FIVE
Finn
Seeing Maeve in our living room quite literally knocks the air out of my lungs. She’s with her sister, who is shooting daggers at me. If looks could kill … But I can’t look away from Maeve in that dress. The skirt is black, but the top is the exact color of her skin, with black lace flowers creeping upward from the skirt. Everything is covered, but it also looks like she’s wearing almost nothing.
Suddenly a hand is on my shoulder, although I barely register it. Maeve still hasn’t noticed me, and her sister is subtly moving in front of her so she won’t see me. “She looks good, doesn’t she? I had my stylist send over dresses for them.”
My mom’s voice is low in my ear. Sarah blocks my view and I turn toward my mom, finally listening. “You did what? Mom! You need to stay out of it.”
“There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to meet such a talented young woman in entertainment just because my son acted like an idiot. Now introduce me.” She starts walking toward Maeve, and I seriously consider tripping her. Her heels are so tall, it would definitely look like an accident. I hesitate for a moment, then rush after her because she’s already wrapping Maeve in a hug. She towers over her, and Maeve’s face is quite literally smashed against my mother’s half-exposed chest. This is humiliating. “It is so great to meet you! I’m Evangeline,” my mom gushes. “I have listened to every episode, and you are a genius. The talent! And Finn tells me you handle the recording and editing. I have people for that, if you want them …. But anyhow, it is incredible and I am so happy to meet you.”
She finally stops for air and I speak into the lingering pause. “Maeve, this is my mom. Mom, Maeve.” Maeve always feels awkward at parties. Usually we’re a unit, chatting with people, sharing snarky comments, getting inspiration for episodes. I’m sure she feels especially out of place here since everyone is an A-lister except her and Sarah. Despite the success of Tell Me How You Really Feel , she’s still more like celebrity adjacent than a true celebrity, although I suspect our Streamify deal will soon change that.
Sarah opens her mouth, probably to take the opportunity to ream me out in front of my mom, but Maeve jumps in. She smiles, and if I didn’t know her better, I would think it was real. “Of course. It is so great to meet you. My sister and I grew up watching you. And thank you so much for the dresses, the styling … we had so much fun.”
“You deserve it after what he put you through.” I think I’m in a waking nightmare because Cassidy has somehow materialized on my other side. She cuts me a glance, then continues. “Finn, just leave. Let us all talk.”
I think I am going to throw up. Or die, or combust. Is this real? I look to Maeve, because whatever she wants me to do, I will. She’s the only person I can read in a glance. I always thought that was a myth in books: that one look could tell you exactly what someone was thinking. But with Maeve, I’ve spent so many hours staring at her, at her bony knuckles while she edits, at the slight gap in her left eyebrow, from when she fell off her bike, the way she pushes her hair behind her ears when she’s uncomfortable, widens her eyes just the tiniest bit before narrowing them when she’s shocked but won’t say it, the one silver filling in her back teeth that’s visible when she laughs genuinely. I know more from one glance at her face than an entire conversation with anyone else.
She gives me an almost imperceptible nod, or maybe it’s just a flicker of her eyes, and I turn and leave them, my hands shaking. I used to think I was so confident. But really, I just had nothing I cared about losing.
I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and take it out to the pool. Yes, the pool. The infinity pool that my parents put in even though we live at the beach. Actually, they likely put it in because we live at a public beach. I didn’t realize it was strange to put in a pool when you live on the water until I mentioned it to Maeve and she promptly laughed in my face at the decadence. It’s hard for me to know whether Cassidy is helping Maeve plot my imminent demise or telling her that I really do love her. I’m desperately trying to eavesdrop when the CEO of Streamify plops down on the pool chair next to me.
“Finn, my man. How’s it going?” Derek is pushing sixty-five but likes to pretend he’s twenty. And his girlfriends actually are. Streamify’s was the only offer we seriously considered, since they wouldn’t take our IP because what they wanted was platform exclusivity. But knowing that they also signed Paul Myers makes me want to back out of the contract altogether. I would, if I didn’t know Maeve actually needs the money.
“Ah, all right.” I do my best to appear chill and not like I’m watching my life combust. “You?”
Derek claps me on the back. “I’d be better if one of my biggest buys of the year didn’t just bomb their first episode back. Those memes? That we’re forcing you two to be here? Not funny.”
I drink the rest of my whiskey in one gulp. “We’re just getting into the swing of things.”
“No, you’re not. You two are on ice. But it’s not too late to sign the solo show. If you two drop below the top one hundred in the first three months, we can terminate the Tell Me How You Really Feel contract.”
My blood runs cold. I’m not cutting Maeve out. This show is the only shot I have at turning things around with her. And she deserves all this and more. “We can turn it around. We just had a scheduling conflict. It was my fault.”
This time the hand that touches my back makes me jump. Because I know Maeve’s touch. So light that it almost feels like a soft puff of wind or a butterfly. Her hands are always ice cold, and she uses this maple-scented lotion that makes me crave pancakes. She sits next to me on the chair, and it’s like every cell in my body breathes a sigh of relief to be allowed next to her again. I don’t know how I’ve made it through this many days without her next to me.
Derek smiles widely, even though seconds ago he was telling me he wanted to axe her. “Maeve! You look stunning. We need to get you out to more events. You two look great together .” He raises an eyebrow pointedly.
“Thank you, Derek,” she says sweetly. I hate how he’s looking at her.
“Derek was just saying that if we drop below the top one hundred in the first three months, they can terminate the contract.” I’ve spent enough time talking to my mother and Maeve to know how often women are left out of the important business meetings because they happen at boys’ clubs and golf courses. Even though my instinct is to keep her from worrying, I’m not going to leave her on the outside of these backdoor meetings about the show she started. Especially not when the theme of the night is pay gap equality.
I feel Maeve stiffen almost imperceptibly next to me, but she doesn’t visibly react. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that. We have a great episode planned for next week. Finn’s mom is coming on the show!”
Derek brightens considerably. “Finn! You should’ve just said so. This will be great stuff, maybe we can get some photos of the three of you here to promo it. I’ll get my guy on it.”
Before we can argue, he’s lumbering away, barking orders into his phone. Maeve and I are left sitting alone, so close I can feel her shiver. I turn toward her and she looks down at her wineglass, hiding her face from me. “Is that true? About the cancelation?” Maeve asks.
I’m surprised she has to ask. Even though I typically took charge of contract negotiations with our old sponsors, she always read them so carefully that I joked she should just take over. I take advantage of her being so close to me to examine her. She looks as beautiful as ever, but I can tell she has dark circles under her eyes, shielded by makeup. And she has a smattering of acne along her temple, where she always breaks out when she’s stressed. I hate that her pain is my fault. “Yes. But that isn’t going to happen. Is it true that my mom wants to be in an episode?”
“Yes,” she says, and she tears her eyes up to look at me. And it kills me, because they’re wet. No tears have fallen, but I can see her blinking them back, see the agony in her dark brown eyes. Because she has to talk to me.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out. “I—”
“Finn!” Her voice cracks. “Stop. Shazia meant what she said. I can’t be always worrying about everything coming up. I can’t talk about it. If we’re going to work together at all, our relationships have to be off-limits.”
I don’t know how we’re going to bring the ratings up long-term if we do that. But I would agree to anything she wants right now to alleviate even a fraction of the stress she’s feeling. Although I know Maeve’s been managing her anxiety pretty well the past few years, I can tell that she’s on the verge of a panic attack. “Whatever you want. I won’t bring it up, I promise.”
“Thank you,” she breathes. One tear starts to fall, and when I go to dab it with my napkin, she flinches.
I pull away, chastened. “Sorry.”
She ignores me and wipes it away herself, just as Derek barrels out of the house with a photographer, Cassidy (bearing her phone), and my mom in tow. “Photoshoot time!” he commands.
I want to tell them that now is not the time. But when I look to Maeve for permission, she doesn’t make eye contact with me, and instead she turns to them and pastes a smile on. “Let’s do it!” She offers me a hand, and I help her up because apparently when we’re faking it, touching is okay.
The sun is setting behind us, and the view is gorgeous. We let the photographer arrange us. First, we do a few shots with me between my mom and Maeve. Then he takes a few of Maeve and me, her tucked into my chest. I let my chin rest on the top of her head, which is possible thanks to her heels, and for a moment I feel her lean into it, and her eyes flutter shut. It hurts to look at her because I know it feels right for her too, but I’ve ruined it. I’ve ruined everything. Without her, I feel directionless, untethered. I look up, and right as I do the camera flashes.
“Those eyes,” the photographer mutters. He turns the camera toward us, and Maeve breaks away to look at it. I feel exposed, like everything I feel is written on my face. But Derek just takes a picture of the preview with his cell and texts it to someone, then starts giving more instructions.
My mom takes my hand and squeezes it once, quickly. For the first time since all of this has happened, she looks worried, and if I had to hazard a guess, I would say it’s because now she realizes Maeve isn’t just another girl to me. She’s everything.
We launch into a series of goofy shots, Maeve and my mom tugging on my arms, them whispering to each other while Maeve holds me off with a palm to the face, us playing rock paper scissors, and me picking her up and throwing her over my shoulder. Cassidy takes videos and air-drops them to Derek for social, but she looks more pained by the second. Even though we’re doing fun-looking things, the mood is more somber than playful.
“Can we get one more? Maybe you two with Cassidy?”
“No.” Maeve and Cassidy say it simultaneously.
My mom jumps in too, speaking directly to the photographer. “We’re done here, thank you.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Thanks all, great stuff. Can’t wait to see those ratings!” He’s walking away before we can say anything else, and the four of us are left there, the request looming.
“Finn, honey, can you help me in the kitchen?” I follow my mom out gratefully, after checking that Maeve isn’t giving a wide-eyed “please don’t leave me with her” look. She pointedly is talking to Cassidy and ignoring me.
My mom leads me to a spare bedroom, since the kitchen is actually full of caterers and bartenders. She takes her heels off and starts massaging her feet. I sit next to her on the bed, but it’s at least two minutes of silence, just her groaning as she gives her feet a break from the heels. “Maeve is lovely,” she remarks finally.
“She is.”
“If this was one of my movies, I’d tell you to make a huge gesture, sweep her off her feet, and apologize. But this is real life. So you need to start by being happy with just being her friend. With potentially always just being her friend. If you can get that foundation back, you can work from there.”
“That’s not very romantic.” My voice is pinched.
“That’s because what you two have is real.”
I nod. I can do this. I can be her friend. I’d rather be that than nothing to her. “I can start there.”
“Good. Now get back out there and let her sister yell at you. You won’t get anywhere if her family still hates you.”