Page 7 of Any Luck at All

Although River had ditched his suit the first chance he got, Finn was still wearing his. Of course, Finn was the kind of guy who wore suits well, just like Junior from earlier, only not an asshole.

“I’ll callyoulater,” Finn said to the blonde with the pigtails, and the two women took off, Finn’s date looking over her shoulder.

“Let me guess,” River said, waiting for them to be out of hearing, “you told her you’re a big catch.”

“Ha. Ha,” Finn said. “Very funny. You’re lucky that, loss of Beau aside, I’m in a very good mood.” He slid a pint across the table to him. “Beau Brown. I thought it only appropriate.” He picked up his own drink, a pint of the same, and they clinked glasses.

“To Beau.”

River’s throat felt a little thick at that, but he took a swig. Beau had been eighty-seven, for God’s sake. They didn’t have much reason to complain, did they?

Somehow that didn’t matter like it should.

“Sorry, buddy,” Finn said, some of his good humor deflating. “He was one of a kind.”

River’s mind shot to the will reading again, to the spectacle of it. Part of him wanted to tell Finn, who would surely laugh at the Buchanans. Joking around was what he did best. But he didn’t want to talk about it yet, and in a weird way, he didn’t want to laugh about it either. Which was why he changed the subject instead. “So the meeting went well, I take it?”

Finn’s grin would have been answer enough. “Better than well.”

“What was it about, anyway? Wider product placement? I know you’ve been chasing that down lately.”

“No, man. It was a rep from Bev Corp.”

Bev Corp, as in the largest multinational beer company in the world.

Bev Corp, as in where creativity went to die.

“Why the hell did you meet withthem?” he asked, already bristling.

“Now, River, I know how you and Dottie feel about big corporations and all that noise, but wait until you hear what they offered me. Us. They want you too. They’re going to give you a huge bonus once I sign.”

Once I sign.He’d already made the decision.

This meant Big Catch wasn’t theirs anymore, except the fact that Finn had made this decision without even talking to him first—hell, he’d accepted the meeting without telling him—meant it had never been his at all. This likely wasn’t the work of one meeting either. How long had Finn been talking to them?

All of the emotions River had been trying not to feel since Beau died seemed to pour into him at once, only he felt pissed off instead of sad.

“Was I the last one to know about this?” he asked, not caring that his voice had risen. Hadn’t Tom acted weird earlier? As if he knew something River didn’t?

“It’s not like that,” Finn said. “I wouldn’t agree to anything that wasn’t in your best interest too. You know me better than to think that. Come on, just hear me—”

River stood up then, pushing his chair back a little harder than he’d intended. The emotional support Chihuahua yelped and jumped into the arms of its owner—a huge tattooed man with a bald head.

“Hey, back off!” the man shouted. “You scared Princess Leia!”

“Dude,” he said, staring the guy down, “we all know that’s not an emotional support dog. The little vest isn’t fooling anyone.”

The guy took a step toward him, a threat that was somewhat undermined by the Chihuahua cuddled in his arms. She was wearing a pink tutu beneath the vest.

River burst out laughing at the absurdity of it, at the absurdity oflife, which apparently offended the guy because he came barreling toward him. At first he thought the dude would try to punch him, which he’d maybe even welcome, but Princess Leia was still cradled in his arms. Instead, Baldy tried to kick him in the shins, and River jumped over his huge feet as if he were a girl playing double Dutch, which was when Finn intervened.

“Leia’s not much of an emotional support dog if you’re kicking my friend while you’re holding her, now is she? Why don’t you sit down before I find Dottie. I have a feeling she won’t be too pleased with your behavior. You do know River’s her great-nephew, don’t you?”

The fear on the guy’s face indicated he was a local because he obviously knew better than to piss off Aunt Dottie. Not that she’d rage at him or bonk him over the head or anything like that—violence wasn’t her style. But he might find himself suckered into an hour-long meditation session in the back room, which smelled like dank hops and stale bread. Her cleansing tonics were also infamous. Although not on the menu, she offered them to guests who seemed unduly upset or angry. No one made that mistake twice.

Baldy set down Princess Leia with an affectionate pat, then lifted his hands palm up. “Sorry, man. I had no idea you were related to Dottie. Only good energy here. Namaste.”

As he turned away, looking over his shoulder as if he feared Aunt Dottie might be onto him, Finn gave River a tentative smile. Normally, he would have smiled back and they would have laughed about all of this later. But the trust they’d had was broken, and for River, trust was everything.

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