"Wow. This looks like the set of some historical film about the antebellum south."
Heavy drapes, currently tied back with rope tiebacks, adorn the windows. The hardwood floor shines beneath faded rugs that look like they cost as much as the Bentley sitting in the driveway.
The proprietor, a friendly older man who introduces himself as Franklin, takes me on a tour of the main showroom, explaining the significance behind some of the pieces. They deal in antique restoration and they also carry originals crafted by local artists. I wander around lost in fantasy. When I look up, Finn is standing in the same spot by the door. He's not looking at the furniture.
His eyes are all for me.
Finally he makes his way over to where I'm standing. “What do you think?"
I answer honestly. "I think this place is fantastic."
"Now that you've had a chance to look around, has anything caught your eye?"
"Just the entire store!"
He laughs at my exaggerated sigh of pleasure. "If you could have anything in this store you wanted, what would you choose?”
I look around the store, all the choices suddenly three times as tempting now. “What’s my budget?”
“There is no budget. Whatever you want. Just pick out what you think would look good in my place.”
A bright turquoise chaise lounge catches my eye from across the room. I walk in that direction with Finn right on my heels. When we stop, I gesture at it dramatically. “This looks like a showstopper, huh? I’m thinking we might need more than one of these.”
His expression is so shocked that I can’t stop the giggles rising up. “Maybe we should even get one for your room!”
“Bright colors have never been my thing but I agree, this is really … something.” When he sees me laughing, his expression changes and he looks like he’s about to laugh too. “But seriously, I want you to choose things that you really like. Pick everything you’d choose if you were decorating your own place.” He runs a fingertip over the curved back. Inexplicably, my back arches and moves as his finger moves, like the action is directly connected to my nerve endings.
“But it’s not my house. You’re the one who has to live there.”
“True but if I decorate it’ll look like a cross between an army barracks and a frat house. That’s what you’re here for.”
“I'm here so you can torture me. That's the reality, Finn.” Suddenly I’m tired of the back and forth, the wondering and the disappointment of not being able to just enjoy this time with him at face value. Every moment I have to be aware that I’m here only as long as he finds his revenge game amusing.
“That's not all of it." Suddenly he looks uncomfortable. "It's not just about revenge. It's about promises unfulfilled. You promised me once that you would help me make a home. I’m holding you to that. Even though nothing else we promised seemed to matter.”
“It wasn’t like that. Loving you was a risk I wasn’t mature enough to handle back then. You’re the guy who loves to flirt and always has a compliment for every woman he meets. How was I supposed to compete with that? I grew up seeing what men like that leave behind. Kids and moms who have to work three jobs. That was our life and I wanted something more. I wanted stability. I wanted something real. So I chose the man who I thought could give me that.”
“Let’s not split hairs. You left me for the guy who could give you the big house and the fancy car and the rock on your finger. You chose the guy who could take care of you.”
“I take care of myself! I always have. But everyone needs someone to fall back on. Someone they can trust to be there. That was why I left you. You aren’t the guy who sticks around, Finn.”
“I would have for you. I would have stuck for you.”
"All of this is in the past, Finn. What's the point of arguing about it now? It doesn't matter. Andrew is part of my past. And so are you."
"Your past?"
"We're not together anymore," I admit. "I'm sure you already know that."
Finn stares. "I didn't. I just assumed you were still together. You're living in his house."
"Because he gave it to me. As an incentive not to talk to the press. We can't have anything tarnishing the Carrington name, now can we?"
He opens his mouth to say something else but I hold up a hand to stop him. I'm so tired of talking about Andrew. He’s out of my life and I refuse to allow him to take up any more of my time.
"It doesn't matter. We're here to pick out some furniture. So let's do that. You hired me to do a job so let me do it. No more talking about the past. Okay?"
He nods, looking like he's in a daze. But when I turn to walk away, he follows.
CHAPTER FIVE
FINN
I've gotten used to the soft sounds Rissa makes when she's working. But this time when I open my eyes it's to the sound of screaming. Not sure whether what I heard was part of a dream or nightmare, I sit up slowly, my senses on alert. I was up all night thinking about Rissa's stunning declaration yesterday that she's not with Andrew anymore. She's single.
She's mine.
It's impossible to stop my mind from leaping to the most ridiculous end of the spectrum, imagining that because she's free it means that I can have her. Then I hear it again. A scream coming from the living room.
I roll to the side and stumble out of bed, hissing in a harsh breath as all of my weight lands on my right leg. I breathe in and out in shallow pants as the pain slices through me. Then I make my way down the hallway, holding on to the wall for leverage.
Heavy drapes, currently tied back with rope tiebacks, adorn the windows. The hardwood floor shines beneath faded rugs that look like they cost as much as the Bentley sitting in the driveway.
The proprietor, a friendly older man who introduces himself as Franklin, takes me on a tour of the main showroom, explaining the significance behind some of the pieces. They deal in antique restoration and they also carry originals crafted by local artists. I wander around lost in fantasy. When I look up, Finn is standing in the same spot by the door. He's not looking at the furniture.
His eyes are all for me.
Finally he makes his way over to where I'm standing. “What do you think?"
I answer honestly. "I think this place is fantastic."
"Now that you've had a chance to look around, has anything caught your eye?"
"Just the entire store!"
He laughs at my exaggerated sigh of pleasure. "If you could have anything in this store you wanted, what would you choose?”
I look around the store, all the choices suddenly three times as tempting now. “What’s my budget?”
“There is no budget. Whatever you want. Just pick out what you think would look good in my place.”
A bright turquoise chaise lounge catches my eye from across the room. I walk in that direction with Finn right on my heels. When we stop, I gesture at it dramatically. “This looks like a showstopper, huh? I’m thinking we might need more than one of these.”
His expression is so shocked that I can’t stop the giggles rising up. “Maybe we should even get one for your room!”
“Bright colors have never been my thing but I agree, this is really … something.” When he sees me laughing, his expression changes and he looks like he’s about to laugh too. “But seriously, I want you to choose things that you really like. Pick everything you’d choose if you were decorating your own place.” He runs a fingertip over the curved back. Inexplicably, my back arches and moves as his finger moves, like the action is directly connected to my nerve endings.
“But it’s not my house. You’re the one who has to live there.”
“True but if I decorate it’ll look like a cross between an army barracks and a frat house. That’s what you’re here for.”
“I'm here so you can torture me. That's the reality, Finn.” Suddenly I’m tired of the back and forth, the wondering and the disappointment of not being able to just enjoy this time with him at face value. Every moment I have to be aware that I’m here only as long as he finds his revenge game amusing.
“That's not all of it." Suddenly he looks uncomfortable. "It's not just about revenge. It's about promises unfulfilled. You promised me once that you would help me make a home. I’m holding you to that. Even though nothing else we promised seemed to matter.”
“It wasn’t like that. Loving you was a risk I wasn’t mature enough to handle back then. You’re the guy who loves to flirt and always has a compliment for every woman he meets. How was I supposed to compete with that? I grew up seeing what men like that leave behind. Kids and moms who have to work three jobs. That was our life and I wanted something more. I wanted stability. I wanted something real. So I chose the man who I thought could give me that.”
“Let’s not split hairs. You left me for the guy who could give you the big house and the fancy car and the rock on your finger. You chose the guy who could take care of you.”
“I take care of myself! I always have. But everyone needs someone to fall back on. Someone they can trust to be there. That was why I left you. You aren’t the guy who sticks around, Finn.”
“I would have for you. I would have stuck for you.”
"All of this is in the past, Finn. What's the point of arguing about it now? It doesn't matter. Andrew is part of my past. And so are you."
"Your past?"
"We're not together anymore," I admit. "I'm sure you already know that."
Finn stares. "I didn't. I just assumed you were still together. You're living in his house."
"Because he gave it to me. As an incentive not to talk to the press. We can't have anything tarnishing the Carrington name, now can we?"
He opens his mouth to say something else but I hold up a hand to stop him. I'm so tired of talking about Andrew. He’s out of my life and I refuse to allow him to take up any more of my time.
"It doesn't matter. We're here to pick out some furniture. So let's do that. You hired me to do a job so let me do it. No more talking about the past. Okay?"
He nods, looking like he's in a daze. But when I turn to walk away, he follows.
CHAPTER FIVE
FINN
I've gotten used to the soft sounds Rissa makes when she's working. But this time when I open my eyes it's to the sound of screaming. Not sure whether what I heard was part of a dream or nightmare, I sit up slowly, my senses on alert. I was up all night thinking about Rissa's stunning declaration yesterday that she's not with Andrew anymore. She's single.
She's mine.
It's impossible to stop my mind from leaping to the most ridiculous end of the spectrum, imagining that because she's free it means that I can have her. Then I hear it again. A scream coming from the living room.
I roll to the side and stumble out of bed, hissing in a harsh breath as all of my weight lands on my right leg. I breathe in and out in shallow pants as the pain slices through me. Then I make my way down the hallway, holding on to the wall for leverage.
