Page 22 of Better Luck Next Time

Maisie glanced at her watch again, then slapped some cash down on the table.

“We’ll talk about the show later, Finn. Thank you. And please, please don’t say anything to River.”

Then she was gone, and Finn was sitting in front of two margaritas.

“See, I told you he was a drunk,” he heard a woman say in a stage whisper to her friend. Finn raised the drink as if toasting her, winked, and took a big sip. Her scandalized gasp put him in mind of Adalia and her game.

God, being around her this afternoon had made him feel so good, as if his worries had suddenly been lifted off his shoulders. He wished she were here now so they could come up with a story for Karen at the other table. So he could tell her about the weirdness with Maisie, and she could help him figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to River.

Nothingwas the appropriate answer. But he was terrible at keeping secrets. Sure, he’d kept the whole Bev Corp thing mum, but that was business, and business had always been something different for him. Something separate.

By the time River showed up, Finn had started in on Maisie’s margarita and the basket of chips was down to the dregs.

They hugged, and River seemed genuinely glad to see him, but Finn felt weighed down by what he knew. Maybe it would be better if he told? If River knew, he and Maisie could have an honest conversation at least, and that would be for the best, right? Keeping secrets certainly hadn’t done any favors for him in his friendship with River.

“Something wrong?” A corner of River’s mouth tipped up. “I mean besides the whole being tarred and feathered thing.”

“Um…”

Maisie was supposed to come, but she ran away because she found out you were coming. She’s in love with you, I think.

“No,” he said slowly. “But I do want to proposition Georgie’s sister.”

Wait, that hadn’t come out right.

River raised his brow. “Say what?”

Finn fidgeted. “Sorry. I meant, I do have a proposition for Georgie’s sister.” River was still looking at him funny, so he hastened to add, “A work thing.”

He spent the next several minutes explaining his idea, Dottie’s contribution, and his hope that Adalia would play a role, the conversation only halting, briefly, when the waitress came by to take their orders.

“I think Georgie will be pumped,” River said. “It’ll be great for the brewery, plus I know she’s been worried about Adalia. Other than the stuff she’s done for Buchanan, which is amazing, she hasn’t picked up a paintbrush or made as much as a magnet since coming here.”

Finn wished there was such a thing as jaw glue. Did River really not know that Adalia had been working in Dottie’s studio? Did that mean Dottie hadn’t told him?

If not, then this was yet another thing Finn was supposed to shut up about. It felt a little like torture, knowing things you shouldn’t.

You kept the Bev Corp negotiations secret. You’re capable of shutting up if the situation requires it. And ding, ding, the situation requires it!

River frowned. “How’d you know about her art, anyway?”

“Something’s up with Maisie,” Finn blurted out.

Shit. It was like all of the various secrets he knew had vied to come out of his mouth first, and that one had won.

“What?” River asked, in genuine shock. And no wonder. He hadn’t known Maisie was in on the whole dinner invite, so Finn’s comment must have seemed like it had come out of nowhere.

“I asked her to come to dinner, and she showed up, but she left when she found out you were coming,” he said in a rush of words.

River cursed, his expression darkening. “I thought she was avoiding me again, but I guess I didn’t want to believe it.”

Finn didn’t want to betray her further by saying anything else—hadn’t he already made everything worse?—so he just said, “I think you should talk to her. We’re going to donate the proceeds of the first show to the shelter. Which means we should probably get her to come.”

“Oh, I’ll talk to her,” River said. “I’ll tell her Hops is sick or something. She might turn me away, but she’d never refuse to help a dog.”

There was something a little bitter in his tone, and Finn wanted to tell him he was getting it wrong, that Maisie was staying away out of self-preservation, but he’d already crossed enough lines. He’d do best to stay silent.

Right?

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