Page 46 of Strictly Business

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Page 46 of Strictly Business

Finn’s arms cross over his chest, straining against the sleeves of his navy blue jacket, and he settles further into the chair. Guess he isn’t going anywhere. “Fine, I’ll go.”

"Sit down, Shortcake." It's not a suggestion. He hasn't moved an inch he doesn't look at all bothered by my outburst. He motions to my chair. "Sit." Whether I want to or not, my body follows his command. "Now, you’re going to tell me what is going on."

“I don’t—

"Don't lie to me, Michaela Jane." Did he just use my full name? That was kind of sexy… Wait, no. No, it wasn’t. Finn leans forward, forearms resting on my desk, hands folded perfectly in front of him. "What in the hell was that yesterday?"

Do I tell him? It’s going to be kind of hard to lie my way out of this one. And if he hasn't told Josh yet, he definitely will if I don’t start talking soon.

"Did you tell Josh?" I ask.

"Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"Well, it's not my place, is it? Besides, I don't know what's going on. So, I figured I should get the whole story before I rat you out.” His attempt at humor does nothing but irritate me. "I'm kidding, Michaela. I've been worried about you since you left.”

"You're worried about me?" I laugh, "You couldn't care less."

"That's not true."

"You've never cared, Finn! I was always just some dumb kid in the way. So, please spare me your pity now."

"Shortcake–"

"And stop calling me that, for the love of God."

He chuckles and leans back in his chair, "Okay, Shortcake."

"Dammit, Sheffield! I mean it."

"Alright, alright." He lifts his hands in surrender, a small smile on his lips. "Look, you don't have to tell me, but you should tell your family. I mean, does Nina even know?"

"It never came up," I shrug.

He shakes his head and reaches across the desk — I'm suddenly aware of how big his hands are when his right hand engulfs mine. The skin of his fingers is rough, it was the strangest sensation the first time I felt it — I would assume he had perfectly soft, manicured hands. But, his touch is soft and warms my skin. "Tell them, Michaela. I know they'd want to be there for you during this."

Chapter Twenty-Two

MICHAELA

MY PHONE DINGS FROM the top shelf where I’ve kept it since my little conversation with Finn on Friday. I’m surprised it’s still alive and breathing, but I guess that happens when you don’t use it for two whole days. So, to answer your question, no, I haven’t told my family about David yet. Instead, I spent the weekend holed up in my office working on project after project to keep myself preoccupied. It’s been great workwise. Though, I think I should probably go home and take a shower…

Rising to my tip-toes, I stretch my fingers to grasp my phone from its position at the furthest point of the shelf that I could reach.

I sigh scrolling through her other one million messages before looking at the other unopened messages waiting for me. Liv. Josh. Nina. Alex. Mom. Elizabeth. Finn… Finn? Opening his messages, I’m surprised to see a total of five messages since Friday. The first one was about two hours after he left my office.

Suddenly, the three little dots bounce up and down as he types another message. They disappear but quickly return a few seconds later, a cycle until finally nothing comes through. Maybe he will leave me alone now that he knows I’m alive and have opened his messages… Thank you read receipts.

But, it’s so strange. Why is he so concerned? This is not the same Finnley Sheffield I’ve always known. This is some alternate universe version… The one I’ve always kind of wished he would be.

I don’t respond packing my stuff to head home. I need to take a shower, eat something, and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

A knock on the door pulls my attention from my rewatch of The Mandalorian. Who in the world? I finally got back to everyone — minus one — about an hour ago and let them know I was alive and well, just consumed by work all weekend. I told Cait that I’d be taking tomorrow to stay at home and catch up on sleep since we don’t have anything that requires me to be in the office.

If I pretend to be asleep, maybe whoever it is will go away.

Another knock before a muffled voice comes through the door. "C'mon, Shortcake, I know you're in there. I can hear the TV."




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