Page 40 of Strictly Business

“Will you make it on Sunday?”

“Sunday?” She seems genuinely confused.

“The Coney Island event for the thing he’s been working on,” Josh says with a little more annoyance than necessary.

“Shit,” Elizabeth sighs, her shoulders falling. “Finn, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll make it. I have to be in Asheville for a shoot tomorrow and then Charleston on Monday for—”

“Don’t forget our appointment on Monday.”

Elizabeth finally meets his stare. A silent conversation before Elizabeth sighs and turns back to me. “I’m sorry, Finn. Things are just extra crazy right now.”

“No sweat, Ellie.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze. “As long as you make it to the big party next month. You gotta take a break and celebrate occasionally.”

Another sad smile. “I promise.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I swear I hear Josh mumble.

“Well, I have to go pick up the dry cleaning, I need one of the shirts for tomorrow.” Elizabeth squeezes my arm gently before grabbing her purse. She leaves without another word and doesn’t even kiss Josh. And it leaves me feeling… lost. What in the hell did I just witness?

“Dude, what was that?”

“What?” He turns from the fridge with two beers.

“That. What in the hell was that? She didn’t even tell you goodbye. Elizabeth never leaves without telling someone goodbye, let alone her own husband. She didn’t even kiss you!”

Josh shrugs, “Sure, she did.”

“Josh—”

“Finn, just drop it. Okay?” The glare he shoots me is enough for me to end the conversation, for now.

I’m happy to accept the glass of whiskey Uncle Jack hands over after my day with Josh. Honestly, I was relieved to get back to pretending to be a happy family. That’s something I never thought I’d say. Usually, I’m chomping at the bit to get away from my parents, but today I was glad to get back to some sense of normalcy. Tonight was the big birthday bash for all of Dad’s closest friends, if you can call them that. The backyard had been transformed into a 1920s speakeasy including a makeshift entryway that required a code word to enter. I had to hand it to my mom, she and the party planner outdid themselves.

Dad takes his glass plopping into one of the brown leather chairs of the men’s club across from me. His smile tells me I’m not going to like where this is going. When I was younger, I used to dream of what it would be like to join my father and Uncle Jack in the club. I wanted to be part of the secrets behind that giant mahogany door that concealed this room from the rest of the world. I was never allowed inside and that made it feel sacred…special. Until I found myself on the other side of the door on my sixteenth birthday. I learned this was nothing more than an over-glorified cigar and whiskey room where Dad would bring his friends to discuss business and talk shit. I wish I could tell my younger self not to romanticize it so much. Maybe I could have saved myself some of the disappointment that came with being accepted into the “club.”

“So, Finn, how’s your little project going?” Dad taunts.

I share an annoyed glance with Uncle Jack. Of course, Dad would bring this up now in front of the others. We’re joined by three of his business associates — Jake Carpenter, finance guru; Alex Black, vice president of the local bank chain; and Cooper Lewis, owner of a sports team (baseball, I think) and my father’s former business partner. All successful businessmen who know me as nothing more than Oliver Sheffield’s failure of a son. Every venture I’ve ever attempted has failed, and I’m sure they all expect this one to be no different. That’s why I went to the best of the best for help on this one…

“It’s fine."

“Not as easy as it looks, hmm? Your mother says Davina isn’t even the one helping you, some assistant is.”

“Nina has been a little busy. She is—”

“You mean, she knows it’s not worth her time.” He smirks lighting a cigar. “You could always wave the white flag. No one would judge, we all understand how hard it can be.” He and his friends share a laugh, but Uncle Jack just rolls his eyes.

“Isn’t that enough business talk, fellas?” Uncle Jack interrupts before I can say something I might regret. Fighting with Dad isn’t going to do me any good, it’s only going to make things worse. And I can’t afford to make things worse.

“Relax, Finnley,” Dad takes a long drag of his cigar. “I’m just interested in what you’re doing, that’s all.”

“That’d be a first,” I mumble and down the amber liquid in my glass.

“So go ahead, give us your best sales pitch.”

Chapter Nineteen

MICHAELA