23. Finn
FINN
“ T hey say good things happen in threes,” Sierra said as we made our way to my brother’s place in Studio City. “Movie officially wrapped yesterday. Family dinner. I wonder what number three is?”
“Hopefully you. In my bed. Tonight,” I said.
I chose not to mention that I wouldn’t exactly qualify a family dinner hosted by my mother as a good thing.
Sierra was happy about it, and that was what mattered.
I was willing enough to play along if it meant Sierra would be naked and moaning my name following the disaster this was likely to be.
“I’m always in your bed,” she said with a wry grin, which was especially true as of late. The moment we’d started sleeping together, we’d done away with the pretense of the guest room and turned it into a working office of sorts.
“I just like to set the expectation,” I said. “So you know exactly where you’re supposed to be when we get home. ”
Her expression was unreadable for a moment, then it passed, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. I tugged on my cuffs.
“Don’t fiddle,” Sierra chastised, reaching across the car to catch my hand. “You look perfect.”
“I look like I took a wrong turn out of nineteen twenty-two,” I said.
“Exactly.” Sierra grinned, adjusting the feathered headband in her hair. My eyes drifted down the sequined fringe of her flapper dress.
She crossed her legs in a way that made the dress ride up her thighs and smirked. “Eyes on the road, Mr. Bigshot.”
I dragged my gaze away. “I’m going to enjoy taking that off you later.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Indeed,” I growled. In the past, I’d have celebrated wrapping a movie out on the town, but as is typical of my mother, she’d planned our monthly family dinner for the night after we wrapped filming and declared that we all needed to show up dressed to the nineteen twenties theme.
I hadn’t been looking forward to that or the itchy suit I’d been stuffed into, but then Sierra had pulled me into the guest room and “helped” me get dressed in a way I really needed to not think about when I was about to walk into a room that held my mother and my eight-year-old niece.
“You okay?” Sierra asked.
I wasn’t sure what expression was on my face, but it was probably glazed and happy, given that I was replaying the moment she sank to her knees in front of me, taking my entire?—
“Yeah,” I said, clearing my throat. “Just eager to get this over with.” We pulled up to the security house of the gated neighborhood my brother lived in.
“Maybe it’ll go better than you think,” Sierra said. I knew she had a soft spot for my mother. They’d become close while working on the film.
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. My mother had decided to cook dinner herself from a book of nineteen twenties recipes which told me all I needed to know in terms of how edible dinner was likely to be.
I pulled my phone out while I waited for security to run my plates, messaging Carlos, my private chef.
I’d asked him to show up tonight just after dinner hit the table.
“Why don’t you give your mom a shot?” Sierra said, running her hand down the front of her dress, smoothing the fringe. “She’s obviously trying to do something fun here. Maybe it’ll turn out better than you expect.”
“Fun would have been pizza and charades,” I quipped. “I’m trying to make sure Grace doesn’t end up with food poisoning.”
Sierra gave me a hard look. “Your mother can’t be that bad of a cook.”
“Look, there’s a reason Connor is such a good cook, and it’s not because he needed a hobby when he was ten.”
“I just think it’s really sweet that she wants to cook for us. And the theme night idea is cute. You know, she’s trying to celebrate your success.”
The gate ahead of us rolled open. I tucked my phone away and smiled at her. Sierra was far too trusting, believing everything would work out and that good intentions would lead to good results. My childhood had taught me differently .
“Wow,” Sierra said, leaning forward to get a better look as we pulled up the winding drive to Liam’s mansion.
“And can you believe with all this space, Liam still can’t find anywhere to have sex with Mia with my mother around?”
Sierra’s lips twitched. I got out of the car, walking around to open her door for her.
I took her hand, helping her out of the car, feeling the cold press of the engagement ring against my hand.
It was a reminder that Sierra didn’t have to be told to put the ring on anymore.
She just wore it. All the time. That struck a weird chord in my chest, but I shoved it down, not knowing why I was so bothered by it.
I was the one who gave it to her to wear in the first place.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded as we made our way up to the door.
“You look sexy as hell. Have I told you that?”
“Only a few times,” Sierra said. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
“You look very, very sexy.” I reached for the front door, but it flew open before I could grab it.
“You have to knock!” Grace announced before slamming the door in my face. I blinked, momentarily stunned. Sierra broke into giggles.
“I take it that’s your niece?”
I grinned in amusement, shaking my head as I knocked. The door swung open again. This time, I was able to get the full picture of Grace clad in a tiny butler’s outfit, white gloves and all. “Hi, Uncle Finn! Can I take your coats?”
“Hi, Grace,” I said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. I gratefully shrugged out of my jacket and handed it over. Sierra didn’t have a jacket, but she offered Grace her purse .
“She’s adorable,” Sierra whispered as Grace went and dumped our things in a heap on the couch.
“She’s definitely the coolest eight-year-old you’ll ever meet,” I said as I whisked Sierra through the living room, doing formal introductions with Liam and his fiancée, Mia, and Connor.
“Feathers!” Mia said, looking at Sierra’s headband. “I knew I was missing something to go with this flapper thing I thrifted downtown.” She and Sierra immediately started chatting about their favorite thrift stores. As I watched them bonding, contentment bloomed in my chest.
It shouldn’t have mattered what anyone thought, but for some reason it did. I wanted my family to like Sierra, but I never should have worried about that. Everyone always liked Sierra.
“Appetizers are ready!” Mom said, rushing over with a party tray and placing it down on the coffee table. “I ran out of time and had to order them, but they are period appropriate.”
“Do we have to stick with period-appropriate drinks?” Connor complained.
Mom tittered. “Of course. Martinis for everyone!”
“Yay!” Grace cheered.
“Not you!” Connor said.
“Aww,” Grace whined, and we all laughed as she pouted and stomped across the living room to sit next to Sierra on the couch. “When is the wedding?” I heard her ask, taking Sierra’s hand to look at the ring.
“Oh, well?—”
“Can I be the ring bear?”
“Bearer,” Connor corrected her .
I winced. Despite how cute that question was, the fact that she was asking at all meant Connor hadn’t explained the whole fake relationship thing to Grace. I tensed, wondering how Sierra, the world’s worst liar, would respond.
She smiled brightly, like the question hadn’t even phased her. “As soon as we set a date, there will be all sorts of jobs that need doing.”
Smooth , I thought. Because without the date, there would be no wedding. So that wasn’t technically a lie.
“I can be the flower girl, too!” Grace declared excitedly while I caught Connor’s eye, inclining my head toward the kitchen. He followed after me.
“Sorry about that,” Connor said once we were out of earshot of Grace. “I didn’t exactly know how to explain a PR relationship to her. Divorce was a hard enough concept.”
“But what happens at the next family dinner when there’s no Sierra?” I asked.
Connor shrugged. “That’s up to you, I guess. I figure there’s at least a chance you’ll get your head on straight and realize what an absolute rockstar you’ve found and decide to hold on to her. Because frankly, if she can put up with you, she’s one in a million.”
“Hey!” I nudged him. Hard.
Connor snorted, slopping his drink. “Or if you don’t wise up, she’ll be just another ex-girlfriend for Grace to forget.”
His bluntness stung, but was he wrong? Ever since Layla, there hadn’t been anyone serious. Most of the time, the women I dated never met my family at all. The situation with Sierra was very different, of course, but would it have the same ending anyway ?
I honestly wasn’t sure. I hadn’t let myself think about the fact Jillian’s PR plan had a termination date. In some ways, it felt safer to know we had that out. But in other ways, I hated it. I didn’t want there to be an out.
I didn’t want to think about life without Sierra in my kitchen in the mornings, brewing her crappy coffee and eating her blueberry muffins, or fighting me for the covers in the middle of the night, or sneaking cans of RevX into the cupboards.
I wanted her there in all these little ways. And that was terrifying. Wanting things like that meant you were putting yourself at risk of falling apart if you couldn’t keep them. And I could not afford to fall apart.
By the time we sat down to dinner in Liam’s rarely used dining room, I was two martinis in, with Sierra by my side, and had mostly pushed away those concerns for my other concerns.
Mom’s cooking. My phone vibrated, and I discreetly glanced at it.
Carlos was outside, ready with a real meal if this all went south.
“Okay,” Mom said, walking out with the first course. “Here we are! Pate de foie gras.”
“Oh, good God,” I muttered as it was dished around the table. Sierra prodded my foot. I cut my eyes in her direction. She couldn’t be serious. My mother couldn’t handle a roast chicken, and she wanted to jump right to duck liver?
“What’s fwa-grass?” Grace asked, stabbing her dinner with her fork.
“Foie gras,” my mother repeated, pressing a kiss to Grace’s head as she passed behind her, “is duck liver. And it’s delicious.”
“Duck!” Grace said, sounding horrified. “Like Donald Duck?” Her eyes met mine across the table, and she looked like I’d just told her the saved file for her farming sim had been deleted .
“Just try it,” Connor said diplomatically.
I stuffed a piece in my mouth to stop myself from saying something I’d regret, but then I regretted that immediately. The texture was greasy and rubbery. It had clearly been overcooked.
“Good?” Mom asked, looking at Connor first. He smiled and nodded. That lying bastard. Liam and Mia did the same, forcing themselves to clear their plates, but I could tell by how long they were chewing they also thought it was awful.
“Yuck!” Grace said, leaning over her plate, a wad of half-chewed duck liver landing in a slimy blob. “Tastes like a shoe.”
“Grace,” Connor said awkwardly, turning his head to smile at Mom. “It’s just new to her.”
My mother glanced across the table. “Sierra, how is it?”
I looked over to see Sierra flush, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she searched for words.
Holy hell! The woman couldn’t lie her way out of this. Disaster was hurtling toward us so fast I did the only thing I could think of, snatched Sierra by the hand and dragged her out of her seat.
“It’s great, Mom. Why don’t you sit down? We’ll make everyone another round of drinks.”
I dragged Sierra into the kitchen, releasing her as I leaned over the sink to wash the taste out of my mouth. “It’s horrible.”
“It’s…not great,” Sierra admitted.
I wiped my mouth on a napkin, then went around to the back door where Carlos was waiting. “Thank God you’re here.” He walked in and set down his bag as I gestured to the mess in the kitchen .
“Okay, so there’s a whole lot happening here, and it’s pretty bad. I guess save what you can and ditch anything that tastes like a shoe?”
“The usual rules I cook by,” Carlos said, taking a whiff of something bubbling on the stove right as my mother walked in.
“Who’s this?” she asked, perplexed.
“Surprise!” I said with forced enthusiasm. “We thought it would be nice for you to be able to take a break and spend time with the family instead of cooking for us all night. This takes the pressure off you, and Carlos is happy to keep to the theme.”
Mom’s brow furrowed. “Oh,” she said softly. “Well…” There was a long, awkward pause as her eyes danced from Carlos to me to Sierra. “Yes, I suppose that’s a nice idea.”
Her voice hitched as she spoke, but she smiled politely at Carlos. “You can find the serving platters just over here. And this is the cookbook I’ve been working out of.”
Thank God.
Sierra nabbed my wrist, dragging me into the hall.
“What?” I said as she settled me with an unimpressed glare.
“She looked really hurt.”
I waved off her concern. “She’ll be fine.”
“I think she was really trying tonight, Finn.”
I scoffed. “Yes. Trying to poison us.”
Sierra tilted her head, giving me a thin-lipped smile. “No, I think she was trying to build a connection with you. By being involved in your movie. By framing this night around what you’ve both been working on together. And you just basically told her that her efforts weren’t good enough. ”
I shook my head. Sierra didn’t get it. I was doing this for all of us—and not just because I didn’t want us to have to choke down inedible food.
“I’m just trying to save us all, including Mom, from the inevitable breakdown that will happen when she realizes dinner didn’t pan out the way she imagined. Trust me. This is how it’s been my whole life.”
“Maybe in the past, but don’t you think you should at least give her a chance? That’s not who she is anymore.”
I took Sierra by the arms, squeezing gently.
“That’s who she’ll always be,” I said simply.
“Look, I’m glad she’s doing okay now—that therapy and medication and everything else are helping—but that doesn’t mean I trust her to hold it together when shit really hits the fan.
So if I can keep things from reaching that point, I’m going to.
Bad enough that we had to suffer through that first course.
It’s going to take days to get the taste of overcooked duck liver out of my mouth. ”
Sierra grimaced. “It did remind me a little of cat food. Though I can’t say my first attempt at something so complicated would be any better.”
“See? It’s better this way. I’ve taken the stress off the evening by lifting the responsibility from Mom’s shoulders. How is that a bad thing?”
“I never said it was a bad thing,” Sierra replied, but I could tell there was more she wasn’t saying.
I sighed. “Everyone’s happier this way, and no one’s put out or disappointed.”
Sierra looked at me like I was missing the point, but I was well acquainted with this particular point. When it came to Mom, it always paid to anticipate the worst.