Page 26 of Twist of Fate
As we approach the front of the line, I notice Finn helping an older woman on the bus.
“Need help, Larkin,” a voice calls out from inside.
“I think we’ve got it handled, Collin. Don’t we, Ms. Carroll?” His eyes sparkle as he gazes down at the silver-haired lady.
“Yes, dear. Thank you.” She pats his hand as she clears the last step, and he jogs back down, his agile body making it look effortless.
“Good morning to you, Paul and Tina. Sleep well, did you?” He greets the couple in front of us.
Does he know everyone’s name? It’s been barely twelve hours. I can’t decide if that’s impressive or unsettling. I’m leaning toward the latter because I’m mad at him, and he doesn’t deserve any more accolades this morning.
“Ms. Farrell.” My eyes jerk up only to realize he’s addressing my mother. Of course, he is.
“Call me Deidre, please.” She grins from ear to ear.
“Can I give you a hand?” he offers, already holding out his large hand to her.
My mom is spry for her age. She walks several miles a day when she’s home and participates in charity walks during February for breast cancer awareness. She needs assistance on that bus about as much as I do.
“Absolutely!” She practically jumps at him.
I’m starting to wonder if that small crush I had on Finn has rubbed off on my mother. That, or she’s doing some serious meddling. He takes her hand and leads her to the couch as I fold my arms across my chest. When he returns, our eyes meet, and his steps falter.
“Aisling,” he simply says.Oh, so apparently, he can see me.
I roll my eyes and push past him, joining my mother, who’s already settled about four rows back. We have assigned seating that rotates daily to give each of us a chance to sit closer to the front. At first, I didn’t understand why—like, don’t all the cool kids hang out in the back of the bus? My mom explained that the front seat—or the hot seat, as she likes to call it—offers pretty incredible views, especially when we get out to the countryside.
As the last guest settles in and Finn boards, taking the seat directly behind the driver, all I notice is how close the hot seat is to our hot tour guide and how incredibly cramped the bus suddenly feels.
* * *
Today is our only day in Dublin.
We spend a decent portion of it on the bus, as Finn gives us our own private tour of the city.
Two solid hours of Finn’s lilting voice over the loudspeaker. It feels like my worst nightmare and my secret fantasy, all rolled into one. Add in the fact that he’s really damn good at his job, and I kind of just want to punch him right in his stupid, handsome face.
As we move through the city, he points out historical landmarks, major and minor. I can decipher the difference because my mom’s face lights up every time she learns of a new one. He tells fascinating stories to accompany each one and flawlessly weaves in tiny facets about himself in the process.
Things I learned about Finn, the tour guide, this morning: he’s a Dublin native who speaks three fucking languages—English, French, and Irish. All fluently. Of fucking course. He’s a graduate of Trinity, or “Trinny,” as the locals like to call it. He’s a rugby player and must be decent because he mentions playing in college.
“You a football fan?” one of the guys calls out from the back of the bus.
Finn grins and tilts his head back to the mic. “It depends on what kind of football you mean. In Ireland, there’s only one.”
My stomach clenches.
I look out the window, wishing I could unlock it and crawl right out.
“Any predictions on the World Cup?”
My mom’s hand wraps around mine, and I fight the urge to pull it away. I know she’s trying to be supportive, but it feels stifling.
I came here to escape my old life. I should have realized that traveling to Europe, the epicenter of soccer, would be a bad place to do it.
I tear my gaze from the window and meet Finn’s intense stare. Concern lingers in the creases of his brow before he shifts his focus back to the sports fan in the back.
“I, uh,” he stutters. “I don’t follow it enough to make those kinds of guesses—rugby is my first love. But I’m always hoping Ireland will see some action.”
