Chapter 36
Audrey’s POV:
My phone tang.
The name ‘Finley‘ flashed across the screen, making me pause in surprise.
It had been weeks since we last spoke, and his sudden call was completely unexpected.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Audrey!” Finley’s voice was filled with obvious excitement. “Guess where I am right now?”
“Your gallery? Or some art exhibition?” I ventured randomly.
‘Nope, he chuckled, ‘I just touched down at JFK. Isn’t that
a
pleasant surprise?”
“What?” I stood frozen in place. “You’re back in New York? Why didn’t
“The surprise, of course, cannot be revealed in advance.” Finle. You give me a heads up?”
ce crackled through the phone.
“Now, my dear Audrey, please depart immediately to greet your most devoted fan
And supporter.”
“Alright, alright,” I couldn’t help but laugh. Finley’s arrival brought me a sense of ret
I hadn’t felt in ages. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
An hour later, I arrived at the airport.
I spotted Finley from a mile away with his over–the–top outfit–he was wearing a denim jacket paired with tight black pants and a flashy silk scarf around his neck, looking like a rock star who’d wandered into the wrong venue.
“Audrey!” He spread his arms wide as soon as he saw me, and we embraced in the arrivals hall.
I skillfully dodged his bear hug, stepping back to look him up and down.
“Good God, Finley, you’re dressed like a peacock. Are you heading to some carnival?” I couldn’t help but tease, reaching out to flick his ridiculously dramatic
silk scarf.
Finley dramatically clutched his chest, looking utterly wounded.
“My dear, have you been in America so briefly that you’ve already forgotten what fashion is?”
‘He shook his head in dismay. “This is Valentino’s latest collection, darling. I see I’ll have to re–educate you on what taste means.”
“If taste means walking down New York streets dressed like a circus performer, then I’d rather be tasteless,” I laughed, taking one of his suitcases.
“Enough, fashion discussion ends here,” Finley dramatically pressed his hands to his stomach, letting out a theatrical wail.
1/3
5:18pm
Chapter 36
IVE IVI
“I’m practically fainting from hunger. Twelve hours of flight time, and airplane food is basically a violation of human rights. Take me to some real food immediately, or I’ll collapse right here in this airport and write in my will that you murdered me.”
“So dramatic, I laughed, shaking my head. “Come on, I know a great Italian place.”
Finley’s eyes immediately lit up. ‘Let’s go! My stomach can already hear the food calling!”
After we ordered at the restaurant, I watched Finley demolish plate after plate of food.
Appetizers, salad, entrées, dessert–he ate like he hadn’t seen food in days, completely unbothered by whether his Valentino outfit might burst at the seams.
“Jesus,” I stared in amazement at the mountain of empty plates in front of him. “Did you seriously not eat anything on the plane?”
Finley finally patted his stomach contentedly and leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.
“Airplane food? You call that food?” He rolled his eyes. “I’d rather starve than eat that garbage.”
He dabbed his mouth and elegantly set down his napkin, as if he hadn’t just inhaled everything in sight.
“There, now I can finally have a civilized conversation.” His gaze sharpened as he studied me. “So, how does it feel being back? Is New York the same as you
remembered?”
“Some things have changed, some haven’t,” I shrugged. “Just like me, I guess.”
I hesitated for a moment, then looked at Finley.
“Actually, I’ve reconnected with Clara. She’s the one who picked me up from the airport when I got back.”
Finley’s expression froze for just a split second.
Though he quickly covered it up, I still caught that moment of discomfort.
He stirred his coffee with studied nonchalance.
‘I thought you wanted to cut all ties with your past? That’s why you changed your last name and created a whole new identity.”
I smiled slightly. “Clara’s different. Besides you and Grandma, she’s the only person who ever really cared about me.”
Finley had been staring into his coffee ever since I mentioned Clara. I’d noticed there seemed to be some kind of history between them since high school.
So I casually dropped, “Speaking of which, when Clara and I went for coffee last week, she seemed to be fishing for information about you.”
‘Come on, there’s no way she knows we ran into each other in London,” Finley quickly denied.
“Anyway, let’s drop it,” Finley suddenly put down his coffee cup, clearly wanting to change the subject.
*Speaking of leaving, why did you bolt from the hotel that night without even saying goodbye? I woke up and you’d already checked out–didn’t even leave a
text.”
2/3
3:18
8pm
Chapter 36.
My smile froze.
MM
That was the night I least wanted to remember.
“… I had way too much to drink that night,” I said quietly. I wandered into someone else’s room and thought the guy in there was some kind of farewell gift you’d arranged for me. I treated him like a gigolo and slept with him.”
Finley’s eyes went wide with shock. “What? You really think I’m that much of a wildcard? I was just talking trash!”
“Who told you to always make jokes like that!” I shot back angrily. It made me think you were serious this time.”
Finley quickly processed this information, his expression shifting from shock to pure gossip mode as he leaned in and lowered his voice. “So… how was the guy? Hot enough?”
Finley raised an eyebrow, half–jokingly saying, “Maybe you two could start something?”
“Oh, he was incredibly handsome, absolutely perfect,” I replied sarcastically, “perfect to the point of being suffocating.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Finley pressed curiously. “Who’s the lucky bastard?”
I hesitated for a moment before finally whispering the name: “Caspar Thornton.”
Finley’s hand froze mid–air, his eyes bulging. “King C? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Dead certain,” I gave a bitter laugh. “I only found out who he was afterward.”
Finley’s expression shifted from shock to dead serious as he set down his fork.
“Audrey, you need to get out of New York. Right now.”
I looked at him helplessly. “Weren’t you just encouraging me to pursue something with him?”
“That was before I knew who we were talking about,” Finley lowered his voice. “Caspar Thornton isn’t just anybody. If you’ve pissed him off…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his expression was grave enough.
“Too late for that,” I laughed bitterly. “I’m currently his son’s art teacher.”
Finley looked at me like I was some kind of warrior about to march into battle. “You actually have the balls to stick around and work for him? Do you have a
death wish?”
“Whatever happens, happens,” I shrugged.
Comments
✩ 2
Write Comments
<SHARE
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
