair like yours should never be restrained.”

  Even before he steps forward, my traitorous heart skips a beat. How could I ever forget that voice, the voice that promised me that I’d never be alone, that he’d always be there? That we’d be a team. The voice that told me I was everything before I was foolish enough to throw it all away.

  “Finn?” My voice comes out as a whisper and I hate myself for the weakness.

  “Rissa.”

  My eyes almost roll into the back of my head hearing him say it. No one has ever been able to make words into a caress the way he does, rolling the letters over his tongue like he wants to make love to every inch of me starting with my name. Against my will, memories of the pleasure I once knew at the mercy of that tongue roll through me. The things he used to do … Heat blossoms and unfurls inside me, spreading through my limbs until I have to grab the back of the couch behind me to keep from collapsing into a heap on the floor.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He steps out from the shadows of the hallway and into the light and I gasp. Without a thought or care, I spring forward my arms outstretched.

  “Finn? What happened to you? Are you all right?”

  He’s walking with a slight limp, relying heavily on the ornately carved cane in his right hand. In my shock, I don’t notice the distaste on his face at least not until he takes a step back.

  “I’m fine.” His curt reply leaves no room for misinterpretation. Whatever happened to him isn’t something he’ll be sharing with me. The rejection stings but then again, considering our history, why should I have expected anything else?

  “Where’s Mr. Stevens? Do you work with him or something?”

  Finn walks forward, passing me without comment. Then he settles himself on the couch and rests the cane against the arm next to him. “Mr. Stevens works for me. He’s one of my lawyers. I had him handle procuring a cleaning service on my behalf because I simply don’t have the time or desire to do it myself.”

  His words are so impossible that I just stand staring at the back of his head for a minute. His hair is slightly darker than it was when we were in high school, more brown than blond. But he still has the wayward piece in the back that grows in a different direction than all the rest. The sight brings it all home and makes it real. This is Finn.

  And he owns this building.<
br />
  “You’re the client?” He doesn’t acknowledge me but I know instinctively it’s true. I walk around and take a seat on the couch facing him.

  "He came back, Rissa.”

  "Who?" I'm still so shocked that he's here that I'm having trouble following the thread of the conversation.

  "My father. He's back. And he's wealthy. So now I am, too."

  This is huge. Growing up, we had so many conversations about our fathers. I've never met mine and Finn's took off when he was small. I know how big of a deal this is for him. But he seems strangely nonchalant about it, like it doesn't even matter. And I don't know him well enough anymore to gauge his mood.

  “So, why did you hire us?” Moving the conversation back to business seems to be the safest course.

  “Your business offers cleaning and home management as well, is that correct?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “That’s why I hired you. I need a cleaning service for this entire building and someone to handle organizing my space as well.”

  Stunned, I just stare at him. How does he even know that we do all that?

  When Daphne, Tara and I first started, we envisioned a service that helped people organize their entire lives. From keeping appointments to closet reorganization to cleaning. Everything. Unfortunately in this economy most of our customers don’t have the money to hire us for any extras. Most just want cleaning services and many have scaled back to only monthly cleaning. Weekly or daily clients are hard to come by.

  Now here is our first client willing to pay for the full-service and it’s someone that I can’t deal with.

  “So you hired me, even with our history?” Something about this isn’t right. Why would he do that? Unless he’s trying to start something again. The last time we spoke was when I ran into him randomly in town before he was deployed for the last time. I’m the one who broke things off so I wasn’t expecting him to be happy to see me but he hadn’t even been able to look at me then. So why would he seek me out now?