Chapter Thirty-Four - Finn
Chapter Thirty-Four
FINN
“WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?” Wide green eyes stare as I fall into the chair across from her. “Babe, I have to call you back,” she says into the phone hanging up without waiting for a response. “Finn, are you okay? Do you need ice?”
“I’m fine, Nin,” I say, mustering my best smile.
“You get mugged or something?” Nina walks around her desk and grips my chin like a mother inspecting her child. I cringe when her fingers lightly graze over the bruise that extends from my jaw into my left cheek.
“Or something.”
“Damnit, Finn. We have a meeting with your board tomorrow!”
“I know that, Davina.”
“You can’t walk in there like that. Find a way to cover it up because we can’t push this meeting. Not when we have the fundraiser in a week.” The way she looks at me is disheartening. I feel like I’m sitting across from Mom when I told her I dropped out of college, again. Nina is disappointed, rightfully so. Probably feeling a little letdown. I told her shit like this wouldn’t happen, I promised, and here I am, showing up the day before a meeting with a bruised face. This was supposed to be my fresh start, and from where she’s sitting, it’s just more of the same ole Sheffield bullshit. “What the fuck happened?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t discuss it, right now.”
Nina lifts herself onto the desk and rubs her temples, mumbling something I can’t quite make out in Italian. I hate when she does that. “You’re lucky I don’t have time for this shit today.”
“What do you have time for, then?” I smirk, but her death glare is enough to shut up.
“You are ready, right?”
“Yes. Everything is done. You don’t have to worry.”
“Are you sure you’re ready to handle this, Finn? Are you sure you can handle this? This isn’t something you can toss aside when you get bored. This isn’t Rosecliffe or the paper or Amanda. This is real…”
“I know.”
“…This is my company, and I’ve stuck my neck out to ensure you got a fair chance here.”
“And, I appreciate it. Truly, Davina. You’ve given me more than you know by helping me.”
“What if they decide they don’t like something you’re doing?” My stomach sinks. “Are you ready to face them? To stand up for yourself and your decisions. Are you truly ready to be a business owner?”
No.
“Yes, of course.” I can only hope she half believes me. I’ve never considered it like that, but the board members must like what we’re doing, or they wouldn’t have agreed to join. Regardless, I know she’s right. I have to be ready for anything, including pushback from the board. I have no choice but to continue to win them over and ensure they approve the goals we want to achieve within the next year. “I’ll always respect whatever decision the board makes. However, I don’t see how they could turn this down. I mean, it’s for the kids, right?”
“You don’t know the board,” she smirks and steps down from the desk. “Oh, how has Michaela been?”
“She’s been…”
Wait, what? Surely, she doesn’t know.
“I don’t know; I haven’t seen her since Coney Island.”
“I have eyes all over this city, Finnley.” That fucking smirk is back. Like she knows something I don’t. She sits back in her chair and fiddles with her pen. “You know, I was happy to see that you guys had put whatever issues you had aside and decided to make the most of it.”
“Well, we agreed to keep things strictly business for the good of the project.”
Nina stares at me, chewing on her bottom lip like she’s deciding whether or not to say what’s on her mind. Finally, she sighs and lets the real question go. “Well, let’s go. We need to meet Sasha downstairs and I want to see what you have for tomorrow before you leave.”
I flip through my presentation slides, trying to concentrate on the words instead of the ache in my jaw. I’m waiting for the damn peas to refreeze so I can use them again. Tomorrow has to go well. I can’t risk letting Nina down, instead of focusing on the presentation, my mind wanders to a condo seven miles away on the Upper East Side. I shouldn’t be surprised I haven’t heard from her. Part of me hoped I would have heard something by now, at least let me know how things went with Josh. I’m more worried for him than I am for her. I firmly believe she’s capable of murder. The question is, would she call me to help bury the body? Probably not. She’d probably call Caitlin — I would, too.
Should I call her? I should check on her or at least text to make sure she’s okay. Picking up my phone, my heart jumps at the new text notification. It falls just as fast when I see the name next to it: Oliver.
I roll my eyes and toss my phone on the table. What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve successfully started the company. I’ve done everything he wanted. What else does he want? There’s a lot I want to say back to him, but best to leave it. I consider calling her. Hell, I consider calling Josh. I need to apologize to both of them, but part of me thinks it might be best to give them both some time.
What the hell was that? I rub my eyes, scanning the room; the alarm clock reads 2:47 A.M. Was that a knock? After a minute, I settle back into bed. Then, I hear it again. A knock on the door — who in the hell let someone up here at three in the morning? I’ve got to talk to Paul about letting people up here.
I swing the door open, ready to give whoever it is a piece of my mind, but every ounce of annoyance dissipates. Michaela stands with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Dressed in her pajamas, hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail on top of her head, face makeup-free, and black-rimmed glasses sit on the edge of her nose. She won’t look at me, eyes glued to the floor. Lifting her chin, my heart breaks at her eyes brimming with tears. I don’t hesitate to pull her in my arms. Guilt gnaws at my insides. I’m part of the reason we’re in this mess.
“I’m sorry for just showing up,” she whispers. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Don’t apologize. I told you, you’re welcome anytime. You could’ve let yourself in, y’know.” I kiss the top of her head and a small amount of relief floods my senses inhaling the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo.
“Finn, we need to talk.”
“Michaela, it’s three in the morning… Let’s get some sleep and—”
“No, I need to get this off my chest. I just need you to listen. Okay?”
“Okay,” I sigh and press a kiss on her forehead. “Let me make some coffee.”
Michaela sits on the couch staring out over the city lights waiting for the coffee to brew. Her mind somewhere else barely registers the mug I extend to her and jumps slightly when I touch her shoulder. She takes it with a mumbled apology. I leave a little space between us when I finally sit down. I can’t remember the last time I was this anxious to get a conversation over with.
“Finn, I know what happened was my fault. I should’ve been honest and told everyone about the divorce from the start. It was irresponsible and childish to keep that from them. I know that. I knew that, but I thought I could fix it. Make it all go away. Then, they’d never have to know about it.” Michaela stares down into the dark liquid keeping a death grip on the mug handle. “I thought it was just a phase. Something we’d get past and everything would be fine again. But, I think, all along, I knew it wasn’t.” She sighs gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “And then you came along and messed everything up some more."
I try to hide the small smile that tugs on my lips.
“What happened this morning was exactly what I was afraid of. I knew Josh would be upset, He cares about us both, and I knew he’d need time to adjust. I didn’t think it would happen like this. Selfishly, I wanted more time. More time to tell them about David, more time to get my life back together, more time to figure out what this is… You didn’t deserve what happened. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that it happened.”
“This isn’t your fault, Michaela. You’re right. You should’ve been honest, but this isn’t all on you. I’m at fault, too. What happened this morning was going to happen regardless of when Josh found out. You think your brother was going to be okay with there being an us?”
“Is there still an us? Because—”
“If the past two weeks have done anything, they’ve only solidified that I want this.” Taking her mug, I place it on the coffee table and take her hands in mine. “I haven’t felt this comfortable around someone in a long time; ever, maybe. You scare the shit out of me, more than your brother ever could.”
A smile tugs at her lips. “We’re a mess.”
“We’re going to get through this, I promise.” I pull her mouth to mine in a soft, chaste kiss. “Might not be the easiest, but we’ll figure it out.”
“What did Nina say when she saw your face?” Her fingers lightly trace the bruise on my jaw.
“It’s Nina, she doesn’t ask too many questions.”
“She probably already knew,” Michaela laughs. “I swear, that woman knows things before they happen.”
“That’s her job.” I kiss her forehead and settle back into the couch. She doesn’t waste any time when I open my arms for her to join me. “She did mention I need to make sure I cover up my face for our meeting tomorrow, though.”
“Need some concealer,” she yawns.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure I have some lying around here somewhere.”
She smacks my stomach playfully. “You can use mine,” another yawn, “my makeup is still here.”
“I was wondering what that shit all over my counter was.”
“It’s the real reason I came back.” Michaela beams a tired smile at me, and I roll my eyes.
“Get some sleep, Shortcake.”