Chapter Forty-Six - Michaela
Chapter Forty-Six
MICHAELA
STRING BULB LIGHTS ILLUMINATE the front lawn of the Alderidge Estate — it looks more like a fairy tale castle you’d find in France than the Blue Ridge Mountains of North America. It’s one of the largest homes in the country built by the Alderidge family as a summer home over one hundred years ago. Underneath a large chandelier, several guests glide across the dance floor, others sit at tables and lounge areas scattered across the lawn. I sway to the beat of a slow tune with the groom. “So, what’s it like?”
“What?” Nick asks.
“Officially being a married man.”
“It wasn’t official before?” He laughs, but he’s not wrong. Their city hall wedding over two years ago wasn’t what anyone would have predicted, especially not from Nina, but I think it’s the best thing they ever did. “She’s my best friend,” his stare moves behind me to find his wife. “It couldn’t be any better than that.”
“I’m happy for you guys. I’m just glad I was able to witness it finally.”
“I couldn’t wait for her to plan it,” Nick shrugs. “I mean, look how long this one took.”
“I think we all forgive you after the weekend we’ve had.”
“Would you have expected any less?”
“Absolutely not,” I laugh, but it fades when I meet Finn’s stare from the edge of the dance floor. He stands with Josh and Dean half-listening to their conversation. Damn, he looks good.
“Why don’t you talk to him?” Nick asks looking to see what caught my attention.
“I’d rather shit bricks.”
“A little dramatic, but okay.” Nick spins me under his arm.
“There is nothing more to say.”
“I’d say there’s quite a bit. You guys seemed to get along pretty well, there was just some miscommunication.”
“Well, none of it matters anymore,” I scoff.
Nick shakes his head with a small chuckle, “Did you ever ask him why he was doing it?”
“One would assume you’re starting a business because you want to, not because you have to. Not because if you don’t, you’ll lose your inheritance and way of life.”
“I’m just saying, you and Finn—”
“Nick,” I stop him. “Not everyone can be you and Nin, okay? We can’t all have an epic love story.”
“Now you’re really being dramatic. Stop putting us up on some pedestal, Mic. You can’t always compare yourself to us, to Nina.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m serious, Michaela. If you would just talk to him, I’m sure you could figure it out.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy. Besides, things have gotten more complicated the past few weeks.”
Is complicated the right word?
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, brows raised. My shrug isn't the answer he wants, but he doesn't have time to push because a manicured hand grips his arm.
“Mind if I cut in?” Nina asks with a knowing smile.
“I wasn’t finished,” Nick argues.
“Yes, you are. There will be no more interrogations tonight.”
“But—”
“I will fill you in when we don’t have an audience,” Nina says kissing him lightly. “It's time for the last bit of fun before we leave, and then real fun begins.” She winks at her husband before wiggling her eyebrows.
I fake a gag. “You guys are disgusting,” I say earning a small smile from my savior.
“Is this the part where I go up your dress in front of everyone?” Nick asks pulling her close a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Don’t be such a perv.” Nina smacks his chest playfully.
“I haven’t had enough alcohol for either of these conversations.” I quickly take the opportunity to escape before the DJ welcomes the single ladies to meet in the middle of the dance floor. I find my way to the bar ordering a new glass of wine.
“Shouldn’t you be out there?” Warmth blooms across my skin when I hear his voice. I refuse to look at him as he leans casually against the bar as the bartender pushes the glass my way.
“Shouldn’t you?” I reply from behind the glass.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Great observation, Sheffield. You went into the wrong business, you should’ve started a private detective service, instead. You have the pretending part down.”
His hand grips my arm when I try to walk away. His touch sends a shock through my system. “I wasn’t pretending, Shortcake.”
Shortcake.
My resolve melts a little at the nickname.
“It never came up, and maybe that’s my fault, but I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Of course, it mattered, Finn!” The outburst catches the attention of a few guests nearby, but they’re not the only ones — my brother's narrowed eyes from the edge of the dance floor dare me to cause a scene.
“Come with me.” Finn grips my hand pulling me into the night.