Chapter Eighteen - Finn
Chapter Eighteen
FINN
“SO, HOW WAS MY sister?” My stomach drops at the question, and I look up expecting to see Josh locked and loaded, but he casually leans back in his chair. His face is neutral, unreadable… Shit, does he know? There’s no way he knows. Michaela wouldn’t tell him, but she might tell Elizabeth. I’m so screwed. Guess I found the reason he wanted me to come over.
“W-what do you mean?”
“On Sheffield House,” he chuckles. “You were practically ready to throw in the towel when Nina told you Mic was taking over.”
“Oh,” a breath of relief. “Yeah, she was fine, I guess. Annoying as ever, but I didn’t expect any less. She did have the idea for Coney Island, so I guess, something good did come out of it.”
“Careful, someone might think you’re starting to like her or something.”
Suddenly it feels a little warmer in here. I wipe my palms on the thighs of my jeans and adjust in my seat. “She was helpful. What else do you want me to say?”
“Relax, man, I’m just making sure she didn’t screw around.”
Is he fucking with me?
“I know how important this is for you.”
“Did you only invite me over to interrogate me about your little sister?”
“Hey, I have the inside scoop at my disposal, why not take advantage of it?” Josh smirks. He has always been an informed big brother. Always kept an eye on his kid sister. Always let her hang around even if the rest of us didn’t want her there. In some ways, I understood, it was better than her getting involved in the wrong crowd, but hell, if it wasn’t a downer when we had this little kid getting in the way of our teenage fun. If Michaela was around, we had to be on our best behavior, or at least pretend to be — there are plenty of times we did things when Josh looked the other way. Eventually, we all got used to her being there. The others saw her as one of our own, adopting her as their little sister, but not me. She and I were always at odds with one another, constantly bickering, picking fights, and talking shit to each other. I know it got on everyone’s nerves, but we couldn’t help ourselves. It kept us entertained.
“You have an inside scoop with Nina, too.”
“Are you kidding? Nina doesn’t tell me shit. Girl code and all that.”
“She’s ratted Michaela out a time or two.”
“Sure, but only when it’s really bad. Besides, Mic usually tells on herself anyway. You know she can’t keep a secret.”
“No shit.” I roll my eyes. If anyone knows that I do — Michaela is why I spent my Junior year of high school at a boarding school in Tennessee. Not that it did any good; if anything, it did the opposite of what my parents hoped. What do you expect when you let teenagers live with very little adult supervision? “That little shit has never been able to keep her mouth shut.”
In more ways than one. The sounds of her moans echo in my mind and my pants feel a little tighter. Shit, not now, Sheffield. Do not think about fucking your best friend’s little sister with him right in front of you.
“The way you guys hate still each other blows my mind,” Josh laughs. “You’d think you were the brother instead of me.”
“Dude, don’t say that.”
“I’m serious!”
God, Josh. Just stop talking.
“Where’s Ellie?” I ask attempting to change the subject. I’ve been here most of the morning and have yet to see Elizabeth once. Normally, she would have been here to greet me with a hot breakfast and coffee. Even if she had a shoot, she’d always stick around to greet you before leaving.
“Oh, I think she had a meeting down in Charleston.”
“What does that mean — you think?”
Josh shrugs but doesn’t meet my curious stare, finding his phone much more interesting. “She’s been down there a lot recently — lots of shoots for some family or something. She should be home any time now.”
“Josh, why in the hell is our— Oh, Finn!” Elizabeth walks into the kitchen from the mudroom looking like a kid caught sneaking in past curfew. “Sorry Josh, I didn’t know you had company. Finn, what are you doing here?”
“It’s Oliver’s birthday,” Josh says flatly. Normally, he would cross the kitchen to scoop his wife in his arms and plant a fat kiss on her lips, but he stays on the other side of the kitchen island. Elizabeth looks around before setting her purse in the empty place next to me, but she doesn’t completely let go. She seems stiff and uncomfortable, a stranger in her own home. “I told you he was coming over this weekend,” Josh says fiddling with the cap of his water bottle.
Elizabeth turns to me, “That’s right, I’m so sorry. My weeks are starting to blur together more than I realized. How is Oliver?”
“Oh, you know… Oliver,” I say.
She huffs a small laugh, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Will you make it on Sunday?”
“Sunday?” She seems genuinely confused.
“The Coney Island event for the thing he’s been working on,” Josh says with a little more annoyance than necessary.
“Shit,” Elizabeth sighs, her shoulders falling. “Finn, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll make it. I have to be in Asheville for a shoot tomorrow and then Charleston on Monday for—”
“Don’t forget our appointment on Monday.”
Elizabeth finally meets his stare. A silent conversation before Elizabeth sighs and turns back to me. “I’m sorry, Finn. Things are just extra crazy right now.”
“No sweat, Ellie.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze. “As long as you make it to the big party next month. You gotta take a break and celebrate occasionally.”
Another sad smile. “I promise.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I swear I hear Josh mumble.
“Well, I have to go pick up the dry cleaning, I need one of the shirts for tomorrow.” Elizabeth squeezes my arm gently before grabbing her purse. She leaves without another word and doesn’t even kiss Josh. And it leaves me feeling… lost. What in the hell did I just witness?
“Dude, what was that?”
“What?” He turns from the fridge with two beers.
“ That . What in the hell was that? She didn’t even tell you goodbye. Elizabeth never leaves without telling someone goodbye, let alone her own husband. She didn’t even kiss you!”
Josh shrugs, “Sure, she did.”
“Josh—”
“Finn, just drop it. Okay?” The glare he shoots me is enough for me to end the conversation, for now.
I’m happy to accept the glass of whiskey Uncle Jack hands over after my day with Josh. Honestly, I was relieved to get back to pretending to be a happy family. That’s something I never thought I’d say. Usually, I’m chomping at the bit to get away from my parents, but today I was glad to get back to some sense of normalcy. Tonight was the big birthday bash for all of Dad’s closest friends, if you can call them that. The backyard had been transformed into a 1920s speakeasy including a makeshift entryway that required a code word to enter. I had to hand it to my mom, she and the party planner outdid themselves.
Dad takes his glass plopping into one of the brown leather chairs of the men’s club across from me. His smile tells me I’m not going to like where this is going. When I was younger, I used to dream of what it would be like to join my father and Uncle Jack in the club. I wanted to be part of the secrets behind that giant mahogany door that concealed this room from the rest of the world. I was never allowed inside and that made it feel sacred…special. Until I found myself on the other side of the door on my sixteenth birthday. I learned this was nothing more than an over-glorified cigar and whiskey room where Dad would bring his friends to discuss business and talk shit. I wish I could tell my younger self not to romanticize it so much. Maybe I could have saved myself some of the disappointment that came with being accepted into the “club.”
“So, Finn, how’s your little project going?” Dad taunts.
I share an annoyed glance with Uncle Jack. Of course, Dad would bring this up now in front of the others. We’re joined by three of his business associates — Jake Carpenter, finance guru; Alex Black, vice president of the local bank chain; and Cooper Lewis, owner of a sports team (baseball, I think) and my father’s former business partner. All successful businessmen who know me as nothing more than Oliver Sheffield’s failure of a son. Every venture I’ve ever attempted has failed, and I’m sure they all expect this one to be no different. That’s why I went to the best of the best for help on this one…
“It’s fine."
“Not as easy as it looks, hmm? Your mother says Davina isn’t even the one helping you, some assistant is.”
“Nina has been a little busy. She is—”
“You mean, she knows it’s not worth her time.” He smirks lighting a cigar. “You could always wave the white flag. No one would judge, we all understand how hard it can be.” He and his friends share a laugh, but Uncle Jack just rolls his eyes.
“Isn’t that enough business talk, fellas?” Uncle Jack interrupts before I can say something I might regret. Fighting with Dad isn’t going to do me any good, it’s only going to make things worse. And I can’t afford to make things worse.
“Relax, Finnley,” Dad takes a long drag of his cigar. “I’m just interested in what you’re doing, that’s all.”
“That’d be a first,” I mumble and down the amber liquid in my glass.
“So go ahead, give us your best sales pitch.”