Page 43 of Better Luck Next Time

Which he had, of course, so maybe that death card had signified real death after all.

They headed out of the coffee shop at a quarter till three, since the first meeting was at the artist’s somewhat out-of-the-way home studio. He didn’t really know much, except that Dottie had said the woman’s farm animals inspired her work. People liked animals, and it sounded like it would be an ideal fit, what with the animal shelter being the charitable cause attached to the first show.

“Are you okay with taking my car?” he asked as they left the coffee shop. Adalia’s car was parked out front, and it looked like it was even more on the verge of falling apart than it had been the last time he’d seen it.

She burst into laughter. “Is that a serious question? I may be fond of Bessie, but she’s a workhorse, not a stallion. I won’t pass up a ride in your Wunderbus.”

More innuendo. She certainly wasn’t making the whole “let’s be friends” thing easy on him, but then again that was one of the things he liked about her. She constantly challenged him, and she was no easier on herself. It made being around Adalia feel like an adventure, like anything could happen and probably would.

He led the way to his green Range Rover. “All aboard the Wunderbus.”

Chapter Fifteen

Finn plugged the address into his GPS and pulled out of his parking spot, giving Adalia the opportunity to watch him without being called out for it.

There was no doubt that Finn was good-looking, and despite his current existential crisis, he had an air of confidence she admired. Still, it was obvious he was floundering. He was trying to figure out who he was without Big Catch, just as she was trying to figure out who she was without art.

He wasn’t the usual kind of guy she went for. She tended to shy away from business types—suits, she called them—because usually they were far too much like her father, but Finn was fun when he let his guard down. And he was far from unemotional. He’d certainly surprised her with the gift of her new studio, along with the bombshell that they could only be friends.

That had come out of left field, because if there was one thing Adalia was good at, it was figuring out if a guy was interested in her. Finn definitely was. So why was he holding back?

Because of Georgie and River? That didn’t seem like him. Maybe he thought he and Adalia were just too different. He was rich—the Range Rover and his clothing would have proven that even if she hadn’t already known—and she was cash poor. Her own car was her Exhibit A. But that didn’t track either. He and River weren’t on equal economic footing, and they were close friends.

No, he was probably hesitant to cross the friendship line because he thought she was unstable. Heavens knew she’d given him plenty of reasons to think that.

So why had he asked her to help him with the show? Was it because he felt sorry for her? Because he saw her as a project? Maybe, but she suspected there was more to it than that.

He put his car into drive and pulled away from the curb. She watched as his gaze flicked to his rearview mirror before returning to the windshield, his focus complete. She liked that about him. He never seemed to do anything by halves.

Then he took notice of her staring and his cheeks flushed.

He cleared his throat. “How’s it going living with Jack?”

“Surprisingly well,” she said. “We had a couple of awkward days, but then a family dinner and karaoke seemed to push us over that hurdle.”

“Let me guess. You were the one who came up with the karaoke,” he said with a laugh.

“What better way to take a man’s measure than to make him sing in front of a crowd of strangers? Turns out Jack Durand knows how to wow a crowd. Especially the ladies.” A frown stole across her face. “But he was a little off at dinner on Friday night, and when Georgie brought out a cake for dessert, he announced that he was taking a red-eye to Chicago for some kind of personal emergency. I mean, I think he probably had to drive all the way to Charlotte to catch the flight. This time he says he’ll only be gone for the weekend, but who knows. Last time a few weeks became a few months. Isn’t that weird?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, his tone distant.

“I mean, if he’d done it after Jezebel leapt on the cake, I’d be more understanding,” she said.

“I overheard your brother talking on the phone,” he said in a rush, as if the words were chasing each other out of his mouth. “It sounded to me like maybe he has a secret girlfriend or something in Chicago.”

It seemed like he was holding something back, but he left it at that and she didn’t press. She’d come to the same conclusion anyway. A secret girlfriend or a life of crime or a hidden identity as a superhero. Whatever it was, he didn’t want them to know and she didn’t intend to press. Not yet.

“Probably,” she said. “From what I’ve heard, you’d know plenty about secret girlfriends.” She said it like she was teasing, but his history bothered her some. After Jack’s weird declaration and Jezebel’s destruction of the cake, Georgie had pulled her outside to caution her about Finn.

I’m glad you’re making friends, Adalia, I am, but don’t forget what he did to River. And River says he’s dated probably half the women in this town. I’m not saying people can’t change, but they usually don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt again.

She’d brushed aside Georgie’s words, assuring her that Finn had made his intentions known—the whole “just friends” thing—but the description had nagged at her. Enough so that she’d called Dottie this morning to pump her for information about him. She’d certainly regretted it after Dottie launched into a long speech about how “an experienced lover was a talented lover.”

Finn was no pompous flake. Nor was he the self-centered, egotistical asshole he’d been portrayed to be in theGazetteand on social media. (Even his bitchy hairdresser had attacked him!) The jerk they’d portrayed wouldn’t have cared so much about a woman he barely knew and claimed he didn’t want to sleep with. He wouldn’t have taken it in stride when he realized she wasn’t going to use the studio he’d gone to such trouble to create for her.

“I’ve never kept anyone a secret,” he said softly, his eyes focused ahead. “But yeah, I guess you can say I’ve dated a lot. Guilty as charged.”

He said that last part like he was making a joke, but she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe she’d hurt him. It wasn’t what she’d set out to do, so she changed the subject.

---