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Finn frowns. “Her name’s Harper.”
I inwardly smile at Finn’s correction. Would he care she’d gotten my name wrong if he truly hated me? I’m clinging onto the smallest things. Anything that shows he might care even in the tiniest of ways.
Not glancing at me, her lips thin as she says, “Oops, my mistake. Finn, I have a few last-minute details I’d like to go over with you before tomorrow’s photoshoot.”
With Bianca’s attention focused on Finn, her eyelashes batting like a lovesick puppy, I understand her hostility toward me. She assumes I’ve slept with Finn. Bianca’s in love with him, or she wants to jump his bones. Either way, she sees me as a threat. Didn’t Tamara say something to me like that? I’d brushed it off as nonsense. If only she knew she had nothing to worry about. Finn hates me. From the look on his face and the tone of his voice last night, nothing will happen again.
“Not now,” Finn says to Bianca. He turns to me. “Is there something you need to see me about?”
What the… He’s brushing off Bianca for me! His face is expressionless. His tone neutral. No anger from last night is visible. Should I worry? Is it simmering underneath his cool exterior, waiting to explode the moment we’re alone?
I see Bianca’s back stiffen. I’m assuming she doesn’t enjoy being dismissed. Or hates Finn choosing me over her. Again, she hasnothingto worry about.
“I want to talk to you about something, but if you’re busy with Bianca, I can come back later.”
“I’m not busy. Come in.” Finn gestures for me to enter his office. My jaw wants to hit the floor in shock. Why is he being so polite?
Bianca’s expression hardens. “Finn, this is important.”
“It can wait a few minutes. I’ll call you when I’m free.” With that, he closes the door on Bianca. But not before I see that her jawdidfall open. Bianca looks as surprised as I feel.
Finn walks around his desk, putting his hands on the top of the leather chair. His gaze fixes on the coat in my hands.
“I came to return this.” I lift my arm that’s holding the coat. Instead of passing it to him or placing it on the desk, I hold onto it. Like this piece of soft, woolen fabric is going to be the closest I’m ever going to get to Finn. Taking a deep breath, I pluck up the courage to say, “Can we talk about last night?”
“What about it?” His tone is nonchalant, but I notice the way he squeezes the top of the chair. He’s not as detached as he’s trying to make out.
“You approached me at Alto’s, you kissed me—touched me. I can see you hate me, so why would you do that?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It was a moment of insanity.”
I shake my head. “You had plenty of time to stop yourself.” I know it’s too good to be true that he did it because he still has feelings for me. So why? “Were you punishing me for…for…” The words stick in my throat.
“Marrying another man after you told me you loved me? Said you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me? Even naming the babies we were going to have?” The neutral expression from moments ago hardens as he clenches his jaw.
I hang my head with shame. “Iwantedall those things.” With Finn. No one else.
“You wanted an old man with deep pockets and a social circle,” Finn accuses.
I gasp as his words hit me hard. Of course that’s what he saw. If he only knew the truth. Is now the time to tell him the real reason I left him? Well…most of the reason. There’s a part about his father’s infidelity I’m not sure how to deal with yet. Would he even believe me?
“That’s not what I wanted,” I say.
Finn pushes away from the chair and scrubs a hand down his face. “I don’t care anymore. Whatever you say will only be a lie. Now, is that all?” He nods his head toward the door. Now is not the time to tell him. By the way he’s throwing me death daggers, he definitely won’t believe me.
Annoyance ripples through me at being dismissed. I’m not done. So I take the conversation back to last night. “Why did you approach me in the club? And why did you kiss me?” I don’t believe his ‘moment of insanity’ comment.
Instead of answering my question, he sneers. “I didn’t see you complaining.”
He’s being nasty to avoid answering the question. What was I expecting? For him to tell me his love for me has never died? That he wants to start over? Yeah, right. Talking to him is going nowhere. If he doesn’t want to discuss it, I will not push.
I huff, “Here, take your coat.” I toss it on the desk. As the coat lands on the wooden surface, something falls from the pocket, rolls on the desk, and drops to the floor, landing by my feet. I bend to pick it up.
“Leave it!” Finn snaps a moment too late. In my hand is a white gold ring with a sizeable solitaire diamond sitting on a delicate band of tiny diamonds. We would often look at rings together; I even picked out one just like this one. My gaze flicks to Finn. His expression darkens as he walks around the desk. “Give me that.” He snatches the ring from my hand and shoves it into the pocket of his trousers.
“Is this an engagement ring? Why do you have it in your coat?” I ask.
Finn tugs at the cuffs of his shirt. “None of your business.”
