12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Finley
I go to the library to see Lou—not because I have something in particular to tell her, and not because I plan to invite her to do something with me. Just because she’s in there and I’ve been thinking about her and I don’t want to do anything else.
“Again with the computer,” Aaron says as we enter the room. “Did you not get the memo? Vacation, LouLou. Vacation.”
“This is a library,” she whispers, her eyes flitting to me, then back to her brother. “Quiet, please.”
The resort has a multifunction space with an indoor gym, a kid’s play area, and shelves upon shelves of books to borrow. Unlike the villa or restaurants, this building has tall ceilings with windows only at the top so the light diffuses. It’s a quiet refuge from the sunshine. Scattered among the interior are bizarre-shaped orange chairs—like pods from a science fiction movie that sort of close out the rest of the world when someone sits in them. Lou’s got her legs crossed and her laptop resting on the pillow in her lap.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Aaron, for real,” she says. “Go away.”
“You’re literally in paradise, and you’re spending time on your computer.”
“She’s fine,” I say, and Lou’s face softens. “Didn’t you want to get a book for Mel?”
“You’re right. ‘Something smutty with cowboys.’” He squints at some bookshelves built into the wall. “How’s this place organized?”
“Western romance’ll be that way.” Lou points to an alcove down the hall.
Once Aaron’s out of earshot, I claim the pod chair near Lou’s. “Is that actually where the romance books are?”
“They’re not not there,” she says with a sly smile as she clicks on her screen. “Nothing’s shelved by genre. So if he’s hunting for something in particular, he can hunt for it way over there and stop annoying me.”
A man and his kid of nine or ten pause outside the children’s area and examine a bulletin board before heading into the room. I scan the lobby, then snoop at Lou’s computer to find her working on some kind of 3D bottle label. A soda with a retro-y, 70s sort of vibe.
“Didn’t catch you leaving.” I keep my voice low, almost inaudible.
“I’m lucky I woke up when I did.”
“Meant to set an alarm.”
I didn’t intend for Lou to sleep over in my room, but I’m not mad about the turn of events. I’m disappointed that I missed her in the morning, though. The sun’s reflection on the water woke me up, almost blinding me. Then, Lou’s scent on the pillow, rich and sweet, reminded me of what we’d gotten up to. Reminded me that the night was real.
“I ran into my dad in the living room.”
“Shit.” My stomach does a free fall. We should tell Dave and Betsey, and the rest of the Moores, about me and Lou at the right time. Her crawling back to her bed the morning after doesn’t qualify as that time.
“He’d woken up already. Reclined on the couch to watch sunrise. He only noticed me once I reached the kitchen, so I pretended I wanted something to drink.”
“Do you…Did he suspect anything?”
“Don’t think so. If so, he didn’t say anything.” She scans my face. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not.”
Being with Lou has felt right , aside from the whole clandestine aspect to what we’re doing. Last night I almost told her I loved her, and I do—I love Luna Moore, and I have for a long time. This vacation’s proven we work well, both on our own and as a part of the Moores. Us being together doesn’t have to change anything, even if it changes everything.
This can work.
Lou taps a key on her keyboard with a loud click, and she sighs. “Alright, done.”
“Done, like no more work until next week?”
“Close. I made some revisions to a design based on feedback. And I had a prospective client email me, so I sent them an updated list of services.”
“Oh?”
She nods, tapping her fingers on her laptop. “I took your advice, and I’m raising my rates. Or trying, at least.”
“How’s it feel?”
“Terrible. They’re going to say no.”
“They might. They might not, though.”
She gives me a halfhearted smile. “Encouraging.”
“If they’re smart, they’ll say yes.”
“I charged on the lower end since I was just starting out and wanted to get work. But I thought about what you said. I’ve been doing this kind of work for years at an agency, so I shouldn’t sell myself short.” She leans back into the chair and fiddles with the hem of her pants. “That thing you said about scarcity mentality made me realize I’ve been afraid to voice what I want and need because that could shut out a bunch of possibilities. But if they’re not what I’m looking for, or if they’re not right for me because they don’t pay well enough, then why take those clients on? That’ll close me off to better stuff.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” Her expression shines like the sun after a storm. “It’s scary, but…I like the idea of being valued more. Appreciated for what I’m worth.”
I tap her foot with mine and we share a secret smile, though our hushed moment together gets interrupted by a young girl panting and running into the lobby to check the bulletin board. She grabs a push pin and stabs her piece of paper into it, examining the others before she races back out.
“Can you imagine coming here on vacation as a child?”
“Pretty wild,” Lou says, closing her laptop. “We did trips. You were there for lots of them. Nothing as luxe as this, though.”
Robertson family getaways involved my parents fighting a lot. As a kid, I would have loved coming to a place like this—an island where I could roam on my own, away from my brother and away from my mom and dad. Not much of a bonding experience, but more enjoyable.
“Must be nice.”
“Could be,” Lou says. “Might be kind of boring, though. Lonely. There’s not a ton of kids here, so yeah, they have cool stuff to do, but it’s a lot of doing it alone. That’s why they have that corkboard.”
I mosey over to the board. On one paper, someone scribbled Monday 3pm-ish basketball @ the court , another reads building a ginormous sandcastle today at the main beach . Each of the notes represented a kid looking for someone to hang out with. Something tugs at my insides because I know firsthand how activities with friends, with other kids, matter.
“You look like your wheels are turning.” Lou holds her computer to her chest like a shield, but she stands close enough for our arms to touch.
“Yeah, I…You remember how I always had a standing invitation to go to your place? If it weren’t for school clubs and Aaron to hang out with, I’d be a different man. I might have an idea for something to work on.”
“Really?”
“Did I hear my name?” Aaron appears on my other side, a book in his hand, and I withdraw from Lou.
“Finn thinks he’s figured out his next big business venture.”
“Work, work, work with you two.”
“Aaron.” Lou frowns at him. “This is good. Finn needed inspiration, and he found it. Plus, no California.”
“Oooh, you’re right.” He pats me on the back. “Sorry. Tell me more.”
“Not sure what it’ll look like yet.” My hand on my jaw, I stroke the scruff of my beard as I turn the idea over in my head. What’s most important at this stage isn’t what I create—it’s why. “I want to help kids who feel alone. Maybe they don’t have siblings or things aren’t good at home or school, but they’d like to find their people.”
“A social network?” Lou asks.
“No. More activity-focused. Kind of like this board.”
“But out in the real world?”
“Mm. Safety’d be number one, obviously. That’ll be tricky. But if I can figure out a plan, I could create something I would have liked at that age.”
“That’s brilliant,” Lou says while smiling up at me. “If anyone can make it work, it’s you, Finn.”
I’m in that mood again, the same one I had when I first thought up my previous app. Fired up. With thoughts of that San Jose job already dissipating, I’m ready to dive into research and brainstorming and assembling a strong team. This past month, I’d lost sleep looking for a new direction for myself, but all I had to do was travel halfway around the world to figure it out.
“I need to go write some things down.” I kiss Lou on the cheek, and the second my lips hit her skin, I realize my mistake. When I pull back, her eyes are wide. My friendship with Lou has never veered into kiss-each-other-on-the-cheek territory. So I turn to Aaron and kiss him too, with Lou laughing as I run out the door.