Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
FINN
It was around seven p.m. when he began to tire. The act of staring at a spreadsheet seemed to suck his energy away somehow. Suddenly, something crashed into the table behind him.
"We need a break," Elena announced. "Or at least a change of pace."
When Finn turned around, he found Elena staring at him with her arms crossed. On the table next to her was a small bluetooth speaker. She turned it on, and it made a small ‘bwoop’ sound.
"What are you doing?" Finn asked, though he already knew.
She hit play on her phone. A moment later, music filled the lab. Fast-paced Latin music. He didn’t know the exact BPM, but it was a high number. The lyrics were Spanish and the rhythm refused to stop. Elena began to dance.
Finn didn’t like to dance. It was impossible for him to dance and not look awkward.
Elena however, did not seem mind to be the only person dancing while the other person sat there like a wet rag.
She was good at it too. And comfortable, like she had taken her first dance lesson immediately after being born.
Finn though, was thoroughly uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do, so he awkwardly asked, "Is this... what you listen to? In your headphones?"
Elena nodded, moving to the beat as she returned to her computer. "Among other things. Why, is it a problem?"
"No, just..." He searched for the right word. "It's very... energetic."
"That's the point." She kept dancing as she typed away on her keyboard. "You can't fall asleep to a beat like this."
Finn watched her, fascinated by the transformation. "It feels more like party music than work music."
Elena looked up, eyebrows raised. "Work music? What does that even mean?"
"You know." He gestured vaguely. "Something... calmer. More focused."
"Boring, you mean." She laughed at him. "Music isn't supposed to be focused, Finn. It's supposed to make you feel something."
He continued to watch her as she moved to the rhythm. He was still stiff as a board. And he definitely wasn’t getting any work done.
"You hate this, don't you?" She was watching him now, amusement in her eyes.
"I don't hate it," he said defensively. "It's just not what I usually listen to."
"So what do you listen to? Boring work music? A playlist called: The Accountant’s Song Compilation?"
“For your information, I happen to know many accountants that have incredible taste in music." He pushed at the bridge of his nose as if adjusting glasses that weren’t there.
She leaned forward, intent. "What's your party music, Finn? I'm dying to know."
The challenge in her voice was unmistakable. He hesitated, then reached for his own phone. He connected to the speaker, scrolled through his music, and hit play before he could second-guess himself. An Alanis Morissette playlist. “Hand in My Pocket” started.
Elena's eyebrows shot up. "This is your idea of party music?"
"What's wrong with Alanis?" he asked, defensive.
"Nothing, just… it’s not exactly club material, is it?"
Finn raised a finger at Elena to make sure he got his point across. “Listen, I don’t need to go to any damn club that is too good for Alanis.”
Elena stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "I had no idea you felt so strongly about 90s pop-rock."
He smiled, swept along by her amusement. "There's a lot you don't know about me."
"Apparently." Still laughing, she held out her hand. "Come on, then. If this is party music, let's dance."
Finn stared at her outstretched hand, frozen. "I don't dance."
"Everyone dances. Some just do it badly." She wiggled her fingers. "Come on. I won't tell anyone."
There was a challenge in her eyes. Her brown eyes he found it hard to look away from.
And he found himself unable to refuse her.
He took her hand and stood, feeling awkward in his own body.
Either Elena didn’t notice, or she just didn’t show it.
There was something special about people that made you forget your self-consciousness. And she was one of those people.
She moved to the music, still holding his hand, guiding him into a simple rhythm. "Just feel it," she said. "Stop thinking so hard."
Finn gradually let himself get involved.
The song's melody wrapped around them, and everything else faded away.
The deadline, the worry, and especially the spreadsheet he had been staring at twenty minutes ago.
He loosened up, his movements becoming more natural as Elena's hand rested on his shoulder.
"See?" she said. "Not so terrible."
Her face was close to his now, close enough that he could see the light in her brown eyes.
She smelled like coffee and something floral.
Her shampoo, maybe. When she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, something primal stirred in him at the reminder of how much smaller she was, how easily he could span her waist with his hands.
He found his hand settling there, tentative at first, then more confident as they moved together. The way she had to look up at him made him feel protective and hungry all at once. The music swelled, and Elena let her head tip back, a smile forming.
A new song started, another Alanis track, “Hands Clean”. Elena looked up at Finn with skepticism. “Finn, I’m afraid I need to deliver some tragic news. I don’t think you will ever find a club that exclusively plays Alanis Morissette.”
Finn smiled down at her. “That’s okay. I was never much of a clubber anyway.”
His eyes remained locked on hers, and his hands remained locked on her waist. Somehow, their proximity had shrunken.
He had never had a moment quite like this with any of his former supervisors.
Although none of them looked quite like Elena.
Not even close. This was dangerous. Elena was fifteen years older than him.
His supervisor. She held an important position and had a twelve-year-old son to provide for.
All valid and logical reasons to end whatever this was right now.
But Finn found himself unable to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it.
As they swayed, the lyrics of this new song pierced the bubble that had formed around them. Alanis sang about a secret relationship with a younger man. Just as he was realizing this, he noticed a new look in Elena’s eyes. She also realized what the song was about.
The bubble had fully evaporated at this point. Elena stepped back, breaking contact. "I should probably go," she said, her voice high. "It's getting late, and I need to pick up Miguel from the sitter."
Finn blinked. "Oh. Right. Of course."
"This was—" she struggled to find the right words, "—fun. A good break. But, you know. Responsibilities."
"Elena," Finn started, then stopped. "I'm sorry if I—"
"No, no," she cut him off. "Nothing to be sorry for. Just... late. And Miguel. You know."
She reached for her bluetooth speaker and turned it off. The awkwardness hung between them. Elena busied herself gathering her things, not meeting his eyes.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said loudly. "Lots to do, right?"
Finn nodded, his face neutral again. "Right. Tomorrow."