24. Finn
twenty-four
Finn
“ E xcuse me?”
That’s all I get out before Patricia barks “sit” with her mother-of-five authority. I dutifully do as I’m told, waiting as my staff members exchange loaded glances.
“Do you want to tell me what this is—”
“Uh-huh. Not yet,” Patricia interrupts me, holding a finger up in my direction as she and Trudy have a silent conversation.
“I told you. Did you see the way his hands fisted when you hollered at her?” Letitia whispers like I can’t hear her.
A wicked grin overtakes Patricia’s face. “Why do you think I yelled like that? Everyone knows you don’t approach Vivian that way.”
My mouth drops open, but I close it the second all four sets of eyes swing to me.
Trudy hums, folding her arms and leaning back in her chair.
Maxwell leans his elbows on the table with a Sorry, dude shrug before placing his chin on his thumbs.
The youngest of our staff, he’s about five years my junior.
We probably could have been friends, except he’s an avid surfer, and I despise water.
The air in the room is suddenly more frigid than when they all ignored me for a month.
“I don’t mean—”
“Shush,” Patricia says, taking a noisy breath before leaning to press her palms on the table.
The hairs on the back of my neck raise. I started out running this room, but it’s all hers now.
“First, we want you to know that you’ve made a good choice. There’s no one in this town as good as Vivian.”
I’m the recipient of a cutting glare when my lips part, so I quickly seal them. Patricia releases the table to leisurely pace back and forth.
“Secondly, after a private meeting of our own yesterday morning—”
She pauses as a surprised sound escapes my throat.
“You really thought we were going to allow you to have a relationship with our Vivian without discussing it?” Patricia raises her eyebrows. “Without it meeting town approval?”
A muscle in my jaw ticks. I’ve had just about enough of this.
“Vivian is an intelligent and capable woman. She can make her own choices. She doesn’t need you to police her life or ‘let her’ do anything.
It’s honestly ridiculous the way you all treat her.
She’s not some fragile creature that needs to be handled with kid gloves.
She’s so much stronger than any of you give her credit for. ”
A hushed quiet reverberates around the room after my barking tirade, but I don’t care. Forget always being polite, constantly worrying about optics, and being likeable. These people should be supporting Vivian, not making decisions on her behalf.
Her plans are incredibly brave. Most people accept what’s given to them because it’s too hard to do the work of changing your life.
I shoot up, my skin uncomfortably hot, my muscles twitchy. “This is absurd, and I’m not—”
“ Bro. ” Maxwell rubs his forehead, embarrassed for me. “You fell right into that.”
A quick glance around the room proves he’s right. Every librarian is holding back a smile. Letitia even has her hand splayed over her heart.
I blink, quickly trying to recalibrate.
“I like when they get feisty,” Trudy stage-whispers to Patricia. “Shows that they care.”
“This one’s truly a goner,” Patricia says, like I’m not standing at the other end of the table.
“Gary skated along while Atticus ran this morning, chatting as they do sometimes, and guess who was thinking about taking on some accounting side projects in addition to his corporate job? I’ll give you a hint: Atticus.
And wouldn’t you know his plans to meet his potential client were at the exact same place and exact same time as our last-minute meeting about the library fundraiser. ”
I barely keep from muttering “Small towns” like a curse word. I’m used to my life of generalized anonymity, of people knowing me from work and knowing about professional accolades but not paying attention to my personal life.
This is next-level busybody behavior.
But if I’m honest, it doesn’t seem like the worst thing to be known, for people to care what happens to you.
There’s not a warm and fuzzy sense of belonging when you are born to continue a business legacy—you’re either a cog in the machine, or you’re a problem.
Actually belonging somewhere where people genuinely care about you…
I don’t even know what a life like that would look like.
My heartbeat slams against my chin, but I slide my hands into my pockets, finally in control of my outward appearance. I’m calm. Unaffected. For all they know, this is merely a coincidence.
“That’s certainly an interesting theory,” I say with my best smile. “But this is the only business open on Sundays—unless you’d rather have this meeting in Dotty’s small produce aisle.”
Patricia tsks, shaking her head.
“Maybe it is just a coincidence.” Letitia scribbles something on her notepad, ever the peacemaker.
“Good thing,” Trudy agrees, “since Atticus’s hand dropped real low on Vivian’s back as he led her away.”
My brain knows it’s bait, but the signal doesn’t get to my tense muscles quick enough. My flinch might as well be a confetti cannon shooting paper hearts embossed with Finn + Vivian 4eva!
Maxwell laughs at my tight expression. “If it makes you feel any better, she’s just as transparent about her feelings as you are. You should be happy. There’s nothing worse than pining for someone and having them not like you.”
I don’t even have time to process Maxwell’s words because the conversation careens on.
Trudy nearly launches herself over the table. “Like the way Atticus has been fawning over Amanda Ratchack since she returned from Sweden?” She snorts. “That’ll never work out.”
“I don’t know,” Letitia muses. “Stranger things have happened.”
“We should ask Camille if she’s dreamt about either of them,” Patricia adds.
My puzzled expression must show, like every other emotion I seem to be having, since these people are reading me like a large-print book.
“Camille is the middle school art teacher who’s also a touch psychic.
She ‘sees’ people together in her dreams, and then they almost always end up coupling off.
She’s accurately paired off most of the monogamous couples in Wilks Beach, including Gary and me.
” Patricia taps her chin, her gaze narrowing on me again.
“Come to think of it, Camille said she saw Vivian with a man wearing a suit, but she could never get a good look at his face.”
All eyes swing to me again. I’d forgone my suit vest today in an attempt to look more casual, but my professional attire revolves around suit pieces—though I rarely wear a jacket.
A collective gasp goes through the room.
“Finn could be him! The faceless man!” Trudy shouts, pointing like a lunatic.
“ Okay. ” I spread my hands in front of my rioting chest. “This meeting has gotten way off topic. Can we focus on the fundraiser, please?”
“I agree.” Maxwell leans onto his thumbs again. “The offshore winds are making choice waves. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Patricia and Trudy grumble, but Letitia just gives me a small smile. “I think it’d be nice if it was you.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” I say evenly, though it feels like fizzy bubbles are shooting down my arms.
“Well, before you so rudely shot us down, I was about to tell you that the consensus of our meeting was that we all like you and Vivian together.” Patricia adds with a huff.
“You do?”
“You’re like her opposite but in the best way—always knowing what to say when she struggles to communicate.”
I stare at her, uncharacteristically wordless.
“Not that you need our approval. You’ll make your own decisions. It’s your life. Yada yada.” Patricia waves a hand, sharing a commiserating glance with Trudy.
My brain is buzzing while a strange, yet comforting, sense of warmth infiltrates everything else. I need to figure out this situation with Vivian, but one word keeps ticking at my temple like remnant rain drops falling off a roof—honest.
“I like you like this.”
So much of the last several years has been a master class in deceit—mostly out of necessity to protect Cordelia. But there had been a part of me so hurt by Katelyn’s actions that it made me want to hide away, especially since she confirmed what my father has always told me.
No one would ever love me as I am.
But he’d been wrong about my ability to thrive without his money, without his last name. What if he’d been wrong about this too? Maybe I could slowly show Vivian parts of who I really am.
“Thank you,” I tell Patricia, and then just to needle her, I add my most charming grin. “I’ll take your feedback under consideration.”
As expected, she rolls her eyes.
“For the fundraiser”—my shoulders settle as I mentally shift gears—“let’s start by making a list of actionable items.”