The High Price of Secrets
She picked up her bag, grabbed her car keys and rose to her feet, determined to head back out to her car and put a decent amount of distance between her and Finn. She’d no sooner gotten out of her chair when a wave of dizziness hit her, sending her straight back down again. She rested her head in one hand, her elbow on the table, as she waited for the world to right itself again. Finn’s hand descended on her shoulder.
“Are you all right?”
She gave a strangled laugh. “Of course, I’m fine. I have a mother who is determined to hide from me, a friend who betrayed my trust, a landlord who’s evicted me and a dearth of places to stay tonight. Things couldn’t be better, thank you.”
“Come with me. Stay at my house.”
She lifted her head and stared at him incredulously. “You have to be kidding me, right?”
His eyes bored straight back into her. “Why not? I have plenty of room. I won’t touch you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Of course she wasn’t worried about that. There was no way she was letting Finn Gallagher touch her ever again.
“I’d rather sleep in my car.”
She got up to leave again, but that same dizziness sent her reeling, making her drop her keys. Finn’s hand shot out to steady her.
“You’re in no condition to drive anywhere. What were you thinking of doing? Settling down for the night here on the main street?”
She shot him a malignant glare. “If I must.”
“Not happening. You’re coming with me. We can pick your car up tomorrow.”
He swiped her keys from where they’d fallen on the table and called out to the man behind the café counter. “Hey, Bill, could you park the blue hatchback around the back for me for tonight? We’ll be back tomorrow for it.”
“Sure, Finn, no problem.”
Finn tossed the keys to Bill then wrapped his arm around the back of Tamsyn’s shoulders and pulled her into his side. She resisted for as long as she could, but then found herself sagging into him. The rough stormy night combined with the morning’s revelations and the eviction had completely done her in. For now, it was easier to simply let him take charge. Tomorrow, however, would be another story altogether.
* * *
Tamsyn woke the next morning to the sound of someone coming into her room. She jolted upright in bed, clutching the covers to her.
“What do you want?” she demanded as Finn settled a cloth-covered tray on the bed beside her.
“I thought you might like breakfast.” He whipped the cloth off the tray. “And we need to talk.”
“Unless you’re going to tell me where my mother is, I have nothing to say to you,” she said.
Her mouth watered as she looked at the freshly buttered toast and preserves he’d laid out on the tray, and her nostrils twitched at the enticing coffee-scented aroma borne on gentle wafts of steam coming from a white porcelain mug.
“Then maybe you can listen.” He sat down on the bed and repositioned the tray across her thighs. “Eat,” he commanded.
Figuring that if her mouth was full she wouldn’t have to talk to him, Tamsyn spread some orange marmalade on a slice of toast.
“I talked to Lorenzo last night.”
“That was good of you,” she conceded mockingly around a mouthful of toast. “And what did the illustrious Mr. Fabrini have to say? Did he rescind his eviction order?”
Finn’s mouth twisted. “No, he was adamant he didn’t want you staying at the house any longer.”
“Tell me, what did I ever do to him to make him hate me so much?”
“It’s not you, it’s—look, I can’t say. I gave my word I wouldn’t tell you and I’m honor-bound to hold to that. I owe Lorenzo a lot.”
“I see,” she said before taking a sip of her coffee. “And your honor doesn’t extend to telling me anything that he doesn’t want me to know—which means anything about him or my mother, is that right?”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s it? You really expect me to accept that as an apology?”
Finn sighed. “No, I don’t. But I can’t give you what you want so, it will have to do.” He stood up and started walking to the door, hesitating in the entrance a moment. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need to. I’ll try again with Lorenzo. He’s pretty angry right now.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“You’ll stay?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?”
He inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I’ll be in my office. If you need me, go downstairs, to the end of the gallery then turn right.”