Chapter 29
Finn
“Get the hell out of here,” Finn snarled as Henry made his way through the penthouse.
The empty penthouse.
Once Finn had untangled himself from the swarming, insensitive gossip reporters, he’d rushed back to Manhattan, rehearsing what he was going to say to Iris the whole way.
Only to find the apartment dark, the bed empty, and no sign that Iris had been back at all.
With a sinking stomach, he wondered if she’d gone back home. To the palace. To her mother and sisters. To the one place where she wouldn’t have to tolerate the curious gazes of people who wanted to know about her relationship with an up-and-coming politician.
The look on her face right before she’d turned and walked away had been gutting him endlessly ever since.
“We need to talk about that disaster last night.”
“The disaster that you created.”
Henry held up his hands, palms out. “Wait. Hear me out.”
“I don’t think I want to hear you out after that kind of betrayal, Hen.”
“I might be an ass,” Henry admitted. He ignored Finn’s snort. “But when have I ever deliberately set out to hurt you?”
That gave Finn pause.
Yes, Henry could be dogged, ruthless, even.
That said, everything Henry did was to help Finn, to benefit his campaign and, by extension, his life.
Did he occasionally say something off color?
Give him hard truths? Yeah. But he was never cruel.
He never went out of his way to do something he knew would upset Finn.
“Are you trying to claim you didn’t send the media to the docks?”
Henry sucked in a deep breath. “This is where it gets complicated.”
“How in the world could this be complicated?”
“Look, I may or may not have been … ranting a little. In the office. Within earshot of a bunch of our very eager-to-please interns.”
“Ranting about what?”
“About how you were wasting a perfectly good chance for an incredible photo op because you wanted some time alone with Iris. I was just … talking to myself. But I guess one of those well-intentioned interns got an idea in their heads. Then ran with it without running it past me.” Henry paused, his shoulders sinking low.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Finn. And I kind of hate that you think I was capable of it. ”
Finn had known his campaign manager for a long time. He’d never seen him look so defeated, so unsure of himself.
“They did so much damage.”
“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “The news is having a field day with how Iris ran off to—”
“Can you blame her?” Finn cut him off. He raked a hand through his already messy hair. “Iris wasn’t even dressed, for God’s sake.”
“To be fair, she’s a mermaid. They’re always almost naked.”
“Not Iris since she came to the surface. I think you forget that she’s a person sometimes. With her own thoughts, feelings, and boundaries. While I believe you don’t set out to hurt me, it feels like you don’t extend that same curtesy to Iris. All you have done is push her.”
“To help her become the political wife she agreed to become.”
“She was pressured into this marriage, Hen. She spent weeks trying to sabotage it. And both of us were too self--involved to see it. She didn’t make any kind of agreement.”
“She clearly made some kind of arrangement with you.”
“It wasn’t an arrangement. It was a relationship. A delicate one. And now …” Finn waved a hand, too frustrated to go on.
“This might not be the best time to say it, but if she is going to be with a public figure, she’s going to need tougher skin.”
“Henry, now is not the time for that. I don’t want to hear about optics. I want Iris back.”
Finn dropped down on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands.
“Where is he?” another voice joined the room.
“Where is the monster who made my charming sea fairy look like this?” Monty came waddling into the room, a phone in his hand.
“There you are,” he said, making a beeline for Finn.
“What did you do to her?” he asked. The pelican shoved the phone into Finn’s hands.
He glanced down at the screen, seeing an image he hadn’t come across yet.
It was taken near the parking lot. Iris was looking back toward, he assumed, him. Her arms were still wrapped around herself. And her eyes looked completely heartbroken.
His own heart ground to dust in his chest.
“I trusted her with you,” Monty said, snatching back his phone. “I encouraged her to give you a chance. And this is how you repay that trust? Shame on you. I’ll be gathering my things and leaving.” He was making his way toward the hall as he spoke. “You can have Iris’s things packed up.”
“Finn, we need to do some damage control,” Henry, not knowing when to let something drop, pressed on.
“No.”
“Your image—”
“To hell with my image. With the optics. With this entire damned campaign. I’m losing the love of my life.”
“Love,” Henry, a realist to his core, scoffed.
“Yes, love.”
“Love is … inconvenient.”
“It always is,” Finn shot back. “But it is worth it. To have one real thing in my life.”
He stormed away from Henry to move into the doorway of Monty’s bedroom. Where he found the bird picking up the cat and trying to shove him into one of his many bags.
“You can’t take Checkers.”
“He likes Iris more than you,” Monty sniffed, attempting to zip up the bag around the cat.
“Iris lives in the ocean.” Monty’s gaze flicked away. Too quickly. “She went to the ocean, didn’t she?”
“Where was all this concern for my magnificent sea wench last night?”
“Monty, do you know where she is?”
“I’m her emotional support bird. I always know where she is.
” He shoved several of his little vests into another bag as Checkers started to wiggle out of the head hole Monty left for him.
“Besides, the fish at the aquarium were trying to leap out of their tanks to get to her. One of them was spelling out HELP in bubbles, I swear.”
“What?”
“The fish were trying to get to her.”
“Why?”
“Do you know anything about that resplendent creature?” Monty asked, turning to cross his wings and glare at him.
“I know everything she’s been willing to share with me so far.”
That seemed to soften the bird slightly. His wings fell. “The fish swim to her when she cries. It’s some oceanic princess magic, I guess. Which I imagine is charming in the ocean. But mildly horrifying on land.”
“She was crying?” Finn asked, stomach dropping.
“Of course she was crying. And I hope that witch cursed you with each spilt tear.”
“The witch?” Finn asked, grasping onto that with both hands.
Monty sighed.
“She’s with Selene?”
“I can’t tell you that.” Monty lifted his enormous beak. But as Checkers finally emerged from the bag, he turned. “Get back here, you beast, or I’ll store you somewhere else much less favorable.”
“Do not put the cat in your beak.”
“He won’t stay in the bag!” Monty threw a wing out dramatically.
“Listen, how about you put a pin in stealing my cat. And in your packing. Let me go see Iris. I want to fix this.”
The pelican seemed unconvinced.
“I love her.”
“You say that. And yet she was crying last night.”
“Please, Monty. I want to make it right. I can’t lose her.”
Monty stared at him for a moment.
Finally, he gave him a nod and an address.
“But that’s the bookstore.”
“And Selene’s home,” Monty said. “Bring her a hot pretzel,” he suggested.
“I can do that,” Finn said, daring to feel hope for the first time in hours.
“Finn,” Monty called.
“Yeah?”
“Bring our girl home.”
“I will.”
He would.
Whatever it took. Even dropping out of the race, he’d do it. For her.
“Not now,” he snapped when Henry tried to stop him.
“Finn, we don’t have time for this. You’re still lagging in the polls. You have to get your face out there and change public—”
“There’s only one thing I need to do right now. And that’s try to convince the woman I love to give me another chance. Everything else can wait.”
Henry wasn’t done, though. He followed Finn into the elevator.
“There’s no time—”
“Then we lose the election.”
“How can you say that?” Henry shook his head. “This is all you’ve ever wanted.”
“Things change. Now she is all I want.”
As soon as the doors slid open, he strode out, ducking his head to avoid the hard look from Willow as she watered the plant in the lobby.
“You,” a voice said as Finn stepped onto the street. His head jerked up, seeing Arden barreling down the sidewalk toward him.
“I know. I’ve heard it all from Monty already. And there’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already been saying to myself.”
“Good. You should be wallowing. Now go do something heroic and romantic about it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan a wedding for two people who have practically been in love since they met but are too stubborn to see it? I’m surviving on caffeine and Firis fan fiction.”
“Firis?”
“Finn and Iris. It’s your couple name.”
“There’s fan fiction about us?”
“There’s fan fiction about the gargoyle who sits on top of the First Paranormal Bank building and sighs each time one of the tellers shows up to work.
Of course there’s fan fiction about you two.
But I bet after last night’s fiasco, a dozen new story arcs are being created as we speak.
And I want them all to end in scandalous sex and happy endings. Fix it, Finn.”
With that, he walked off.
Finn sucked in a deep breath and strode down the street, stopping only to get a whole bag full of hot pretzels before making his way to the bookstore.
The door was unlocked for business.
But when he tried to enter, he felt an invisible wall slam into him.
“Did it hurt? I hope it hurt,” Selene said, appearing out of the depths of the store. “A lot of wards come out kind of rubbery, so they don’t do any real damage. I added in some mystical concrete. Not enough to break your nose, but I hope it crunched a little.”
He barely resisted the urge to reach up and rub it.
“I deserve it.”
“You do. And unless that suit is hiding a grand romantic gesture, a heartfelt apology, or a soul, you’re not getting in.”
“I am sorry, Selene.”