by Brea Viragh
“You have to get the paperwork in for your new job?” he supplied.
“Yes. Yes, I do. Tax purposes.”
“I’m sorry about Weston, I am. I know you’re hurting and nothing I say can make it better.”
Sparing a glance at Finn, I caught him staring intently. I was used to those eyes, a different shade of blue depending on his mood. They were always tilted up, though, whether it was with anger or humor. Today they widened to take me in, and what I saw there scared me.
Compassion.
I broke his hold. I didn’t need his sympathy. “Stop trying to be kind. It doesn’t suit your character.”
He adjusted the pillows behind him with forced indifference, his hold on me broken. Punched a pillow when it didn’t feel comfortable. “You’re right. Understanding isn’t in my nature. Weston was a little bitch and I’m not sorry he’s leaving. I’ll be glad to see him out of my life and out of this town for good.”
“Yeah?” I sneered. “Why are you glad?”
“Because it means you can start being yourself instead of who he wanted you to be.”
I gasped. “I’ve been myself this entire time.”
“Or maybe you haven’t,” he retorted quickly. “Seems to me you took a lot of extra steps because he was the one who ordered them. I indulged you, trying to help, but I don’t have to hold my tongue anymore.”
“When have you ever held your tongue? Don’t make me laugh.”
“There’s the smile.” Our shoulders touching, he reached out to gently tap my chin with his knuckle.
“You’ve always been the honest one, Finn,” I rambled. “I’m not sure what I’m doing. I thought I did this whole time, but once Weston left, I realized I had no clue.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m going to have to get back to you on that. When I find out, I’ll let you know.”
“Well, I want—”
“A cold beer and a quick lay?” I interrupted with a cheeky grin.
“Sure, those would be great. I wouldn’t say no to either.” He fisted his hands at his sides before tapping the tops of his knees. “You told me I needed to get up. To get out of this bed. It took me too long to realize you’re right.”
“Wait…I’m right?”
“Yes, you.”
“Pardon me if I’m having a hard time believing you, with your perpetual hard-on for being stubborn and a superiority complex to put Donald Trump in the shade.”
I’d meant for the humor to cut through the tension filling the room. Electricity skittered along my arms and had each hair standing on end.
“Finn? You aren’t laughing.”
When I looked up, his eyes were on me again. “I’m trying to be serious. I want you to know I wouldn’t be sitting here, dangling my legs over the bed with my ass hanging out the other side of this hospital gown, if it weren’t for you.”
“I think you mean Cassandra. Or maybe Weston, because he’s the one who made the call.”
“Because of you,” he insisted. “I want you to know you’re…important to me. I’m for real this time, Ros.”
“I’m important to you because I grab your undies from the drawer when you ask me to,” I said, wondering if this was another one of his mind games.
“You’re—”
“Finny, this better be hot enough, because I have third degree burns on my hands.”
Cassandra was a whirlwind, bursting through the door in a flash of pink. She cupped the mug, oven mitts protecting her hands from the worst of the heat.
The tension snapped and dissipated.
“You know, you’re right, I’m not needed here,” I finally said. “This will go a lot smoother without me. Besides…paperwork.”
“Ros, you don’t have to leave.” Finn lifted his hand to grab me a second time before letting it fall to his lap. The guise slipped effortlessly over his features and I saw the perpetual flirt again. The rogue with enough arrogance for every man on the east coast. “I’m happy to have two girls at once. I may be a little rusty, but I’m sure I can manage to satisfy everyone.”
There was his signature grin, back in place. The image almost dispelled the seriousness of our previous talk. Almost.
“As much as I’d love to help you out, I think we should let Cassandra do her thing,” I answered, slinging my purse over my shoulder and hurrying to the door. “You two kids have fun now.”
It took fortitude to make it to the front door without going back inside the room. It took guts not to turn around when I heard Cassandra laugh at something Finn said.
And it took courage to start the car and drive away.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I have a client who wants a walk-through on a condo. You have your license now, freshly minted. Handle it for me, will you?” Garth glanced at me with open, pleading eyes.
I narrowed mine in response. “Why do you want me to take this? There must be something going on.”
One week later and I’d fallen into the rhythm of the workplace. It helped my mind, being able to focus on something I’d always felt was important. There was rhyme and reason here. An order to the world. Steps taken to get from point A to point B.
Garth being sweet as a pussycat was an immense help. He was in the office at any given moment and always willing to lend a hand. His energy fed mine and, along with the two other part-time agents in the area, we managed to get in stride within the first few days.
The case he pushed toward me must be one he didn’t want to take himself. The line of sweat beading along his brow told me that much.
“What’s the real reason?” I wanted to know.
“Because she’s a younger woman and I think you’ll do better with her than I would.”
His answer rang with honesty. A pussycat he may be, but a lady-killer? That wasn’t in his cards.
“You are too modest.” I shook my head and grinned. “Sure, I’ll show her around. When does she want to go?”
“Can you meet her in an hour?” he asked tentatively. Looking, I realized, like he’d expected me to blow up at him. “She’s expressed a great deal of interest for this particular property. Wants it fast.”
Drumming my fingers on the desk and mentally calculating the time, I said, “I’ll head out there when I’m finished filing.”
Garth released a breath, his body shaking with the effort. “Thank you. I’ve got a couple who want acreage and I’m much more comfortable taking them around.”
“You got it. Although how you managed without me, I’ll never know.” I flashed him a wink and grabbed a stack of paperwork.
An hour later, I sat in the parking lot in front of the condo, going over the listing details. This was a chance for me to prove myself, prove that all the studying I’d done hadn’t gone to waste.
It was a good area, within walking distance of downtown and the amenities Heartwood had to offer. What little there were. All in all, a good deal and a quick sale. I had this one in the bag.
The folder I’d prepared tapped a tattoo on the dashboard while my teeth worried my lower lip. This was the first real prospect I’d be working alone. The past week, I’d shadowed Garth on several showings, learning what I could from his technique.
Finally, the rubber was on the road.
Before any self-deprecating thoughts could take hold and root, a tiny Toyota pulled up in the parking lot with tires screeching. This had to be the client. Stretching my legs, I let my own door slam and walked toward the car with confidence.
“Hi there. You must be my two o’clock.” I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the sun. Felt my stomach plummet to the center of the earth when I saw pink hair. Fluorescent I-may-puke-a-little-in-my-mouth pink.
Cassandra got out of the vehicle, straightening up with a smile, the gesture promptly fading when she recognized me. “Oh. River, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was. Is.” It was hard to keep my tone light against the sudden wave of anxiety. “It’s nice to see you again.” Keep it prof
essional. I wondered if repeating it to myself would do any good.
The other woman eyed me from my boots to my neckline. Appraising me the same way I had her the first day we met. “You’re my real estate agent?” she asked.
“Only if you want me to be. Garth felt it would put you more at ease if you met with someone closer to your age. He wants you to have the best experience possible, so here I am.” I felt like a fool telling her this.
“How great.”
My hand fluttered between us. “Are we good here?” I needed to know.
I caught the moment of hesitation before she nodded. “Yeah, sure, it’s fine.”
Unsure of what to say, I gestured toward the door. “Do you want to go inside?”
She considered her options, and it threw me when she glanced back at the car, contemplating leaving. Did she hate me that much? “I do love this place. Tell me about the condo complex.”
I launched into my spiel, practiced over countless minutes spent in front of the mirror where the details filled in the blanks. Real estate ad lib. “The listing is a two bedroom, one bathroom unit overlooking the park. HOA fees are one-twenty a month and include—”
Cassandra listened to me rattle off the details while I tried desperately to open the lock box without fumbling. I’d forgotten the combination, blundered my way through remembering incorrectly—three times—then dropped the key.
“Sorry, one second.” My fingers refused to work and the key ring dinged against the concrete twice more before I caught it in a death grip.
After a good ten minutes of trying, we were finally inside the foyer when Cassandra broke her silence.
“I don’t want this to be awkward between us, and I know you feel it too.” She used her hands to accentuate the point. “I’m not the kind of girl who can let things stay weird. You know?”
“I understand, and I’m on board with you. One hundred percent.” I was speaking in percentages now? Face scrunched, I waved her issues back across the room.
“There’s no reason for us to not like each other,” she continued, with a sunny smile lighting her features. “I mean, we’re both there to help Finn.”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said in a tight voice. “Because you are going to love this bathtub with whirlpool jets. It’s a new addition the old owners had installed, and in my opinion, the selling feature.”
No way I wanted to talk about Finn with this woman. Not when I was still reeling from a breakup. Okay, it was either the breakup or the anxiety of being around someone who clearly didn’t like me, I couldn’t tell which. The hangover had long since faded.
“Yeah, and I want to see it,” she responded. “But I want to clear the air between us first. I feel like we didn’t start in a good place last week and I want us to be on the same page.”
Again with the hand gestures. Could the woman not speak without them?
No, I admonished myself, there will be no snarky insults.
Blowing a scoffing raspberry, I answered with, “Girl, please! We are definitely on the same page. I hardly remember the other day.” I leaned forward with my hands on my hips. “It was the hangover, trust me.”
“I tried to give you guys enough time to talk, I did.” She nodded repeatedly with an energy she couldn’t contain. “The air in the room was crazy when I got back and I felt like I was interrupting.”
She was searching for information I couldn’t give. “No! Unh-uh.” I blew a second raspberry, louder than the first, spit flying across the room from the expulsion. “It was nothing but a little chat. You know how Finn can be.”
“Yes, I know Finn. He’s a charmer.” Her grin degraded into a look that was merely doubtful.
“You know what else is a charmer? The newly rebuilt patio off the master suite.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Let’s head in there now.”
“What are you to Finn?” The question came out hard enough to make me wince. The sweet, innocent girl who “wanted us on the same page” vanished under a veneer of earnestness. This was a woman, interested in a man, who was done being vague.
Something I said must have displeased her.
I ignored her question at first, swinging an arm wide to encompass the kitchen. “As you can see, the countertops are brand new quartz. The cabinets could benefit from a fresh coat of paint, though they’re in overall good shape. This really is a great condo, and the HOA board are willing to compromise on exterior color, if you want to revamp someday.”
“I asked you what you are to Finn. Please answer me.”
When I turned, she was staring at me, with hard stones for eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean,” I replied. “I thought we were starting over on the same page?”
“We are, and I want to be real. It’s pretty clear you two have a connection. Tell me what it is and then we can tour the place.”
Cassandra continued to stare at me. We stared at each other, neither one of us willing to look away. She grinned at last, and it was not friendly; in it I saw white teeth and a combination of aversion and pity. My gut lurched and I glanced down at my shoes.
“Like I said, I don’t know what you mean. I’m there to help him with whatever he needs, the same way you are. Now, let’s go see the bathroom.”
She refused to budge. Her hands went up in front of her. “I’m sorry to be this forthright, but it’s not every day a girl comes across a man as handsome and interesting as Finny. Make up your mind about him, get down from your high horse of dating the mayor, and be honest. I want Finn. I’ll stake my claim now.”
I tried not to react, ignoring a muscle clenching in my jaw. “Go ahead and do whatever you want. I don’t want him.” Bing, bang, boom.
Her expression toed a fine line before catapulting into smugness. “Not how it looks to me.”
“Your five minutes alone with us in the same room gave you insider knowledge on me?” I exclaimed. “You can think whatever you want. I’ll tell you right now, you go on and take him. I’m dealing with a breakup and the last thing I need is a woman who thinks I’m competition when I’m not.”
I forced a laugh, turning my attention to a bowl of fruit on the dining room table. A staging effort meant to help sell the place. “I have no interest in Finn, and if you had a decent head on your shoulders, you wouldn’t either.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Her outrage hit me the instant I popped a grape in my mouth and realized it was fake. The plastic obtrusion lodged at the back of my throat, cutting off my air supply. Slapping my chest, I fought to draw air into my lungs while dislodging the grape.
“Are you seriously choking on a decoration?” Cassandra crossed the living room to slap my back amidst the hacking coughs.
The grape flew from my windpipe and plopped on the floor. “It looked real,” I wheezed. It looked real and I did not want to blow this condo sale with Cassie, not when her statement of laying claim to Finn had red creeping along the edges of my vision.
“Stop trying to take the attention away from the conversation. You’re interested in Finn and you don’t want to admit it.” She shook her head, fingers pointed and ready to whittle a hole through my sternum. “It’s pathetic.”
I fiddled with my blouse to take attention away from my near death by fake grape. “If you want him, I’m not going to stop you.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?” Cassie demanded.
“Because this is awkward!” My bra strap snapped against my shoulder, a reminder to stay in the moment. I am strong…
“Honestly, you’re his physical therapist,” I continued. “I’m only the one who got him started on the right path. Nothing more. Please, I want to show you this place. No more talking about Finn.”
Her hands flew to her diminutive hips. “You’re not going to get a pat on the back from me again. You did a good thing for a deserving person. That’s it. Get over yourself.”
Get over myself? It was almost as bad as the get out from Finn, and had her desired effect. �
�I don’t expect anything from anyone. I’m trying to make a sale and get you into the home of your dreams.” Stalking around the kitchen, I fiddled with my shirt and tried not to say the things I wanted to say. Namely, who the hell are you and why does my friendship with Finn matter to you so much?
I could understand having an interest in someone, but biting off a perceived rival’s head? No. I rounded on her then. “I don’t appreciate you trying to make like we’re friends and then turning on me. It’s not right and it shows a real lack of respect.”
“If you want Finn, then at least tell me,” Cassandra shot back. There was fight in her tiny body. “Stop pretending you’re so much better than him. I know interest when I see it, and if you weren’t interested, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“I don’t want him,” I said, emphasizing each word. “I don’t know how many times I must tell you.”
“I’ll believe it when you do,” Cassandra retorted. “Because honestly, this show you’re putting on? I see right through it.”
I felt like I was back in fourth grade, my friend Marie and I fighting over Bobby Dunlap and both screeching out a vow to have him. It hadn’t ended well for either of us, and I believe Bobby now had a wonderful husband named Phil.
“I’m going through a breakup right now, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I don’t think you’re too upset about it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here fighting a useless argument over a man you claim to feel nothing for.”
“This isn’t an argument!” It was a one-sided massacre. “It’s a disagreement. I want to show you the condo and I…I don’t know. I refuse to have a girl-fight over a man I don’t want!”
Her eyes rolled into her head and she spun on her heel, striding toward the door. Then turned and walked back toward me. “Whatever you want to call it. And dammit, woman, stop fussin’ with your blouse!”
I snapped to attention at her explosion. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only thing to snap. My bra strap chose right then to break in two pieces, and my left breast, the traitorous demon, burst free in a single sly movement.
Holy mortification, Batman.
