33. Finn
thirty-three
Finn
T he last two weeks have been a complete whirlwind while simultaneously the best fourteen days of my entire life. The extra planning meetings and coordinating with vendors didn’t even feel cumbersome because firstly, I’m used to hard work, and secondly, the entire town kept pitching in.
The Wilks Beach Garden Society insisted on making all the floral arrangements for the event, refusing to take payment.
Similarly, Jeremy, the single dad who bakes all the goodies for Seabreeze Beans assembled a team of grandmothers to help him create delectable mini cakes and tarts for guests.
Maxwell insisted that his cousin, who moonlights as a DJ, also help because “No one wants to listen to chamber music for two hours straight, even if they play Ariana Grande’s ‘Thank You, Next.’”
I’ve seen Cordelia’s mother organize fundraisers for various charities, but her involvement had been signing a check and overseeing the planner who was doing all the real work.
This event will not be as lavish as any of those fundraisers, but I think the floral-outline dance cards that Trudy had the storytime children color are far more meaningful than lush cardstock from a professional printer.
Though the planning for the fundraiser has been largely smooth-going, the best part of the past fortnight—as a Regency fellow would say—was time spent with Vivian.
The day after our date, I sent an obscenely large bouquet to her shop.
Since Vivian’s Alterations was open Sunday afternoon for appointments, half of the town gawked at the opulence.
Then I scoured the internet for original Raven Sacaria vinyls and surprised Vivian with a turntable for her shop.
My heart had nearly stopped when she’d gripped me by the shoulders and leveled me with a resolved stare.
“These gifts are wonderful, and I’m grateful for them, but being with you is what matters to me.
I’d rather have a purloined hydrangea bloom and the memory of us laughing like hyenas as we flee the scene, or snuggle with you on the couch as we listen to Raven’s musical genius out of my phone’s tinny speaker than something flashy. ”
I’d never seen an example of true love in real life, only read about it. It hadn’t occurred to me until Vivian said something that expressing love is more than the stuff of fiction—large purchases and showy proclamations. At its center, it’s the tender, everyday moments shared between two souls.
That simple conversation shifted my perspective.
After that, I made sure we knocked everything off Vivian’s question list, from long beach walks to reading on my deck.
We even binged the first season of Worthington in preparation for tonight.
I’d also brought her to the library after hours to view the town’s archives.
Since Vivian didn’t think my near panic attack the second time we attempted swimming lessons by wading into the bay water was off-putting, I hoped she wouldn’t mind my fascination with rare books.
At Vivian’s complete and utter acceptance of who I am, I realized there is only one course of action left.
My pulse thrums against the fabric wrapped around my neck as I walk the short distance to Vivian’s apartment.
Fortunately, tonight is unseasonably cool, since we’re all dressed from chin to toe in layers.
To distract myself from my rambunctious nerves, I revel in the memory of Vivian’s reaction to my final fitting in her shop.
My smirk deepens, remembering how she’d drawn her heavy curtains and then kissed me to within an inch of my life.
Hopefully, there’ll be a continuation of that tonight, but only after I tell her who I really am.
I can’t wait a day more.
The plan had been to reveal everything after I knew about my promotion to library director, but I love Vivian too much. She should know all the variables that go along with being with me. If she finds out my true identity and decides not to continue our relationship, I’ll understand.
I’ll be decimated, but I won’t blame her.
My phone rings in my pocket, and I answer it without looking at the contact, assuming it’s another last-minute emergency call from one of my staff.
“ Finn. ” My name is slurred, and loud bar music echoes in the background. “I need some help tonight. There’s this leggy redhead that won’t give me the time of day, but if you were—”
“I told you I have a work event tonight.” I also told Alec that was the reason I couldn’t go out these last two weeks. I’d mentioned that tonight was important for my career advancement, though without any of the behind-the-scenes details.
“All you ever do is work.” He sounds like a petulant child.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “That’s what adults do, Alec.”
“I liked you more when you were fun.”
Yeah, well, I didn’t like me.
The thought resonates like a bomb blast, my ears ringing in the aftermath.
I’d been living an inauthentic life when I’d been working in Virginia Beach.
Professionally, I was making strides in the field I’d chosen, but every other facet of my life had been incomplete.
I’d assumed that was due to my father’s contract stipulations and that I’d needed to conceal so much, but really, I was choosing not to be me.
Living in Wilks Beach, being encouraged by Vivian to open up, showed me how small my life had been until now.
For the first time, I feel like I don’t have to hide. I honestly believe that when I tell Vivian all my secrets, everything will be okay. And even if it isn’t, at least I won’t be living a lie.
The weight falling from my shoulders brings a relieved inhale into my lungs.
“I can’t do this anymore. I thought I was being a friend, but…”
It isn’t until this moment that I realize living in this tiny town has taught me more about friendship than anything from my upbringing or the professional networking I’d done since. Sorrow drops in my chest that I’m nearly thirty and finally learning what having true friendship means.
“I’ve only been enabling you, and I can’t do that anymore. You need help.” A thought occurs to me. “I’ve met a man here who got sober. I’ll ask him about some resources to send you, but I can’t be your wingman anymore.”
The tirade I receive in response is so loud and venomous I pull the phone away from my ear. I’d expected bargaining, more whining, not a fury of expletives coming through the line.
“You can forget you ever knew me. I’m blocking your number,” Alex finishes before the line goes dead.
I close my eyes with a steadying breath, making a mental note to talk to Noah and send resources to Alec’s email later. I don’t want anything bad to happen to my former roommate, but I finally understand that I deserve healthy relationships in my life.
When Brynn answers the apartment door in running shorts and a faded high school track shirt, my eyebrows raise. “You’re not coming?”
“Someone has to take pictures.” She raises her phone.
Before I can argue that she could easily do both, Vivian appears at the top of the stairs.
To say my soul leaves my body is a grave understatement.
All the lyrical lines in all the novels of the world could never compare to how breathtaking Vivian is in this moment.
Her Regency gown matches the exact shade of my tailcoat, but a subtle sheen makes the fabric almost liquid as she descends the stairs.
The dress’s bodice is adorned with delicate beadwork that must have taken Vivian hours, and the lace cap sleeves ending in elbow gloves make my fingers itch to touch them.
Costume jewelry adorns her freckled collarbones as well as accents her elaborate updo.
“I— You—” I chuckle and palm the back of my head. “I was going to compliment you with Regency words, but I can’t think of a single one.”
Vivian arrives beside us, her smile just this side of wicked. “For someone who loves books, that’s quite a compliment in itself.”
I almost swallow my tongue. There is nothing sexier than a confident Vivian. When my feet move forward unconsciously, Brynn clears her throat.
“Why don’t you both stand on the stairs for pictures?”
The tension in my body loosens as Vivian goofily insists we do classic prom photos after her sister takes a few nice ones.
By the time we’re done, everyone is cracking up.
I help Vivian step out of the door before Brynn catches my arm.
Vivian gives her sister a small grin, lifting her skirts and walking away to give us some privacy.
“I wanted to apologize for how we got on in the beginning. I can see now that I was wrong about you.”
Years of practice at schooling my facial expression comes to my advantage as I nod instead of displaying my shock. Hadn’t Noah said that Brynn never apologizes?
“Thank you.”
She slides her shoulders back with a nod of her own. “Have fun tonight.”
When we arrive, the library is like I’ve never seen it, and I’d left it largely decorated only an hour ago to get dressed.
With all the finishing touches, like the battery-operated candles atop nearly every surface, the high school chamber orchestra setting up as the DJ plays classical covers of popular songs, and the rest of the town in Regency finery, it’s a perfect culmination of weeks of diligent work.
“This is incredible,” Vivian breathes as we enter the central area after picking up her dance card.
“Thank you. I want to give the other librarians congratulations. Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She wraps her gloved fingers around my arm, encouraging me to lead the way.
“Vivian, hi!” We’re waylaid by Cade, the town masseuse, and her boyfriend, William, who’s a doctor I think?
I’ve actually never seen him in person before.
“I wanted to say thank you again for the custom dress.” Cade pulls out the skirts of her bubble-gum pink dress that matches the color of her bob hairstyle.
“I thought you didn’t have time for custom dresses?” I ask.
“It’s not technically custom. I just dyed it for her.” Vivian grins. “It looks great, especially with the purple accents.”
“Thank you.” Cade fluffs the oversized purple ostrich feathers in her hair and tugs at her purple wrist gloves.
I offer my hand to William, formally introducing myself while Cade stage-whispers with an eyebrow bounce, “Carpe diem? More like carpe date-him.”
It takes us a few moments to make the rounds, finally thanking and chatting with my staff at the refreshment table loaded with tiny, personal-sized treats and plastic wine glasses filled with lemonade.
Once the orchestra completes its final tuning, the DJ cuts the music.
I set down my glass and extend my palm to Vivian with a slight bow.
“I believe I have this dance.”
I wanted to write my name in all the slots on her dance card but knew that Regency romance-loving Vivian would understand the significance of claiming her first waltz.
Vivian accepts my hand with a teasing grin. “So you do. I trust you will prove a most accomplished partner.”
I lean close, dropping the formal speech as my lips brush the shell of her ear. “You have no idea, gorgeous.”
Pleased with the scarlet staining her cheeks, I lead Vivian to the dance floor as many of the couples we’ve seen at Margot’s lessons join us.
As the lilting music surrounds us and we gracefully glide into the first steps of the dance, I’m confident that the rest of the night will go just as smoothly.