Finn's Shot (Eden's Odyssey Book 1) (10 page)

****

When I arrive back in the city, I park my car at my
building, grab my license and debit card and haul my ass to Buddy’s Bar. Today
was a long day, and I need a drink. When I arrive, the place is packed, so I
squeeze in down near the far end of the bar on the only empty stool and order
my drink. It’s rare for me to feel the need to get blotto, but I’m definitely
feeling it now. I pound the first three straight whiskeys, allowing the burn to
eat at my throat with satisfaction. I accept a shot of patron from a stranger
down at the other end, and then switch to diet coke and rum with a twist of
lime. It was my mother’s favorite drink and one I picked up over the years. At
one point, Frankie, the bartender, tries to cut me off, but I throw such a fit
that he gives me one any way. My vision is starting to blur, and I’m feeling a
little woozy, so I lay my head on the bar top, thinking if I rest my eyes for a
minute I’ll feel better.

****

The pounding in my brain is equivalent to sitting in a small
room as a marching band has practice inside. A little disoriented as I open my
eyes, I note that I’m lying on top of my covers with a t-shirt on I don’t recognize
and nothing else. Thank God I’m in my room, but where did I get this t-shirt?
My mouth tastes like cat puke and is so dry it almost hurts. I roll to my side
facing the door to find a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. I swallow a
slug of water and down the two white pills. Then I fall to my back. That took
too much energy. My stomach rolls over like I might be sick, so I adjust myself
to a sitting position and try to remember how I ended up like this.

As I’m contemplating this, Finn freaking Thompson steps out
of my bathroom in nothing but a tiny towel. The little bit of fabric barely
covering his hips draws my attention, and I can’t help but stare.

What the hell?

“I see you finally woke up. I was starting to get worried. I
hope you didn’t have anywhere to be, because it’s one in the afternoon. Did you
take the aspirin I left you?”

He glances toward the bedside table and answers his own
question, “I’m glad you did. How do you feel?”

“Like shit.” I squint up at
him, wondering if I conjured him out of thin air.

“How did you end up here,
Finn?”

“Well, I stopped by Buddy’s to have a beer after the game.
While I was there I found out you’d passed out on the bar and needed a ride home.
Frank was searching the contact list in your cell phone for someone to call to
come get you when I appeared. Afraid he’d call your grandma or something, I
offered to take you home.”

“How’d you get me here?”

“I carried you.”

Cocking my head, I ask for
clarification, “The whole way?”

“Yes, I was afraid you’d puke
in my truck so I figured walking it would be better.”

I groan and drop back to the mattress, which may be soft,
but not soft enough to flop my head on with a massive hangover.
Ugh.

“I’m sorry. I wish you called
Charles or James or someone to come get me.”

“There was no way I was calling that fucker James to come
get you, and I’m sure Charles was busy with the club and didn’t need to be
running after you.”

“James is a good guy. Don’t
be a jerk.”

“He’s a pussy. He wants you, but he’s not man enough to
fight for you. No way was I leaving you to him.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re
still here.”

“I wasn’t sure how bad you were, and I didn’t want to leave
you unconscious and alone. It didn’t seem safe.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry about that. You can go now. I’m sorry
I ruined your night or morning or both. Sometimes I’m a real dumbass. I had an
awful day yesterday, so I ended up at Buddy’s when I should’ve come home.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I’ve been to morning skate and
eaten breakfast. I came back because I was worried.”

“I’ll be okay after the
marching band in my head takes a break.”

He steps into my closet and comes out wearing a pair of baggy
mesh basketball shorts and no shirt. Dear God, shirtless Finn should be against
the law. 

He sits down next to me on the
bed and inquires, “Who is Georgia?”

I close my eyes as the weight
settles back in my stomach.

“My sister.”    

“What’s wrong with her?”

“We don’t know. I’m sure Doc
thinks she’s dying but is afraid to tell me.”

“Does she have cancer?”

“No, she’s got Down syndrome and a plethora of medical
problems. I went to see her yesterday at the facility where she lives. It’s two
hours away. Doc told me he needs to insert a feeding tube since she won’t eat.
She didn’t say a word to me yesterday. That’s not like her at all. It was a
rough visit.”

Tears slip from my eyes and roll unchecked down my cheeks,
so I turn away from him and wipe them away. Finn pulls me into his side and
wraps his arms around me. His big body is warm and comforting against mine.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is
quiet and sincere.

“For what?” 

“That you are hurting and your sister’s sick. For being a
dick.” His sapphire eyes blaze with sincerity and it feels like too much to
deal with right now.

I don’t say anything, because I’m not sure which time he’s
talking about and my head hurts too much to contemplate it.

I try to push away from him. His compassion for me right now
is too much. “You can go. Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry your night was
ruined.”

“It wasn’t ruined; I would’ve
been thinking about you anyway,” he says.

I close my eyes. “Don’t. It
took me the whole week to stop crying.”

“I want to talk, about us, when
you’re feeling a little better. I brought you something to eat and some
Gatorade. You need it. Come on. Let me feed you.” His voice is sweet,
comforting.

I look up at him, noticing
that his hair is a little wilder than the last time I saw him, and I wonder
when he last had a haircut. The room smells of biscuits and bacon.

My stomach threatens to
revolt, and it must show on my face, because he encourages me, “Come on, take a
few bites. Once you get these down, you’ll feel better and can take a shower.”

“Do you play tonight?”

“Yes. Do you have to work?”

“No, but I planned to go in
to check on things. I obviously wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Can you come to my game and
maybe have dinner with me after?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want
to go through what I went through last time.” I set the biscuit down, feeling
less like eating than before.

“Nothing’s changed. We’re
still the same people with the same challenges.”

“Maybe. But maybe I’m willing
to bend a little. Can we talk about it? If we can come to an agreement, will you
consider coming to my game and having dinner with me after?”

I’m wary, but hopeful. I
won’t tell him about the hopeful part. “Let’s see how this talk goes, but can
it wait until after I shower? I feel gross.” 

He kisses my forehead and
heads to the kitchen to throw away his remaining crust.

After consuming my breakfast
and showering, I’m sitting on my couch wearing yoga pants and a comfy well-worn
Cubs sweatshirt. I’m wringing my hands with nervous energy as I wait to have
‘the talk’ with Finn. I can’t imagine what’s changed even a little bit in the
last week since he stormed out of my office.

Finn comes out of the kitchen
where he’s just finished the dishes. He tosses the dish towel he was wiping his
hands on back into the kitchen and I watch as his long strides carry him to the
chair to the right of the couch. He sits down looking more relaxed than I’ve
ever seen him before. I smile for an instant noticing that his body dwarfs the
poor little chair.

“First I want to ask a couple
of questions, okay?”

I nod hesitantly.

“How did you come to own a
sex club?”

I let out the breath I was
holding, relieved this is the first question. This is easy for me to answer.

“It’s random. My mom
inherited a big sum of money after the death of my grandmother and deposited it
in the bank. She sat on the money like a golden goose egg, using it for
emergencies and Georgia’s many expenses. When she died, I inherited it. I’m
educated enough to understand that letting a significant amount of money sit in
the bank is not my best move. I mentioned that I was looking for creative
investment opportunities during dinner with Doc and his family. I was dating
his son at the time. A week later Doc contacted me and asked to meet me in
person to discuss something personal. During our lunch, he proposed me buying
Eden’s Odyssey. He brought financial statements and offered to take me on a tour.
At first I was appalled and a little creeped out he’d even mentioned this, but
when I got a look at the financials I realized I’d be stupid not to at least
check it out. I toured the place two days later and was half freaked out and
half curious.”

Eyes round with shock he
asks, “Doc owned Eden?”

I nod before I inquire, “How
do you know Doc?”

“Doc’s family has been
friends with Bobby’s family for years. I met him right after I got traded here.
That’s how Bobby found out about Eden.”

“Well, Doc’s wife knew about
him owning Eden; she’s been part of the club scene for years, but his children
did not and still do not know. He was afraid something would happen to him and
the kids would find out, so he was looking to sell.

With our little black dresses
on, Tanisha and I went to take the tour, I was not going alone. At first I was
shocked and then intrigued. After the first night with Tanisha, when I realized
it wasn’t some freaky place I visited every night for a week and shadowed the
manager, trying to get an idea of what my daily responsibilities would be. By
the end of the week, I decided it was a great investment, had a very good
reputation and would allow me to take care of Georgia and continue to paint
almost full time. I had my lawyer look over everything, and when he agreed it
was legit, I bought the place.

“So what did Doc’s son say
about all this? He wasn’t supposed to know his dad owned a sex club. How did
you get around it?” His eyebrows knit in confusion.

“Our relationship was already
on the rocks, so when I decided to buy Eden, I broke it off with him. The week
I signed the papers, I quit my waitressing job and took over full ownership.
Doc mentored me for a year while I learned the business and made some changes
of my own. Then I hired James to help take some of the pressure off and allow
me more time to paint and visit with Georgia.” The left side of my lips pull up
in a half grin as I remember my first year of ownership of Eden’s. I was
fascinated by all aspects of the club at the time.

 “As I got to know the clientele
and the staff, it felt more like home to me. It’s amazing how knowing people’s
secrets can open doors to friendship. Our staff is close. I don’t hire anyone
who may not mesh with the rest, but turnover is almost non-existent, so that’s
not an issue. James is obviously still the manager. He’s good at what he does,
and he likes it. My head of security, Charles, has been with me for six years. Former
Army Ranger, special forces, and knows his shit. Security and safety were not a
priority when I bought the place. It was one of the things I changed. Charles
kicked our security’s ass when he took over, and I’m praying he never wants to
leave. I don’t know what I’d do without him. All of my staff except Christina
at the front desk has been with me for three plus years. Christina’s new
because the last front desk girl ended up marrying one of our clients, and he
wanted her there to participate, not work. She still comes in with him almost
weekly.”

Telling him all of this stuff
is giving me mixed feelings. On one hand I feel relieved that he’s finally
hearing the whole story from start to finish instead of making assumptions that
are likely untrue. On the other hand, I’m terrified about how he’ll react to
everything I’ve said. The last guy I had to tell this story to hauled ass like
I was chasing him with a chainsaw. It wasn’t pretty and it was quite painful
for me.

“Do you really make so much
money it’s worth it to stay?” he inquires, the tone of his voice giving away
his disbelief.

“Yes, but I like it, so there’s
no reason to give it up either.” If he had any clue what Eden’s profit is every
year he’d be floored, but I don’t feel like he needs actual numbers yet.

“Tell me about James,” he
demands. He clears his throat and says, “I’m sorry that came out rude. Can you
please tell me about James?”  

I sigh, knowing this is a
touchy subject with Finn. “We started dating about a year after he started
working for me. He was sweet and helpful and always around. Because he was my
manager I spent a lot of time with him so when he asked me out it just felt
natural to say yes. We dated for two years before we ended it.”

“Why did you end it if he was
so great and you still work together?” I’m not appreciating Finn’s snarky tone.
Hiding his disdain for James is not his strong suit.