Page 47 of Better Luck Next Time

“I’m sure you can’t,” Stella said, then cocked her head, “but this is my own sovereign nation. Stellaland.”

“You don’t say.” Then, because Adalia couldn’t help herself, she asked, “Do you have your own flag?”

Snorting, Stella said, “What self-respecting country doesn’t have a flag?”

But she made no offer to show it to them.

“Uh…” Finn had shuffled to the side in an effort to dissuade the goat, but it just followed him as he stopped in front of a painting that seemed darker than the rest. It showed a chicken lying on the ground with specks of blood, while a dozen or so other chickens were in the process of stabbing it with forks.

“Oh,” Stella said, pleased that Finn was studying it. “You’ve found my favorite. I call that oneDinner.”

Adalia covered her mouth and fake-coughed to hide a laugh. She had been exposed to all kinds of art and artistic interpretations over the years, but this was by far the craziest thing she’d ever seen.

“Well,” Finn said, taking a step back and bumping into another goat that was chewing on a paint-covered brush. “I think we’ve seen enough.”

“So I’m in?” Stella asked as she tried to wrestle the paintbrush from the goat’s teeth.

“Well…” Finn shot a panicked look at Adalia, and she decided to ignore the everyone-for-themselves motto and help him out.

As if there had ever been any doubt that she would.

“Stella, while your paintings sendquitea message, I’m not sure they’ll be a good fit for the first show.”

“Why the hell not?” Stella asked, propping a hand on her hip as she continued to wrestle with the goat.

Adalia screwed on her best professional face. “The first charity is for a no-kill animal shelter. I’m sure a perceptive woman such as yourself can see how some patrons might find it…slightly offensive.”

“What?” she asked with a confused look, then rolled her eyes. “No one appreciates good art these days.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Adalia said. “Thank you so much for showing us your pieces and we’ll definitely keep you in mind for future events.”

Stella winked at Finn. “I can wrap that one up for you if you like. All for the low price of twenty-five hundred dollars.”

Finn’s eyes widened, and Adalia looped her arm through his.

“He’s sworn off making impulse purchases. A little too much online shopping.” She tugged him, but the goat had a firm bite on Finn’s belt.

Trying not to laugh at Finn’s panicked expression, she yanked his arm, pulling him free, then dragged him down the steps to the yard.

“You’re an online shopper?” Stella screeched, as though it was synonymous with being an ax murderer.

“We’ve got our work cut out for us with this one,” Adalia called over her shoulder.

Then she got them the hell out of there.

Chapter Sixteen

“You saved my life back there,” Finn said once they were safely in the car, heading away from Stella’s goat farm slash studio of horrors. They’d walked and then run, both of them laughing (once they were at a safe distance), hands linked together. God, he’d wanted to swing her around and kiss her, but he’d silently repeated his mantra—just friends, just friends, just friends—and opened the door for her instead. “I won’t forget that. We’re linked for life now.”

“Weren’t we already?” Adalia said, referring to the reading. They’d avoided talking about that, like maybe it was bad luck, although he wasn’t sure what it was they were trying to skirt around: the possibility Lola could be right or that she might be wrong.

“I guess so,” he said. “But now I owe you one.”

“Ooo,” she said, lifting up her hands and tapping her fingers together in the universal gesture of evil overlords everywhere. “I like the sound of that.”

And if that didn’t shoot a wave of lust through him…

To distract himself, he said, “Are we really going to risk going to the next appointment?”

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