Three Minutes to Happiness (9 page)

Anger poured through Finn’s veins, hot and molten. “So he left you?”

Val shook her head. “He was devastated. He came home the next morning, and confessed. He begged me to give him—give us, another chance. He promised to never…” Her voice caught on remembered pain. “When I told him I thought we should divorce, that we were too young to commit to a lifetime, well, eventually he agreed.”

“The bastard.”

Val’s eyes blazed. “You don’t get to call him that. I loved him. We loved each other. Back then, anyway. There were two of us in the marriage, and I wasn’t blameless in our break-up. I regret what happened, but I don’t regret the rest of the time we spent together. You know more than anyone that love doesn’t last forever, and that was a lesson I had to learn.” She cracked open the window, and breathed in the crisp air. “And I learned it.”

*****

Val forced back all thoughts of Finn during the afternoon, needing to focus on taking the perfect pictures of the second house in her assignment. She wished she wasn’t so tired. Hadn’t been wrung out, reliving the dissolution of her marriage. But everything was in the open now. There were no more secrets to tell. No holding back. Finn had introduced her to the owners of the second house, Phil and Eileen, then quickly made his apologies and left.

She’d insisted on getting a taxi home. Her house wasn’t far, and she’d seen the relief in Finn’s eyes at her decision. He’d said he wanted to meet Alison that night, and had promised to phone her tomorrow. She hoped their meeting wouldn’t include a final night between the sheets for old times’ sake, but couldn’t—wouldn’t—think of that.

At least she’d try not to.

The house she was photographing this afternoon was completely different from Merlin’s Grove, and if she hadn’t known the same architect was responsible, she never would have guessed. The only things they had in common were the energy saving features, and the fact that the house truly reflected the personality of its owners, who loved their home with a passion.

This element was so strong in each house, that she’d included the owners in some of her photographs, in their favorite areas. She’d photographed Elizabeth Fitzgerald on the window seat of a large stained glass window, with the fractured light painting rainbow shades on the twirling jasmine pinned up in the window’s interior. John had been so keen on the technological aspects of his home she’d followed him through a hatch on the roof to the valley between the slated pitches of the roof to see the solar panels, and taken his picture there. His hair haloed around his head in the stiff breeze, and his open, proud smile had filled her with delight.

Houses were about people. Not sterile spaces devoid of life. She wanted her photographs to reflect that.

Simon had advised her to focus on the lines, the design of the buildings, but she felt that this other aspect, the livability of the houses, was an important aspect too. Her home was so much as part of her, she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

Val took her last few photographs in the dying light. Calm spread through her entire body with every inhale. She loved the photographs she’d taken. It would take a few days to finalize the selection to present to Finn and his partner, but she was confident she had all she needed.

There was no point in fretting over the skill of the other photographers; all she could control was her own work, her own artistry. She had to clinch this contract. Her own skill would have to be enough.

*****

Taking flowers was a no-no. Taking Alison to dinner even more so. But now a relationship with Val had been given the green light, finishing things with Alison was Finn’s priority. Finn had called and said he’d go over to her place. Sorcha was staying with a friend, so there was no hurry to get home, but he had a ton of work to check over, and no inclination to prolong the meeting with Alison. Breaking up was always hard. Even when both parties knew the score.

He was rearranging his life—making changes he’d never thought he would, so as to have a relationship with Val. Change made him uneasy, it felt like commitment.

Alison met him at her front door, wearing a short dress and bare legs. Her long blonde hair flowed around her shoulders, and her smile was welcoming. Hair down, legs accentuated by sky-high heels. The last time she’d dressed like that, those legs were wrapped around his waist within moments of his arrival.

Now, all he wanted was to talk. “Hi.” He kissed her on the cheek and kept his hands at his sides.

She planted her hands on her hips and frowned. “Hi yourself.” His body language was sending her signals she obviously didn’t want to receive. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” She walked into the sitting room, and sat on the sofa. The sofa that had been the scene of more than one passionate make-out session between them over the past few months.

Finn sat in an armchair. “I couldn’t talk earlier. I had a client in the car.”

“You said.” Alison crossed her spectacular legs, letting the skirt ride up ever further. “Doesn’t matter, you’re here now. I’ve missed you.”

She’s never said anything like that before.

“It’s been what, a couple of weeks?”

“Three.” Her eyelids lowered to half-mast, and her glossed lips parted a fraction. “Three long, dry weeks.” She traced the neckline of her dress. “Can we get this talking over with quickly? Like I said, I’ve missed you.”

The gleam in her eyes was familiar.

“You mean a lot to me.” His words sounded clichéd, predictable, but what else to say? “But I’ve met someone.”

“I know about your other women, remember?” Her mouth curved. “And I certainly don’t need details.” She stood and walked over, positioning her body so close he could make out every tiny flower in the pattern of her dress.

“You don’t understand.” This was like bloody torture. “With her…I can’t see you again, Alison. It’s over.”

The last thing he expected was the slap across the face. Alison’s whole body was shaking, and her eyes glittered with tears.

“Ali—you know you and me, that it was never going to be more.” She knew. They’d talked about it more than once. Finn got to his feet and reached for her shoulders, but she jerked away. “I care about you, Ali, don’t be like this.”

“I know you said—” Alison crossed her arms and stared at him with pain in the depths of her eyes. “You were never interested in more, Finn. With
anyone
. Your modus operandi has always been dinner, followed by spectacular sex. I accepted you on that basis, but I always hoped things would change. I never thought you’d be serious. I’d hoped if you ever were…” She swiped a hand over her eyes. “I never expected you’d feel that way about another woman.”

Shit, shit, shit.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Too late.” Alison walked to the door and held it open. “I think you better leave.”

She waited. There wasn’t anything to say, anything to do. Except… “I’m sorry.” She knew the score, he’d never lied to her. So why did he feel such a damn heel?

“I’m sorry too.” As Alison refused to look at him there was nothing left to do but leave.

Finn’s mind reeled as he drove through the darkness on his way back home. Jesus, he thought he knew women. Had prided himself on writing the rulebook, and sticking to it to the letter. He’d been so wrong. Even though Alison had never given him any indication.

He stopped that thought, and considered the evidence. The little gift she’d brought him from her last trip to Hong Kong. The invitation to a get-together with her friends one night that he’d refused because he was busy with work. The truth had been evident, but he’d refused to see it. She’d wanted more. She hadn’t said it out loud, but she’d hoped.

Dinner and sex
. She’d nailed it. He’d always been generous with his credit card and his body, but never with his emotions. Those, he’d locked away, out of reach. And now, he was making plans to dine with another woman and take her to bed.

He’d hurt someone. Someone he cared about. The realization sickened him.

Finn parked outside his house, and walked to the front door, lost in thought. He turned the key in the lock, and pushed open the front door. The hallway was dark, but light bled from under the door into the sitting-room.
Strange, I thought I turned it off on my way out.

His muscles tensed. There had been a lot of burglaries in the area recently. Finn glanced around, looking for a weapon. The only thing to hand was a large golf umbrella in the stand by the front door. Hardly effective, but it would have to do.

He clutched it tightly, wooden handle up, breathed in deep, and turned the doorknob. The scene that met his eyes was enough to make him wish he could wash out his eyeballs. Sorcha perched atop a man on the couch.

Finn’s gaze flicked to the ceiling, and stayed there.

“Sorcha!” Luckily the sofa back had hidden most of her body from view, but he avoided looking back as she quickly covered herself.

He might have expected she’d try to sneak Steven in, they’d been hot and heavy since the speed dating evening, but he thought Steven would at least have the decency to—

“You said you would be out.” Sorcha came from around the sofa, hastily tucking her shirt into her jeans.

“So did you.” He glanced at the sofa, where Steven was doubtless dressing. “I don’t appreciate being lied to. Did you plan this?”

“I just…” Sorcha looked behind her as a dark haired stranger levered up to vertical. “Jim, this is my cousin, Finn.”

Jim? Who the hell is Jim?

The stranger was in his late twenties. His arms were covered in tattoos, and he had a worldly expression, which made Finn dislike him intensely. “Oh, hi man.”

He shoved what looked suspiciously like a baggie of white powder into his jeans pocket. The bathroom mirror lay on the coffee table with a razor blade. Finn grasped Sorcha’s arm.

“Hey!” As anticipated, she tried to avoid his gaze, but he held her chin and checked her eyes. Her pupils were dilated.

With a curse, Finn stalked over to Jim. “What did you give her?”

Jim’s adams apple bobbed. Finn grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt. “What the hell did you give her?”

“It’s coke. It’s only cocaine.” Jim brought his arms up and pushed Finn away. “She wanted it. She’s fine with it.” The urge to hit the guy was strong, but Finn clenched his hands at his sides. He wanted this lowlife out of his house, and in order to do that he’d have to be able to walk. If he gave in to his violent impulses, the guy wouldn’t be walking anywhere.

Through gritted teeth, “You will never give her drugs again. You won’t ever see her again, if you know what’s good for you.”

Jim took a couple of steps back, and grabbed his leather jacket from the chair. Sorcha, talking mile a minute, was trying to get between them. Finn ignored her.

There was fear in the other man’s eyes.
Good
.

“Get out.” Finn opened the front door wide. “And don’t come back.”

“Jim, I…” Sorcha’s panicked gaze flickered between Finn and Jim.

“You’re not worth it, babe.” A last shot of bravado before leaving almost cost Jim his front teeth. Finn slammed the front door so hard the sound reverberated through the entire house.

He stared at the varnished wood for long moments breathing in and out heavily before turning to his cousin. “You’re in trouble.”

Sorcha licked her top lip nervously.

He needed to find out what was going on in her head, so banked his fury to ease into the conversation carefully. “Where the hell did you find that guy?”

“He goes to college with me.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “He’s a little old for that, isn’t he?”

“He’s a mature student.” Sorcha was shaking, no doubt as a response to the scene that had just happened, and possibly the cocaine.

“Come on.” He walked into the kitchen. She followed. At the kitchen table he handed over a cup of hot tea. “How long have you been taking cocaine?” Finn fixed her with a stare. “Don’t lie to me.”

“That was my first time.” She sucked in her bottom lip. “I wanted to see what it was like. I wanted to have some fun.”

Anger welled up in Finn. “So was it fun, screwing a stranger on my sofa? Did you at least have the sense to use a condom?”

Sorcha’s eyes blazed. “Of course I did. I’m on the pill but I know all about STD’s, I wouldn’t risk…”

“And Steven. That’s all over, is it?” He liked Steven, and it was apparent that Steven was crazy about Sorcha too.

Sorcha’s eyes filled with tears. “No. I like Steven. I more than like Steven, but he didn’t want to have sex, and I… Jim was just a good time guy, that’s all.”

Finn’s stomach clenched, as though someone had crushed his internal organs in a vice. “How do you think he’ll feel when he finds out you’re screwing around?”

“Sex is just sex!” Sorcha shouted. “You know that—you have casual relationships. It doesn’t have to be…”

He has sex without love, but never like Sorcha just had. Never without at least mutual respect, caring, and friendship. The fact that she might have taken Finn’s sex life as a blueprint carved a hole in his heart. “That guy was a jerk, Sorcha,” he said quietly. “I’d never treat a woman like that.”

She crumpled. Long, deep sobs wracked her body. “I know.” Her words were a broken whisper. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Chapter Nine

Puppies are cute. So are babies. Every actor knows not to work with either. Photographers know never to work with both at the same time. Unfortunately Fiona knew neither of these things.

Hence this morning’s nightmare.

Val gritted her teeth in a parody of a grin that was closer to rictus than pleasant. She’d been busy all morning photographing a newly engaged couple and then snatched a quick sandwich Fiona had fetched from the deli on the corner. The clients had arrived before she’d even finished her coffee, together with their three-month-old puppy and year-old child. They’d wanted a picture of “their wonderful friendship”, to “treasure for always”.

They were out of their frickin’ minds.

“He’s just started crawling,” the mother said proudly.
Crawling after the puppy and pulling its tail.
The usual photography spot on a raised dais was completely out of the question, so Val had dressed an area of floor, lit it, and now the only challenge was to frame both baby and puppy in the same shot.