Page 30 of Any Luck at All

“Yes and no,” he said, his tone softer than it had been, “but you let me down by not talking to me. And I still quit. I’ll give Gladys a call to work out details and pick up some of my stuff today or tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Finn said, “I accept that.” He got up from the table and pushed his chair in, then shot a longing look at the cinnamon buns.

“Go ahead,” River said with a wave. His aunt had brought a good dozen.

Finn nodded and scooped one up with a napkin. “So where does this leave us?” he asked. It wasn’t the kind of question Finn usually asked—to the point where River almost wanted to tease him about it, but he wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I don’t trust you right now, and I don’t know if I ever will again.”

He saw the hurt on Finn’s face, but he didn’t back down. Couldn’t. They both knew he meant it.

“Well, I heard something about you working with the Buchanans.”

River just nodded.

“Word to the wise. Bev Corp wouldn’t be opposed to buying them out as a second location for Big Catch.”

And he’d thought calling themthe devilwas putting it too strongly?

“Thank you, Finn. But I think it’s time you leave,” he said flatly, stepping aside.

Finn walked past him, Aunt Dottie calling out, “Lovely to see you, dear! Consider what I said about seeing Lola. I’ve never had such a spot-on reading. No better time to go than when you’re at a crossroads.”

“Thanks, Dottie. I’ll keep it in mind,” he intoned. He looked back at River once before he left. “Cute dog.”

The as-yet-unnamed puppy was humping a discarded sandal.

Then the door closed and Finn was gone, probably out of River’s life too. Which hurt more than he would have liked.

Focus on the new job.

So why did he find himself thinking of Georgie? Wondering if she’d like the puppy better than she did Beau’s mostly evil cat? Wondering if he was making the right call even if he needed—and really, really wanted—the job?

Because you’re an idiot, that’s why. And Finn knows it too. That’s why he didn’t talk to you about this while Beau was dying. He thought you’d fall apart.

“I recognize that look,” Aunt Dottie said knowingly. “Beau’s granddaughter is quite lovely, isn’t she?”

“Really?” he said, stooping to pet the dog—and remove the sweater. It was, after all, the beginning of June, but Aunt Dottie did love her knitting. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You know how I feel about lying, River.”

He glanced up at her and smiled. Something told him everything was—currently—going according to her plans. But she had to know he couldn’t, or at least really, really shouldn’t, notice how beautiful Georgie Buchanan was if he intended to accept her job offer.

“You asked a rhetorical question. Anyone with eyes can see she’s beautiful. It’s only after talking to her for a while that you realize she’s also brilliant, kind, and funny.”

Aunt Dottie’s eyes lit up. “I knew it! The pink crystal wanted to go to her. It sensed there was something between you.”

“Well, Aunt Dottie, you might want to rethink your interpretation. That pink crystal nearly ended up smashing my brains in.”

He told her about the way he and Georgie had officially met last night. They relocated to the table, and he ended up telling her a whole lot more, ending with the offer she and Jack had made.

“I guess I’m going to take it,” he said, “although I can’t say it doesn’t suck.”

“What makes you think you can’t romance her if you work with her?”

Leave it to his aunt to put it like that.

“Well, there are rules about that kind of thing,” he said.

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