“Addy…” Lee started, then stopped. “Okay, we’ll address the stuff about Dad later. And we will address it. But right now, we need to figure out what’s going on with the gallery. With your permission, I’d like to call them and hear their side of the story, because this reeks of a scam. If they’d wanted you to pay for damages, they would have sought you out. Stansworth’s threat to go public is empty. He got the charges dropped because he doesn’t want anyone to find out what he did, but he’s obviously still looking for a payday. My guess is he’s broke. Who knows what he told the gallery.”
She nodded, tears stinging her eyes again. “Okay.”
“I wish I were with you right now,” he said, his voice rough. “I wish…” He cleared his throat and swiped at his eyes. “I’m here, Addy. I’ll help you through this. Thank you for telling me the truth.”
“What about Dad?”
His jaw twitched. “He won’t be hearing about it from me.”
“And Victoria?”
He took longer to respond. “This is between you and me. And I guess Georgie.” Then he made a face. “And her new boyfriend.”
So his attitude toward River still needed a little work, but that was a conversation for another day. “I don’t feel right having you call the gallery,” she said. “I’m a grown woman. I feel like I should handle this myself. Be a grown-up, like Dad is fond of saying.”
“Dad’s wrong. You are a grown-up, Addy,” he said. “And sometimes, you need to let other people help. I’ll call the gallery and let you know what they say, but I might not be able to get a hold of anyone until tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Lee,” she said with a soft smile.
“That’s what big brothers are for. Let me do my job.” He cocked his head. “Is that a dog I see next to you?”
She lowered the phone to give him a full view of the quiet husky. “This is Tyrion. He’s a foster dog from the animal shelter that will benefit from the charity art show Finn Hamilton and I are putting together. We’re hosting it at Buchanan Brewery.”
“A charity art show? Tell me more,” he said fondly, without further commenting on the wisdom, or lack thereof, of someone in such an uncertain situation fostering a dog.
She told him about working with Finn, keeping her romantic feelings out of it. Lee asked questions, smiling when she told him about the woman with the goats.
“I miss you, Addy.” Her surprise must have shown on her face. “You have a joie de vivre most people lack, and it’s contagious. Don’t ever let anyone take that from you, okay? Not even Dad. Especially not Dad.”
That was probably the nicest thing he’d ever said to her, and instead of coming back with some smart-mouthed retort, she said, “Thank you.”
“I love you. I don’t say it enough, but I’m determined to change that. With both you and Georgie.”
Her jaw dropped, and she was about to ask him if he’d had a recent It’s a Wonderful Life experience, but then she heard Victoria’s voice in the background.
“Lee! Where are you? I need you to unbutton my jacket so I don’t mess up my nails.”
He made a face. “I’ve got to go so I don’t have to explain why I’m talking to you. Yeah, I know. It’s sad that I would have to explain why I’m talking to you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Her screen went blank.
Tyrion rested his chin on her lap, looking up at her.
She rubbed his head. “I know it’s been a lot. Jezebel. Finn leaving. My distressing call with my brother. It’s never a dull moment with me. I hope you can get used to it.”
He reached up and licked her chin.
“Yeah, yeah, I love you too. No need to get sloppy about it.”
Dottie texted soon afterward, saying that she’d invited Georgie and River to join them for dinner to celebrate the new addition. Adalia brought Tyrion back inside and settled down on the sofa to read a book, the dog lying on the floor next to her. It was a struggle to focus, her conversation with Lee running through her head on repeat, and when Jezebel started slinking toward them, looking every bit the panther advancing on her prey, she lowered the book onto her chest.
“Don’t do it,” she warned.
But Jezebel wasn’t about to start listening now. She leapt into the air, landing on the dog’s back. Adalia flinched, but Tyrion didn’t react at all as the cat kneaded his fur like he was a blanket, then curled up on top of him. It was a miracle.
When Finn texted her later, she snapped a photo of the cat on top of the dog, knowing he’d appreciate it as much as she did. She told him about the spontaneous dinner party, then stopped midway through typing I miss you. It was too soon for that, right? But she’d promised herself she’d do things differently with Finn, so she told him the truth—she wished he were here.
Her heart filled with happiness when he said he did too.
Dottie showed up with a feast, which did indeed include a separate cake for the animals, followed by Georgie and River, who had brought Hops to meet his new cousin.
Jezebel seemed to have grown bored with the whole new-member-to-the-household situation and hid in the living room, leaving Hops and Tyrion to get acquainted. After the humans and the dogs ate, they all headed out to the back yard. Tyrion seemed comfortable enough that Adalia let him off his leash, even though she worried he’d jump the back fence and run off. But he was too content, romping with Hops, playing fetch with a dog toy Maisie had sent home with him, to pay any attention to the fence. Finally, he got tired and lay at Adalia’s feet.
Adalia had loved every minute of the evening, but her mind kept drifting back to Alan’s behavior and the way Lee had stepped up to help. She was dying to tell Georgie, but she knew it was best to wait. Her sister looked too content, sitting on the bench next to River. They really were in love, and Adalia couldn’t be happier they’d found each other. But seeing them together put a strange ache in her chest.
“Where’s Finn?” River finally asked, and Georgie’s head jerked up. “I figured you would invite him too.”
“In Charlotte,” she said, tossing the toy into the yard and watching both dogs run after it. “Dinner with his parents.”
River cringed.
“Yeah,” she said with a soft laugh. “That’s exactly how he seemed to feel about it.”
Georgie looked away, her lips pressed together firmly, which suggested her feelings about Finn hadn’t changed. But they would. Adalia would help her see the man that she saw—the man who’d sparked such deep feelings in her, such joy, that she was beginning to feel the itch to create again. To pour herself into something. But it wasn’t the shed or even Dottie’s garage that called to her. It was the space behind Blue’s studio—with its high ceilings and all those windows. The sculptures she could create there…
When they all said goodnight, Georgie gave Adalia an extra-long hug before patting Tyrion on the head and saying, “Goodbye, nephew,” to which he replied with an atonal howl that made everyone laugh. They all left, and Adalia was once again alone with Tyrion. (Jezebel was hiding in parts unknown.) She headed up to her room, where she made a bed for Tyrion next to her own.
As she was getting ready to crawl into bed to watch a movie, she heard the ding of a text. She leapt for her phone, her stomach doing excited somersaults when she saw it was from Finn and not Unknown Number. He said he was regretting his trip, and she started to reply with a joke, only to stop and respond in a more serious vein, letting him know she understood. Then she moved them both on to something else. He helped drive away her dark thoughts and frustrations, and she wanted to do the same for him.
They set up a screen share on their laptops and stayed up late into the night, watching the end of Pride and Prejudice. She could have sworn he teared up at the end when Mr. Darcy told Elizabeth that she’d bewitched him body and soul and professed his love, but he vehemently denied it. After the movie, they talked about everything and nothing until both were heavy-lidded with exhaustion.
“You need to get some rest
, Finn,” she said softly, deciding to do the selfless thing and call it a night. “You need to be on the top of your game for your meeting. We can’t have you showing up looking like a zombie with half a brain.”
“And you need to go to work,” he said.
“That too.” She smiled. “Good luck with your meeting tomorrow.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes.”
It was such a simple promise, but it had a deeper meaning. This was important to him, and he wanted to share it with her.
She quickly hung up before they both changed their minds.
As she drifted off to sleep, she realized she’d just wished him luck on a project that would likely take him from her. But she wasn’t sure she was selfless enough to actually have meant it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Finn hadn’t wanted to like Bud, and truth be told, he didn’t. The man had all the charm and warmth of a block of unshaped granite, and his bald head was just as shiny. But he didn’t need to like Bud. Bud was just the money behind this enterprise. And Finn did like the people he was funding. In a weird way, Sean and Mo reminded him of himself and River—two young guys with a vision and the determination to get them places. They’d met at MIT and instantly bonded, Sean from New Jersey and Mo from a first-generation Afghani family based in Charlotte.
Their ideas for the company had first been cooked up at a frat party that both of them had found so objectionable, they’d retreated onto the back porch (in thirty-degree weather) rather than stay inside.
“I don’t know how I ended up having a scientific mind,” Sean said. “I come from a family of artists. My older sister even went to the Lanier School of Fine Art.”
Where Adalia had gone.
“Oh? When’d she go? A friend of mine also went there.”
“I was an oops baby,” Sean said. “She graduated probably fifteen years ago.”
Which meant she hadn’t overlapped with Adalia.
“Did she happen to know Alan Stansworth?”
Sean made a face that spoke volumes. “According to her, he made sure all of the girls knew him. She’s got some stories about that guy.” Then a panicked look crossed his face. “I hope he’s not like a family friend of yours or something. I mean, I’m sure he’s fine. Some people just have a creeper vibe without being actual creepers, so…”
Finn lifted a hand. “Nope. We’re on the same page. My friend had similar things to say.”
Mo gave Sean a look as if to say, Don’t blow this, which made him smile again. Yup, a bit like him and River, except these guys were legit geniuses. The inventions they’d made—and would make—would change the world. He had ideas for them. His mind was firing on more cylinders than it had since those early days with Big Catch.
At the end of a two-hour meeting, they broke for fifteen minutes. Then the guys came back and offered him the job, Bud smiling congenially like he thought he deserved credit for both the offer and Finn’s existence.
But they needed a CEO who would be there, boots on the ground. They needed someone in Charlotte. They needed someone who would devote themselves to Charlotte Robotics, and only Charlotte Robotics.
Finn’s home was in Asheville. His life was in Asheville. Adalia was in Asheville.
And a little part of him wasn’t so sure he wanted to sign one hundred percent of himself over to something new. It was exciting now, but at some point it would just be a business to run, right? Besides, it was hard to ignore the fact that his father had set all of this up, down to the horrible nondate with Charlotte last night. He wasn’t going to dance like a puppet just because Machiavelli had chosen a nice pair of strings.
“I’m sorry,” he said, surprised by how much he meant it, “but I don’t see this working out. I’m not interested in relocating right now.”
“Think about it,” Mo urged him. “We could really use someone like you to get us off the ground.”
“Yeah,” Sean said, tapping the table. “If you’re not willing to flat out take the job, do you do consulting?”
“Now, now,” Bud cut in, “no need to undercut his job title before he even accepts the position,” he said with a wink. It was obvious he thought Finn was feigning disinterest in order to negotiate a higher salary or a better company car. (Bud had mentioned three times that he’d bought a Mercedes for everyone in the family for Christmas last year.)
But Sean’s words had struck a chord with Finn. Consulting.
Could he do for Charlotte Robotics what he was doing for Bev Corp? Of course, their need was greater, its scope many orders of magnitude larger, but maybe…
“Let me think about everything and get back to you,” Finn murmured, his mind churning.
Bud, who’d chosen the seat next to his, slapped him on the back so hard he nearly fell off his chair.
“Good man! Now what say you we get lunch? My lovely daughter tells me you made quite an impression on her last night, but she mentioned something about a sleep condition?” He raised his eyebrows but thankfully didn’t give Finn a chance to explain. “Lunch is probably more your meal, I’d guess. Charlotte can be here in fifteen minutes. There’s a Bavarian place down the way that serves an excellent cut of meat. Only thing on the menu!”
Mo and Sean exchanged a look that suggested they realized lunch with Bud and Charlotte was not a universally appealing notion, but neither said anything. They wisely recognized who was feeding them. No rescue was coming from that quarter, so Finn decided it was time to put this whole medieval matchmaking effort to rest once and for all.
“My girlfriend would probably never forgive me if I went to a place like that,” he said, slapping Bud on the back. “Go figure. She’s a pescatarian.”
Probably Adalia would object to being called that—the “girlfriend” part, the pescatarian label was factual—but he decided he liked the sound of it.
Bud didn’t, judging by the way his face went red.
“Well,” he sputtered, “this is highly irregular. Your father assured me that you weren’t spoken for.”
Spoken for? What was this, Fiddler on the Roof?
“My father isn’t the greatest authority on my personal life,” he said, getting to his feet. “But he does employ one of the best private chefs in the city, so I hope Charlotte’s evening wasn’t totally wasted.”
He grinned at Mo and Sean, who looked like they were fighting smiles of their own. “I’ll be in touch. I’m not sure if I have a future with your company, but it’s abundantly clear that your future is bright. You’ve got a good thing going on here.”
Then, because he didn’t want to totally burn a bridge, he offered Bud his hand for a shake. The man shook a little harder than was strictly necessary, but Finn didn’t hold a grudge against his would-be father-in-law.
“Enjoy the meat!” he said on his way out.
Finn found a little restaurant for lunch, choosing a Mexican place (both to ensure he didn’t accidentally run into Bud and Charlotte and because it reminded him of Adalia), and finished his proposal for Gretchen. He sent it over and asked her to call him to discuss it, preferably later that evening or tomorrow because he had a personal commitment (i.e., date) on Wednesday.
By the time he paid the bill, the first irate text had arrived from his father: You told Bud you have a girlfriend?
Yeah, he answered, because I kind of do. Which you knew. Mom knows too, by the way, because I told her this morning. I like Mo and Sean, but I don’t see this working out. For what should be obvious reasons.
And others he didn’t feel like discussing.
Call me before you make any hasty decisions, his father said. There could be a real future for you there, with or without Charlotte. I just wanted to make you understand you have options, Finn. Across the board. Your vision is too limited sometimes.
I like these particular blinders, he said.
His father sent another message that he ignored in favor of writing a text to Adalia: Interesting meeting. Not going to take the job, but there mig
ht be some other opportunities with them. If my father’s friend doesn’t have me drawn and quartered for being disinterested in his daughter.
Adalia wrote back immediately, like she’d been waiting: I wouldn’t like you as much if you were drawn and quartered. Messy. Try to avoid it.
A smile tugging at his face, he wrote, I’m looking forward to our mystery date, but any chance you want to get together tonight? You still owe me a viewing of Fast Five.
Adalia: Can’t. I’m having dinner with Jack, a family/housemate thing, and tomorrow night I’m getting that drink with Maisie and Blue. I visited two of the artists this morning, BTW. One was brilliant, and I’m pretty sure the other runs a cult out of her garage. More on that later. I think we have a good roster, maybe just one or two more.
Disappointment tugged at him, but then he saw those three telltale dots.
Maybe I can come over after drinks? she wrote. Tuesday night could lead in to Wednesday?
He needed to put his phone down for a second so he could get himself back under control. Good God, when had any woman ever affected him like this?
The server shot him a concerned look, like maybe he thought he was having some sort of episode, and hurriedly wrote out the bill, slapping it on his table. The jarring sound helped him pull himself together.
What a scandalous suggestion, he wrote. Also, yes. Oh God, yes. I can’t wait to see you.
Even though he wasn’t seeing her tonight, he found himself driving a little faster than usual on the way back to Asheville.
He’d only had a few minutes to unpack his car—an easy thing since it had just been an overnight trip—and order takeout when his phone rang.
He knew Adalia had plans, but he fumbled it out of his pocket, only to see it was Gretchen. Since he’d already made a fool of himself in his haste to answer the call, he did.
Better Luck Next Time Page 22