Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
FINN
R inging pierces my ears. I groan, throwing back the duvet to reach for my phone, then realise I’m not in my bed. Untangling myself from the duvet, I scramble to the end of Shelly’s bed, searching for my trousers and my ringing mobile.
Glancing at the phone, I roll my eyes at the time. There’s only one reason my mother calls at eight in the morning. I’m sure she’d call me in the middle of the night if she knew I didn’t have my phone on a do-not-disturb mode.
“Hey, Mum, what’s up?” I peek out the door, searching for Shelly, but she’s nowhere in sight.
“Your father called me last night to warn me that there was a photographer from the Magnolia Gazette at the country club. He tried calling you last night, but you wouldn’t answer.” She sighs like she does when she rubs the lines on her forehead. “You went to stay with your father to avoid the press while things settle down in parliament, but I’m hearing new stories of you every other week.”
“He disrespected my girl. What was I supposed to do? Pat him on the back?” I shove my legs in my trousers and scan the van for my shirt.
“The London Daily ran a full centre spread on you. At least it shows you with the same girl and not random one-night stands. I’ve put a complaint in for a breach of privacy for you. But you might want to issue a statement.”
I let out a long breath. Fuck my life. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But since you dated that model and then that singer, you’ve become Britain’s playboy poster boy.”
Picking my shirt off the floor, I finish getting dressed. “I have to go, Mum, I have to do damage control.”
“All right. And please make up with your father. I know he’s difficult, but he does only want what’s best for you.”
I doubt that. He wants what’s best for him. Always has. “All right, Mum. Bye.”
Thank fuck, it’s only in the British papers. I’m not sure how Shelly will feel about it. I should tell her. There can’t be any more secrets between us. I should have told her about my father already. But if I can convince him to change his plans, then there’s no need to upset her. No chance of that now. Mum’s right, I should put things right with Dad, but first I need to find Shelly.
The awning door flaps open in the breeze and I wonder if she’s gone to get breakfast. I step outside and see the woman I love storm towards me. My heart races. I button up my shirt as she approaches. Judging by her face, she hasn’t gone out for pancakes.
“Morning,” I say, attempting to sound cheerful.
She pushes at my chest, moving me out of the way so she can enter her awning. “You work for Dream Developments and Construction?”
Fuck. “I was going to tell you.”
“When? After you’d built your luxury apartments and dug up all the turtle nests?”
“I have nothing to do with that project. My father?—”
“You had me eat with the enemy last night.” Her eyes soften as they swell with unshed tears. “How could you?”
“He’s my father, Shell. I thought?—”
“You thought you’d both have a laugh with the silly turtle girl who has no clue who she’s having dinner with.”
“I thought if my father met you, he’d fall in love with you like I have.”
“Don’t.” She holds up her palm. “This isn’t how you treat someone you love. You don’t keep secrets from them.” She holds up her phone with the London Daily webpage. “I read the article. I know exactly who you are. You date girls who benefit you. First a model, then a singer. You even dated a member of the royal family, it says here.”
“She’s a distant cousin to the royals. We went to the same uni.”
“What I can’t figure out is what you hoped to gain from me. Were you going to blindside me so I’d forget the presentation next week? Try to get me on board so I don’t hinder your plans with the development?”
“Of course not.” I reach for her, but she bats my hand away. “Shelly, if you think that, then you don’t know me at all.”
“I don’t know you.” She steps backwards. “I want you to leave.” A tear drips from her lashes.
“Shelly, please. Let me explain.” I step closer, but she steps farther away.
“I gave you every opportunity to fess up last night. You promised you wouldn’t hurt me. ”
I drop my head low, shame clawing at my neck.
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?” She swipes the tear from her face, as if annoyed she allowed herself to cry. “Forget the fact that someone was photographing us while we were intimate—which, if I’d known you were the talk of the British press, I would never have put myself in that situation—you’ve made a laughingstock of me and everything I stand for. How will anyone take me seriously as a conservationist when I’m seen dating and having dinner with the land developers who threaten everything I’ve worked for?”
Of course she’s right. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest about who I was. But if I had, would you have got to know me still?”
“Get to know you?” She huffs. “I have no clue who you are!”
“I’m the same man I was last week. I’m the same man I was last night.”
“I don’t even know your real name. One paper calls you Jones, the other Fitzpatrick. Who are you?”
“I’m just Finn. That’s all I ever want to be.”
“The sign’s been there all along. You’re not a noble eagle. You’re a shark.” Another tear drips onto her cheek and I want to wipe it away, but the stony stare and venom from her mouth keeps me at bay.
“You bit off a chunk of my heart and ate it for breakfast. I won’t allow you to take any more pieces of me. I want you to leave.”
I collect my shoes from the floor, but my feet won’t move. Every muscle fighting to make her see reason, but she hates me. I swallow the lump in my throat. My mouth tastes like battery acid as I force my body to turn around.
Before I step out of the awning, I glance over my shoulder at Shelly. “You know what’s ironic? You’re probably one of the few people I’ve ever been myself with.”
The sun on my face contrasts with the coldness from her stare, but it does nothing to warm me. Walking barefoot on the dewy grass is like needles prickling my soles with each step I take away from her.
I should have known this is how it ends for us. I’m worse than a shark. A spineless jellyfish with a poisonous sting. Acid rises in my throat, making it difficult to breathe as I slip my shoes on and slump into my car behind her van.
I’ll give her some time and then reach out again to apologise. She has to forgive me. Without her, there’s nothing here for me.