Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
FINN
“ H ey, mother.” I tap the phone on speaker while I iron my trousers.
“Darling, what’s going on over there?” Mum’s tone sounds somewhat concerned.
“What do you mean?”
“The papers, darling. You made the headlines. Again.” She sighs. “It says ‘Chancellor’s Son Shells Out 10k on Kissing Auction’.”
“You’re kidding? Wh?—”
“There’s more. ‘While the rest of Britain suffer the rising taxes and cost-of-living crisis, it’s a world away from our chancellor, Ms. Jones, and her family as they fritter away taxpayers’ money on lavish overseas holidays, luxury yachts, and kissing auctions.’”
“The boat was a gift, and it’s a sailing boat. I’d hardly call it a luxury yacht.”
“Forget the boat. Do you know how embarrassing this is for me? I’m trying to do my best here and win the public’s trust after the last party left us in the bloody shit. I can’t do that, Finn, if you’re going to land yourself in the press every five bloody minutes.”
“Mum, I?—”
“Please tell me you didn’t spend ten thousand pounds on a kissing auction?”
“It was dollars and?—”
“I sent you to Magnolia Point to work for your father and keep you out of the media, but this has to be the worst stunt you’ve pulled to date. What were you thinking?”
“If you let me?—”
“Does your father know you’re running a riot, spending your trust fund on girls?”
“Mum. Listen.” I place the iron down in its holster. Steam bellows from the bottom and I rub my forehead. “I’m not spending it on girls. It was a charity auction. The money goes into a conservation effort to save sea life and clean up beaches. It’s a noble cause and the girl who runs?—”
“Ah. I knew there would be a girl involved somewhere.”
“It’s not like that. She’s the organiser. She’s intelligent, hardworking, passionate about the cause?—”
“Charming, conniving.”
“She’s nothing of the sort.”
“She swindled you out of ten thousand pounds.”
“Dollars.” I switch off the iron and drop onto the bed, lifting the phone to my ear and taking Mum off speaker. “You’d actually really like her, Mum. If you want me to type out a statement for the press, I will. But you need to tell them to get their facts straight.”
“All right. Send me the details of the charity and I’ll put a positive spin on this. For once, we can actually use one of your blunders to our advantage. ”
“Is that all? I have to go.”
“Yes, darling. Before you go, how was the party?”
“It was okay. You know what Dad’s like. He used it as a networking opportunity. Had me sucking up to the town’s dentists all week as we’re a similar age.” I huff. “Although you wouldn’t think so if you met them. It’s like babysitting a bunch of tweens.”
“Is he after a new set of dentures?” Mum bursts into a laugh. It’s rare she laughs these days with all the stress of her new role.
I laugh along with her. “The dentist’s uncle is on the town’s planning committee.”
“Ah, got it. Okay, I’ll let you go. Are you up to anything nice?”
“I’m taking a girl out on a date. The one I bid on in the kissing auction.”
“You need to be careful. Make sure she isn’t just dating you for your money, son. The auction might have been for charity, but lavish spends like that attract the wrong sort of girl.”
“She’s not like that, believe me. She’d sooner lead a march than go to a party.”
“Maybe I would like her after all.”
“And she hates me. If it wasn’t for bidding so much money in the auction, I doubt she’d have agreed to this date.”
“So, you really like this girl?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“Then let her see the real you. I’ll call in a few days with an update on the papers. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you keep getting dragged into the politics of this country. I know you didn’t choose any of it.”
“Don’t worry, Mum. I know it’s important to you. You can make it up to me when you’re the Prime Minister.” I chuckle as I think about dancing around Number Ten Downing Street with my mother running the country.
“Wouldn’t that be something? Finally, I’d be able to give some of these backstabbing bastards the boot.” She laughs. “One day, my darling. Text me how your date goes. Love you.”
“Love you, Mum.” Cancelling the call, I check the time and jump off the bed, needing to dress. I don’t want to be late or give Shelly anything to moan about. This date’s going to be perfect. After researching the best vegan restaurant in the area and borrowing Dad’s two-seater sports car, I’m all set.
Should I get her flowers? After the date, I can have some delivered to her. Or tomorrow. I honestly don’t know what’s got into me. I never put this much effort into a date. Usually I don’t have to, but Shelly’s different. She’s not falling at my feet like the usual gold diggers my mum was referring to.
Once ready, I grab the car keys and step out of the resort with a swing in my step, but a knot tugging in my stomach. With the roof down on Dad’s convertible, I slide in, creaking the cream leather.
The engine purrs when I press the button. After typing in the address she gave me into the built in satnav, I click my seatbelt into place and reverse out of the parking bay. Driving to the end of the resort, I tap my thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the country music playing through the speaker.
As the GPS on the car directs me down a dirt road, my heart plummets to my stomach, thinking she’s gave me a fake address.
“You have arrived at your destination.” Are the words coming from screen, but all that’s in front of me is a huge welcome sign for a campsite .
With a heavy heart, I’m about to call her when I hear her voice behind me.
“Is that a flex?”
My head spins around toward her voice as a smile to spreads across my face.
She’s a vision in white linen trousers. A light-blue paisley patterned kimono-type cover-up hangs over a white cami. She moves her perfectly curled hair over her shoulder and bites on her pink glossy lip.
Seeing her all dressed up, I forget to open the car door as planned. Before I can even try, she’s already there, opening the passenger side door. She slides into the seat next to me. The centre console is the only thing between us, and I resist the urge to lean over and kiss those luscious lips.
There’s no denying she looked good at my party in the crochet dress she wore. This boho style she has going on always looks good on her, but today, there’s something about having her in my car that makes her irresistible because tonight she’s all mine. Even if I have technically bribed her to get here.
“You colour co-ordinated after all.” I put the car into reverse and back out of the campsite entrance.
She side-eyes me as she clicks on her seatbelt.
“What, no quick comeback?” I chuckle as I start the engine. “Cat got your tongue?”
“How long must I endure this date and where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise. I thought we could eat and then take you back to my place.”
I glance her way, taking my eyes off the winding road for a second. She raises an eyebrow.
“I have something I’d like to show you.” Focusing on the road, I remind myself to stay calm and just be myself, like my mother said. If I’m going to be myself around her, then I should show her what my passions are too.
“I already told you, I’m not that type of girl.”
“No. I didn’t mean—” In the corner of my eye, I catch her smiling. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself. An improvement from the penguin suit you had on the other night.”
“I thought you liked all sea life?”
“Penguins are birds, dumbass.”
With a smile, I take the turn out of Magnolia Point and drive across the May River towards the next town.
“Where are we going?” She twists her hands together in her lap, her foot tapping against the footwell.
“You’ll see. Relax” I want to place my hand on her thigh to calm her nerves, but I’m probably just as nervous as she is. I grip the steering wheel, my hands sweating against the leather.
The wind cools me down as I pick up speed on the open road. Shelly’s hair blows in the wind, ruining her perfectly styled curls, but the windswept beach hair that I’m used to looks good on her.
“If I’d known you were going to flex in this convertible, I wouldn’t have bothered doing my hair.” She glances my way with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. I know she doesn’t really care about her hair, as she makes no attempt to hold it down and lets it blow freely like the free spirit she is, and I admire that about her. Envy it almost.
People assume I have freedom due to wealth, but my parents have always controlled my life. Dictating my education. Deciding who I should hang out with. The only freedom I had was taking a gap year to study art in Europe .
“I thought you’d like the car.”
“Am I meant to be impressed?”
“What do you drive?”
“A bicycle.” She giggles, making me laugh along with her. “I have a VW camper, but as it’s where I live, it’s a lot of hassle to pack stuff away just to drive somewhere.”
“You live in a camper?” I glance her way to check her features. I can’t tell if she’s having me on or not, but knowing her, this doesn’t surprise me one bit, and makes sense why I picked her up from the campsite.
“Yes. It’s an old camper, but with the awning up, there’s plenty of room.”
“What about a shower and toilet?” My brows pinch together, wondering how she lives on a campsite. “How do you wash your clothes? Do you even have electric?”
“I have a twelve-volt hookup.” She giggles again. “Finn, have you ever camped before?”
“Yes, I did Glastonbury every year, but only for a few nights. I couldn’t live like that.”
“There’s a washroom on site where you can wash all your pots and there’s a laundrette. Even has an iron and trouser press. You’d be impressed.”
“I doubt it.” I huff under my breath as I make a turn off the main road. The country lane leads to a resort on the coast with the best vegan restaurant around.
“Where are we going?” Her spine straightens. She clutches her purse, fiddling with the shells on the crochet material.
We pass a sign for Oceanfront Oasis and Spa Resort. My dad worked on the development years ago.
“Finn, turn the car around.”
I glance sideways. She’s as white as a sheet, clutching her purse with white knuckles. I pull off to the side of the road on a grassy verge. The hotel stands proudly on the clifftop, the restaurant just up ahead, but I fear she won’t make it that far without throwing up. “Are you travel sick?”
Unclipping my seatbelt, I lean over the console. “What’s wrong? Is my company that bad?” I chuckle, trying to make a joke, but when she turns to me, tears well in her eyes.
“Why would you bring me here, Finn?”
“You might feel better once we’re in the restaurant. I’ll get you some water.”
“Is this a joke?” Her body tense, she shakes her head. “Please take me home.” Her voice pleads with me. The fierce sassy woman I’m used to is gone, leaving an empty shell of vulnerability.
“All right.” I swipe a tear from her cheek.
She cowers away with a tremble of her lip.
My heart stutters. All I want to do is pull her onto my lap and take away whatever’s wrong. Instead, I do the only thing possible: click my seatbelt and turn the car around.