Page 110 of Better Luck Next Time

River winced. “Not unless there’s something I need to tell.”

“I have an idea,” Finn said. He took another sip of tea, somewhat surprised to discover he’d reached the bottom of the cup.

“Oh good, let me take that,” Dottie said, and she did.

A smile curved her lips as she studied the bottom, which looked like nothing but a mess of soggy leaves to Finn’s eyes. “Yes, I think everything will work out just fine.”

He sure hoped so. Because he couldn’t bear to lose Adalia for good.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Adalia had comfortably lived in New York City for over a decade, but now that she was back, she was anxious. It wasn’t just the situation that had brought her there, it was the realization that it no longer felt like home.

Ultimately, the gallery director had given them the choice of a remote meeting or a face-to-face, and Lee had come down hard on them to make the trip. So they had. And now Adalia couldn’t stop tossing and turning in the hotel room she shared with Georgie. Based on the occasional sighs she overheard, her sister wasn’t having an easier time of it.

Finally, Georgie cleared her throat and said, “Addy, are you awake?” in a stage whisper.

Adalia threw a pillow at her. “Does that count as a yes?”

She expected her sister to roll over or maybe ask if she wanted to turn on the TV, but instead she said, “Addy, I think I may have made a huge mistake.”

“For the tenth time,” she said, her tone soft even though her words were not, “I think we handled this as well as we could in the beginning. I feel so much more capable of handling it now.”

Alan was still sending her texts, but his threats felt hollow now that Lee was in direct contact with the gallery. Maybe he’d heard from the gallery that his account had been disputed, because in his last few messages he’d gone back to calling her baby and begging her to at least talk to him, which she’d also ignored.

“No,” Georgie said. “I mean by discouraging you with Finn.”

Adalia’s heart stuttered. The last thing she could handle right now, the night before her meeting with the gallery director, was talking about Finn. She opened her mouth to say so, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“I don’t know what happened between you two,” Georgie continued, “but I was wrong, Addy. He’s good for you. You seemed so happy with him. Happier than I’ve ever seen you. And River says you’re good for him too.” She stared at her across the small distance between their beds, her eyes pleading. “Can you tell me what happened so I can help you work through it?”

Adalia shook her head. “I think I have to do this on my own.”

“Sometimes it’s okay to let people help,” Georgie said softly. “It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It only means you’re blessed to have people care about you.”

Adalia changed the topic after that, asking if Georgie was interested in watchingGolden Girlsreruns, and they both fell asleep listening to the theme song. She dreamed about Finn.

They met Lee for breakfast the next morning, sans Victoria, thank goodness. “Just stick to the facts like we practiced,” he said, his expression grave. They’d already ordered food, although Adalia wasn’t so sure she could eat. “And if they don’t ask something, don’t volunteer the information.”

Adalia nodded, fingering the short strand of pearls around her neck. Georgie had insisted she wear it along with the dark gray sheath dress she’d borrowed.

Georgie, who sat next to her in an equally “serious” navy blue dress, nodded. “Agreed. Just stick to the facts.”

Adalia frowned. “You both look like I’m about to march off to my execution, and I feel like I’m already dressed for the funeral.” She tugged lightly on the pearls. “Are you sure these are necessary?”

“They make you look more mature,” Lee said, then quickly added, “Not that I’m suggesting you’re not. But you’re trying to make an impression here. We have to make sure it’s a good one.”

“You thought I’d show up in my overalls and headband?” She was teasing, sort of, but that was her outfit of choice in Asheville now, since she spent most of her time working in Blue’s studio…well, now partially her studio too, since she’d pinned Blue down on paying her fair share for the space.

Now that she’d cut back at the brewery and was only working the part-time hours the position required, she was constantly at the studio with Tyrion, working on her sculptures. Or digging through dumpsters or taking Bessie to the junkyard or flea markets. Of course, she had to work around Blue’s yoga classes. She covered her work with sheets before visitors came to the studio, and Blue, genius that she was, had apparently incorporated them into her classes, telling her students they represented the unseen baggage they were carrying.

Her art had helped fill the Finn-shaped void in her heart. Somewhat. But she still missed him like crazy. She’d had a week to figure out there was no way Finn had only spent time with her because he was on some one-man mission to fix her. He’d truly enjoyed her company—both in and out of his bed. Altruism didn’t spark the heat she’d felt between them. Nor did it make two people laugh so hard they doubled over with it.

She’d tried not to show Georgie how much her words last night had affected her, but they’d dug in deep.

Sending him that text last weekend had been the coward’s way out. But while the act of texting such a thing rather than communicating it in person was wrong, she stood by the message. She needed time to sort herself out. She’d come to Asheville broken, and Finn deserved someone who was whole.

The sad part was she’d never believed in soul mates—in two people who belonged together, cosmically speaking—but now that she’d lost Finn, she wondered if she’d been wrong. Maybe it didn’t matter. She couldn’t help thinking she would have lost him eventually anyway.

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