Page 11 of Unsteady: How to Fail at Flirting
“I didn’t think you were the swearing type. You seem so wholesome.”
He takes another bite and thinks about that. “You didn’t see me these past three weeks. Lots and lots of cussing.”
I nod, urging him to tell me everything. I’ve got the time.
Finn unloads.
It’s clear that he needs to.
It’s strange. I’ve always believed myself to be the kind of person who would root for the worker to sue the pants off somebody. Under any circumstances like this, I would wholeheartedly approve of taking the company to the cleaners. The boss, the owner, everyone above their pay grade. But Finn seems more concerned about his employees’ welfare than about his own mental health.
It’s clear to me, as he describes everything, that he’s been shaken by the whole thing. And that he’s had few, if any, friends to talk to about it.
“I’m happy to know someone who takes care of his employees and his contractors,” I say.
“I should’ve inspected it a second time. It’s an old building,” he says, shaking his head.
“You can’t beat yourself up over it forever,” I say.
He shovels the last of his half of the pie into his face. “As soon as I’m done eating my feelings, I’ll stop,” Finn promises.
He’s funny. He makes me laugh. And that’s a damn good explanation for why he went AWOL after making all those promises to me.
But I still have unanswered questions.
“So why are you here now? On a Thursday? You have a business to run.”
“I’m taking a vacation.”
I smile. “I thought you said you didn’t get vacations.”
He answers, “I did say that. But the truth is, I could take one. I just choose not to. Until today.”
I take a bite of my pie, and the sweetness of the ripe strawberries makes me feel like I’m twelve years old, helping Iris’s MiMi make her strawberry jam on the first warm weekend in May.
“Until today, when you chose to start your vacation not at an all-inclusive resort with a piña colada in your hand, but in the middle of our town’s maypole ceremony with a bunch of barefoot weirdos.”
Finn laughs, then leans back in his chair, rubbing his full belly.
That slightly rounded spot, covered by a worn soft white tee shirt under his flannel. As he rubs, a bit of the shirt rides up andreveals a smattering of brown hair. The entrance to the treasure trail.
He catches me staring down at his midsection, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he sits forward, leans over the table, and says, “I decided to take my vacation here, helping you set up your bookstore.”
Six
Finn
Skylar doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m joking.
It takes some time to convince her that I was one hundred percent serious when I told her weeks ago that I wanted to go over her plans.
It’s going to take a lot more convincing for her to take me on as a contractor for free.
One step at a time.
Eventually, we find ourselves at the building that’s going to house Raven’s Books. I don’t tell her the whole truth. That I own the building. We’ll get to that at some point. I know the longer I wait, the more she’ll be confounded, or maybe even upset that I didn’t tell her. But if she doesn’t read the new lease agreement that got sent to her last week, which she signed, and my assistant verified, that’s on her a little bit.
I bought the place sight unseen, so I wasn’t aware of all the necessary work.
