Page 80 of Better Luck Next Time

“Good man! Now what say you we get lunch? My lovely daughter tells me you made quite an impression on her last night, but she mentioned something about a sleep condition?” He raised his eyebrows but thankfully didn’t give Finn a chance to explain. “Lunch is probably more your meal, I’d guess. Charlotte can be here in fifteen minutes. There’s a Bavarian place down the way that serves an excellent cut of meat. Only thing on the menu!”

Mo and Sean exchanged a look that suggested they realized lunch with Bud and Charlotte was not a universally appealing notion, but neither said anything. They wisely recognized who was feeding them. No rescue was coming from that quarter, so Finn decided it was time to put this whole medieval matchmaking effort to rest once and for all.

“My girlfriend would probably never forgive me if I went to a place like that,” he said, slapping Bud on the back. “Go figure. She’s a pescatarian.”

Probably Adalia would object to being called that—the “girlfriend” part, the pescatarian label was factual—but he decided he liked the sound of it.

Bud didn’t, judging by the way his face went red.

“Well,” he sputtered, “this is highly irregular. Your father assured me that you weren’t spoken for.”

Spoken for? What was this,Fiddler on the Roof?

“My father isn’t the greatest authority on my personal life,” he said, getting to his feet. “But hedoesemploy one of the best private chefs in the city, so I hope Charlotte’s evening wasn’t totally wasted.”

He grinned at Mo and Sean, who looked like they were fighting smiles of their own. “I’ll be in touch. I’m not sure if I have a future with your company, but it’s abundantly clear thatyourfuture is bright. You’ve got a good thing going on here.”

Then, because he didn’t want to totally burn a bridge, he offered Bud his hand for a shake. The man shook a little harder than was strictly necessary, but Finn didn’t hold a grudge against his would-be father-in-law.

“Enjoy the meat!” he said on his way out.

Finn found a little restaurant for lunch, choosing a Mexican place (both to ensure he didn’t accidentally run into Bud and Charlotte and because it reminded him of Adalia), and finished his proposal for Gretchen. He sent it over and asked her to call him to discuss it, preferably later that evening or tomorrow because he had a personal commitment (i.e., date) on Wednesday.

By the time he paid the bill, the first irate text had arrived from his father:You told Bud you have a girlfriend?

Yeah,he answered,because I kind of do. Which you knew. Mom knows too, by the way, because I told her this morning. I like Mo and Sean, but I don’t see this working out. For what should be obvious reasons.

And others he didn’t feel like discussing.

Call me before you make any hasty decisions, his father said.There could be a real future for you there, with or without Charlotte. I just wanted to make you understand you have options, Finn. Across the board. Your vision is too limited sometimes.

I like these particular blinders, he said.

His father sent another message that he ignored in favor of writing a text to Adalia:Interesting meeting. Not going to take the job, but there might be some other opportunities with them. If my father’s friend doesn’t have me drawn and quartered for being disinterested in his daughter.

Adalia wrote back immediately, like she’d been waiting:I wouldn’t like you as much if you were drawn and quartered. Messy. Try to avoid it.

A smile tugging at his face, he wrote,I’m looking forward to our mystery date, but any chance you want to get together tonight? You still owe me a viewing of Fast Five.

Adalia:Can’t. I’m having dinner with Jack, a family/housemate thing, and tomorrow night I’m getting that drink with Maisie and Blue. I visited two of the artists this morning, BTW. One was brilliant, and I’m pretty sure the other runs a cult out of her garage. More on that later. I think we have a good roster, maybe just one or two more.

Disappointment tugged at him, but then he saw those three telltale dots.

Maybe I can come over after drinks?she wrote.Tuesday night could lead in to Wednesday?

He needed to put his phone down for a second so he could get himself back under control. Good God, when had any woman ever affected him like this?

The server shot him a concerned look, like maybe he thought he was having some sort of episode, and hurriedly wrote out the bill, slapping it on his table. The jarring sound helped him pull himself together.

What a scandalous suggestion, he wrote.Also, yes. Oh God, yes. I can’t wait to see you.

Even though he wasn’t seeing her tonight, he found himself driving a little faster than usual on the way back to Asheville.

He’d only had a few minutes to unpack his car—an easy thing since it had just been an overnight trip—and order takeout when his phone rang.

He knew Adalia had plans, but he fumbled it out of his pocket, only to see it was Gretchen. Since he’d already made a fool of himself in his haste to answer the call, he did.

“Do you think they’ll go for it?” she asked, no preliminaries. “River left without even taking a meeting with us. And the temperature on the ground has been decidedly cold.”

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