Page 45 of Better Luck Next Time

She nodded, still nervous. She hadn’t given this part much thought when she’d agreed to help him. But contrary to what a lot of people thought, she wasn’t flighty and she took her commitments very seriously. She’d asked River about Maisie’s animal shelter, and it sounded remarkable. It only made Adalia that much more anxious about everything. She could potentially let a lot of people down, and Finn was the first in line. She understood he needed this to be successful to get back into the city’s good graces, and to boost his battered ego.

“Don’t overthink it, Addy. Okay?”

She gave him a warm smile. He always seemed to know the right thing to say, like he could see through all of her crap and seeher.

He reached over the gate and unlatched it, then put a hand at the small of her back to guide her through.

She ignored the warmth that spread from the spot, the way her body seemed more alive when he touched her. Danger lay that way.

“Who’s out there?” a woman called out from the back of the property.

“It’s Finn Hamilton,” he said. “I’m with Adalia Buchanan. I have an appointment with you at three.”

“Oh!” An older woman emerged from a thick clump of trees and walked toward them. She was wearing an oversized white button-down shirt, like Adalia used to wear in grade school art class. It was covered in splotches of paint in various colors. “The art show thingy.”

“That’s right, ma’am, the Asheville Art Display ,” Finn said congenially as they walked closer. “Dottie Hendrickson suggested you might be a good fit for us.”

The woman couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, but she was tottering on platform shoes with three-inch heels. Purple leggings peeked out from under her shirt. Her hair was as white as snow and piled into a messy bun atop her head and her face was covered in wrinkles, likely from too much sun, but her dark eyes were sharp as she surveyed them.

Glancing at Finn, she said, “I knowyou’republic enemy number one in Asheville, bringing the big bad wolf to our door. But you’re cute, so you get a pass.” Her gaze landed on Adalia. “Who are you?”

Adalia’s eyes widened slightly. Finn had literally just told her. “Adalia Buchanan.”

The woman waved her hand dismissively with an irritated look. “I know that already. What’s your claim to fame?”

“Excuse me?” Adalia asked.

“I’ve heard your name before.”

“Adalia’s an artist,” Finn said, his brow furrowed. “Perhaps that’s how you’ve heard of her.”

“Nope. That’s not it,” she grumbled as a bleating sound came from the trees she’d emerged from. “It was something notorious.”

The color drained from Adalia’s face. Had this woman heard about her arrest? How? And if she knew, did that mean her father knew? And Lee?

Finn lightly cupped Adalia’s elbow and said, “Maybe you’ve heard of her from Buchanan Brewery. Adalia and her siblings inherited it from Beau.”

“That’s it,” the woman said, snapping her fingers. “You Northerners came down and took over Beau’s business. Almost worse than Bev Corp.”

“Ms. Price,” Finn said, his voice a little tighter now. “The show will be at the Buchanan events room.”

“So?”

“You don’t have any problems showing your pieces at a business owned by figurative carpetbaggers?”

She shrugged. “I’ll deal with it as long as you’re there. You’ll be there, right?”

Whatever was in the trees bleated again, followed by a chorus of answering bleats.Were those goats?

“Uh, yeah,” Finn said, his hand still on Adalia’s elbow.

“Good, I’ll need a date,” she said.

Adalia snorted at the woman’s presumptuousness, then quickly covered it by clearing her throat. This woman was something else. It was hard to imagine Dottie even being friends with her.

Be the bigger person, Adalia.

“We would love to see some of your pieces,” she said evenly and quite maturely, proud of herself for not kicking the woman in the shins. Like a grown-up.

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