Love and Rumors: A Summer Sisters Beach Reads Contemporary Romance (The Summer Sisters Book 1)

by Jean Oram

  “Finian’s always liked turtles,” his mother said, reaching for the tablet. “But I didn’t predict this environmentalist side.”

  “What environmentalist side?” he asked.

  His father shot Hailey an appreciative smile. “You’re a good influence, my dear. You really should work with him.”

  “Oh, Bob. They don’t want to mix business with pleasure,” his mother said with a sly smile.

  “So? The turtles?” Finn asked.

  “The tabloids are all over the whole turtle thing, Finian,” Daisy said. “That article with you down by the water has gone viral.”

  “The article?”

  “It was all about you saving the turtles. It started in the local paper here.”

  “My sister is going to love you,” Hailey said, reaching over to give him a light hug.

  He slipped from her grip. Derek was going to be livid. Two environmentally slanted news items in less than a week. Finn pinched the bridge of his nose and inhaled slowly. This was how his career tanked. And Hailey was smiling as though it was the best thing in the world.

  “Oh, Finian.” His mom leaned over the tablet. “Look at how handsome you are. Hailey, you are incredible. Look how you’ve portrayed my boy. You really see him.”

  That, it seemed, was exactly the problem. She saw him, but not his career.

  He stormed into the cottage, at a loss on what he should do.

  “What’s wrong?” Hailey asked, joining him.

  He pointed to the tablet she was carrying. “I need you to fix my image.”

  She grinned. “You’re on.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Well, helping Finian fix his image was proving to be a particularly bad idea. Photos she’d taken in her studio as well as out in public were spread over her worktable. And every single one of them he’d rejected. She had to check in on the Walkers, and get her show to Simone, and having him spend the past hour rejecting everything she’d suggested was starting to get to her.

  “I hired you to fix my image,” Finian said, arms crossed. He looked so serious and business-sexy. If the world could see what he looked like right now he’d never have trouble finding work again. Too bad he was impossibly difficult.

  “I don’t get it, Finian. You want me to bury the turtle stuff in an avalanche of bad-boy disasters? That’s not fixing your image, that’s building on what you already have.” She blinked back her disappointment and hurt.

  “Who’s going to pay money for this version of me?” His cheeks flushed as he waved a gorgeous photo of himself hunched on the rocks, looking concerned over the rare turtle in the background. The perspective was dead-on perfect. “This isn’t going to rebuild the damage you’ve caused to my image, Hailey. Don’t you get it?”

  Tipping her head up, she fought the tears.

  “I’m sorry that being seen with me did damage to your precious image. God forbid you be seen with someone wearing clothes.”

  “Hailey, don’t be a drama queen. You know what I mean. Two environmental articles in a span of two days. That’s not what the public imagines when they think of Finian Alexander. It’s incongruent.”

  She shook her head, her disappointment a heavy weight in her chest. She’d thought he’d seen the beauty and art in what she did, and had falsely believed that he wanted it for himself. For his image. To build and grow out of this phase. Instead he was asking her to bury the real things that had happened while he was with her. He was rejecting her and the things she stood for.

  She’d seen him maneuver last night. He’d held her up like a princess, while other people ran around, making his life effortless. He’d had locals take them parasailing, and wait in their boat while the two of them ate supper. He’d been polite and charming, but it was obvious who was being catered to, and there was no equal footing. And now she had put herself in a position where she was the assistant, hired to make his easy life perfect again. Not his girlfriend or equal.

  Hailey puffed up her cheeks, then blew out slowly. But she was a professional. She could handle this. This wasn’t personal. This was his image. His career. His car-crash disaster. It was his choice. Not hers.

  “Finian, we can’t work together. We have two very different visions, and I don’t want to fight with you.”

  She couldn’t believe she was giving up a good paycheck by saying no to working with him, but Simone was right. Hailey had let the cottage and its needs lead to enough career sacrifices. And now it was leading to friction between her and the man she liked. She closed her eyes, knowing that once her family saw the For Sale sign on Nymph Island, she might regret this moment. But it was still the right move to make.

  “Hailey, I hired you because you can do anything with that camera. You can capture my vision.”

  “I don’t care how much money you have, Finian, I have a reputation to protect, as well. I live in the real world where it took years to build up to who I am today.”

  “So have I.”

  “Everything depends on my reputation.”

  “Same here.”

  They stared at each other as a breeze wafted through the open garage door, stirring papers.

  “Then you understand why I can’t work with you.”

  He let out a growl and pushed away from the worktable.

  “Who do you want to be, Finian?”

  He shook his head at her, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t identify.

  “I know you see the other man you could be. You didn’t hire me, an award-winning nature photographer, to create some stupid fake drama. So why are you chickening out?”

  Finian moved closer, loosely wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He kissed her lips with a gentleness that scared her. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “Oh, Hailey.”

  “What?” She pushed away. That was a break-up voice. A you-don’t-understand-me voice that would soon say, “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  “Don’t you want to be more than some car crash that people stare at, grateful it isn’t them?” She could barely believe she was pleading with him. When had she begun to care so much about how others viewed him? Was it when she’d slept with him?

  No, it was before then. When she’d seen his exposed, vulnerable side, asleep in her chair. It was then that she’d felt the need to protect him. Not only from the world, but from himself. She had to convince him to see it her way. That the bad-boy persona was killing him. That he could be himself and get further.

  Finian placed a hand on the back of his neck and stared at the ceiling, his T-shirt pulling across his muscular chest.

  “Don’t you see who you could be?” she asked. “You could make a difference in this world. Use your power for good instead of evil.”

  “Dammit, Hailey.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Funny, but I think I do.”

  “Well, you don’t.”

  “Are you afraid the world won’t accept the real you—the man I’ve grown to care for?”

  His eyes flicked to hers and his breathing halted.

  She continued, “Are you afraid they’ll chew you up and spit you out?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  “But don’t you want to be more? Don’t you want to prove to the world that you’re more than what they see? That there is a real man under this artificial shell? What’s holding you back? Why won’t you be that deep and meaningful man I see, and who can change the world?”

  “This is exactly why I need this bad image, Hailey. Don’t you understand? It’s my chance to making a difference.”

  Hailey scoffed and crossed her arms. “How?”

  “The place where I grew up, Hailey. I made promises. Big promises. The only way I can reach those goals and meet my obligations is to be this man. This car crash you look down on. It pays the bills.”

  He cupped her chin, met her eyes. “If anyone knows how hard it is to pay the bills with meaningful art, it’s you, Hailey.”


  She tugged her chin away. “Yeah, and I’m doing fine.” Fine enough. Well, she would be if she didn’t have the heavy responsibility of the cottage.

  “But art isn’t easy, is it?” He pointed to the stacks of framed photos she was taking to Simone’s. “Are those your most arty photos you’re taking for your show, or are you hiding the real you?”

  She crossed her arms again. “You don’t know me, Finian. So don’t try and psychoanalyze me.”

  “I can’t just suddenly go all artsy, Hailey. Don’t you understand that? I can’t.”

  “So you’re going to reject your past? What about Desperate Cowboy?”

  Finian threw his hands in the air and fell into her old armchair, sending dust motes dancing as he gave a dramatic sigh. “That was a lifetime ago.”

  “It won awards, Finian. It was your start. Your roots.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” He turned his face away from her, his jaw set in a way that made shivers run up her spine.

  After a moment’s silence he said quietly, “That movie is incongruent with the image I’m currently cultivating. The world wants to know if I can hold an Uzi in a convincing way, not whether I can keep up a five-minute monologue without boring the audience. I’m in a world where I need to work out, not convey fifty different facial expressions without looking hokey. I can’t turn around and go back to my past without losing everything. You have to understand that. I made my choice ages ago and I have to stick with it.”

  He turned and made eye contact. His eyes were sad, heavy.

  “I’m not prepared to live on the fringe again. I have obligations, too, Hailey. I have responsibilities. I’m not a do-nothing star who has lived an easy life and goes along for the ride. There’s a lot of work involved. So if you want to help me, you have to do it on my terms.”

  “I can’t believe you’re not willing to consider that there might be a different option.”

  “You want to know me?”

  She nodded.

  “Then let me paint a picture. My parents had medical bills they’d been carrying for years. Dad’s not able to afford health insurance that will cover him, and every once in a while things go to hell. I’ve paid for all of that. I bought them a house in a decent neighborhood where they don’t have to worry about someone shooting up their front yard. Then I bought it back from the bank after one of Dad’s medical mishaps. I sent my brother to rehab. Then college. Started an anonymous college scholarship in the community where I grew up so other kids could get out. And I made all sorts of community development promises I’m about to renege on.” He began ticking things off on his fingers. “I have an agent who depends on me. A publicist. An assistant. They all rely on me making a living, so they can pay their mortgages, feed their kids. There are producers who could lose everything if I don’t bring it all to the table. I don’t just sit on screen and look pretty. There’s a lot of work involved. And I pay a helluva lot in taxes, too. I have commitments. And being the celebrity car-crash everyone wants to read about in the tabloids is my way of meeting them.”

  Hailey swallowed. “I’m sorry, I never realized.”

  She wanted to tell him being a bad-boy wasn’t the only option and that she understood obligations, but he continued on, a storm rocking his voice.

  “That’s exactly it, Hailey. You have no clue about me, my life. You’ve only met the version of me that you want to see. The guy on vacation.”

  She lurched as if she’d been slapped.

  “You have all these assumptions about me, but you’ve barely even bothered to try and learn more about me.” He stood and moved closer to her. “Did it ever occur to you that this image you look down upon is something I’ve carefully cultivated? That it’s actually part of a large, overarching, multiyear career plan? That this image is actually something planned out? That I know what I’m doing?”

  She blinked. Why would he slander who he was? Finian Alexander was perfect.

  “You sold yourself out?”

  He nodded, his eyes sad but fierce.

  “Why would anyone choose to be a disaster when they could be living their real life?” She blinked back tears, not understanding why being such a loser in the public eye seemed like the best option.

  “Have you not been listening?”

  Hailey hugged herself, turning away. “I just don’t understand.”

  She’d had to take jobs that didn’t fit with who she wanted to be, but she’d always kept her goals in mind and was always working toward them. But Finian seemed to be rejecting that path entirely. Everything real. And if he was rejecting everything real in his life, where did she fit in? Nowhere.

  She lowered her head with a sigh.

  Finian gripped her arms, ducking his head so he could see her face.

  “My agent has a full-fledged plan. A plan he’ll put into action if I don’t pull my head out of my you-know-what and get some publicity. He’s ready to leak made-up stories that will shorten my career. Yes, it will launch me temporarily, but not for long. This is a fickle business, show biz, and I need sustainability, Hailey. I depend on the work that comes in due to my image. Others do, too. So I have to ensure everything I put out there lines up with that image in order to shut up my agent, and get the roles I want. Being a bad boy is easy to maintain, because people do half of it for me. They’re always looking for the bad side and that’s something that is hard to screw up.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Or at least it was before I met you.” He flashed her a crooked smile. “Being this good boy you want, it’s difficult, Hailey. That’s going to bring criticism I can’t handle. I’m not perfect, and the image you want to present to the world is one I can’t maintain. I’m not that guy. I’m human.”

  She sagged, knowing she couldn’t convince him to see her side any more than he could convince her to see his. “Finian, can you go wait in the house? I need to think.”

  Unable to breathe properly, she placed a hand on his chest, and despite the pain inside, pushed him out of her studio, locking the door behind him.

  * * *

  Right. She’d just locked the object of her affections out of her studio.

  She sagged against the door, needing its support. She’d found the layers she’d been looking for and that had scared her. She’d had no idea he had all those obligations and commitments and was helping so many people. It made her own problems look insignificant. So what if she lost a piece of land? He was saving people.

  But why couldn’t he see that his false image wasn’t doing him any favors? That it would cripple him further down the career line and that it would eat away his soul? She’d tried the whole commercial thing and it had hurt her like she’d been swimming through shards of steel.

  How could anyone live like that?

  How could Finian?

  But more importantly, why would he choose to live like that when there were other options? It didn’t matter what you did with your life, there was never enough money. So why not do what you loved? If he let the world see who he really was he’d go so much further. So, so much further.

  Hailey didn’t even know why she cared what he did. It wasn’t as though they were in love and were planning to spend the rest of their lives together in Hollywood. That would be a recipe for heartache. She may as well tie her heart to a major highway and wait for a transport truck to smush it. If he wanted money and a bad reputation, then what was it to her? It wasn’t her job to show the world that he was a great guy, or convince him that he could make more money by following his heart.

  There was silence on the other side of the garage door. Had he given up on their argument that easily?

  She blinked back tears and sat at her computer, staring at the folder of images she’d taken of him being the man she and her sisters had always dreamed of. Someone kind and caring. Sexy. She clicked through sweet images of him with Tigger, the turtles, with fans. With him dappled in sunshine. A handsome, intelligent man with more depth than he cared to show. The world need
ed to see this side of Finian. The world would love this man. She couldn’t keep him to herself—and not when she knew it could help him achieve his dreams.

  Determined, she selected ten photos and uploaded them to her agent, along with intriguing captions, creating a story of the Finian she knew. It wasn’t enough to ruin his current persona, but it was enough to show Finian what she had in mind for an image makeover. He might never forgive her, but he also might be thanking her for the next sixty years.

  Her hands shook as she moved to her worktable. She looked at the stack of framed photos for her show. Finian was right; she was a hypocrite. She was hiding behind the commercial photos, instead of selecting the more arty ones. The ones where she’d followed her heart.

  She glanced at the closed door, then carefully tucked away the original stack of photos before framing the others, one by one.

  If Finian only knew the risk she was taking by choosing artistic photos.

  But it was her reputation. It mattered more than money, didn’t it?

  And if she was right about following one’s heart, then everything would turn out okay.

  She shook her head and smiled. She and Finian were so much alike and yet so different.

  There was a knock on her door and her heart sped up. Finian. She glanced at her computer and draped the dust cover over it as though it would profess her guilt if he saw it exposed.

  Slowly she unlocked the door and peered out into the midday sun.

  Finian pressed her palm against his lips, kissing it. “I’m sorry you can’t rebuild me the way you want to. It’s not you, it’s Hollywood.”

  “I know….”

  “I don’t want you mad at me.”

  She cocked her head. “But wouldn’t that be good for the image and all that?”

  “You know me better than that.”

  She drew a line down his chest with her finger. He moved closer, siphoning the air from between them as he tipped up her chin. “What do you see?”