The Player's Club: Finn (16 page)

“Oh, not to worry,” Jonesy said, draining his first glass and putting it down with a soft thump on the table. He glanced around. “Your boy Victor lacks spine, that’s all.”

George sighed. He’d been losing a bit of his spine, too, knowing that Diana was going to be on the case when the month was over. Why he’d believed Victor had the skills to pull this off, he’d never know. “Uncle Thorn’s made it clear, he wants another Macalister on the board, and he wants to groom an heir. Finn’s a fuckup. That leaves me.”

Jonesy shrugged. “Seems to me that leaves a lot to chance. What if Finn straightens up?”

“He won’t,” George said darkly. “He wouldn’t leave the Club.”

“I had Victor do some more digging,” Jonesy said casually, even though there was an edge to his normally genial voice. “Seems like there’s a bet in the works. That cousin of yours bet your uncle that he could prove the Club was a worthwhile venture, or some such.”

“I know, remember?” George glowered. “Son of a bitch.” He drank some more of his martini.

“Well, did you know this?”

Jonesy spread a few photos on the table. They were of Diana and Finn, at Disneyland, from the looks of it. Diana was laughing. In one photo, Finn was feeding her ice cream, they were laughing at a restaurant.

In the third photo, more grainy and night-vision green, they were definitely doing more than laughing.

George felt fury pushing at the back of his eyes until he thought his head would explode.
“Son of a bitch!”

“You said that,” Jonesy said calmly. “Obviously your cousin is pulling out all the stops to get this bird on his side, yeah?”

George took a few deep breaths. Then he drained the rest of his drink and motioned to the waitress. “I knew he was sneaky, but I didn’t know he’d sink this low.”

“Like you wouldn’t do the same,” Jonesy clucked. “But it’s something we now need to deal with. I’m starting to think that things are swinging in your cousin’s favor. When she gets back, she’s going to tell your uncle that the Player’s Club is like the Boy Scouts, she’s going to smile and play nice, and she’s probably going to keep screwing the heir apparent.”

Bile filled George’s throat. “Damn it.
Damn it
.”

Jonesy tucked the photos back into a briefcase. “Great that you’re angry, Georgie, but right now you have to
think
.” He snapped his fingers in front of George’s face, and George growled at him. “She’s going to also come back and step right into this financial situation of ours. If it starts to point toward you…”

George felt the blood drain from his face. “Finn will tell her to come after me,” George said, shaking. “He hates me. She’ll nail me to the wall.”

Jonesy nodded like some kind of guru. “I suspected as much. So, what are our options here?”

“I don’t know.”

The waitress put a martini down on their table. George grabbed at it, waving her away.

Jonesy took it from him.

“What the hell?” George snarled.

“Before you drown your sorrows and become completely useless to me,” Jonesy said, with venom in his voice, “I told you—we need a plan.”

“Victor was right! We need to put the money back. We’ll have to come up with something else,” George said, his palms sweaty. “We’ve
got
to.”

“My portion’s spoken for, mate,” Jonesy said, “and you promised me another quarter mil.”

“A quarter mil? Jonesy, how are we supposed to get
that?
” George goggled. “You need to give your portion back!”

Jonesy’s laugh was cold enough to sober George up. He knew what his gut had been trying to tell him all along: Jonesy was scary. Scarier than George had wanted to admit.

“I’m not giving it back as it’s already spent,” Jonesy commented, matter-of-factly. “And I’m not getting out of this without the money we agreed on, so get that out of your head. First, we make sure this bitch doesn’t screw up our plans. I’ve got Victor working on a way to see this happens.... It’s a bit sloppy, but I think it’ll hold up. And if that doesn’t work, well, there are other methods to take care of our snoopy little lawyer.”

George coughed loudly. “Are we sure Victor will play ball?”

“Oh, we won’t have any more feet dragging from Victor,” Jonesy said, a small, knowing smile on his lips.

George glanced at his watch. “He wasn’t at the office this morning—I didn’t see his car. I thought he’d be here tonight.”

“He’s indisposed.” At George’s puzzled expression, Jonesy’s smile broadened. “Don’t worry, George, it’s just a broken leg. He can still work a computer. That’s why I didn’t break his arms.”

The words sank into George’s psyche like blocks of cement into a lake.

Jonesy passed the martini over, and George took it silently.

“I’m in charge now, George,” Jonesy announced, sounding as jovial as Santa. “It’s all well in hand. I’ll take care of this…one way or another.”

10

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’VE never been to Paris,” Finn marveled.

They were sitting at a small table at the legendary Les Deux Magots café, sipping rich coffee and eating a terrific sort of pastry that Finn couldn’t even pronounce. Diana was wearing a silky sundress and some kind of stylish-but-comfy shoes. Her smile was serene. “The place agrees with you. Seriously—if you were wearing a beret, I’d think you were a native.”

She gave him a seriously cute wink, tucking her chin down and coyly looking at him through her long lashes. “I’ve been to Paris before.”

“You have?” He frowned. “But I thought—”

“I was here on the way to a conference in…Prague, I think.” She took another long sip of coffee. “I remember changing planes at De Gaulle, and wondering what it was like in the city.”

Finn grinned. “And?”

“Everything I hoped it would be,” she confessed, finishing the last bite of her fruit tart thing. “Better than I imagined.”

“Better than Disneyland?”

“Different,” she amended. Soon she seemed worried again.

He found himself reaching over, holding her hand. “You seem sadder here. What’s up?”

She tugged her hand away, brushing crumbs off her lap. “Why don’t we take a walk?” She was pushing it, sounding abnormally cheerful, and he knew something was wrong.

“Come on,” he said, pulled her alongside him. “What’d I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” she said, with a small, wistful grin. “I just… What are we doing, Finn?”

“We’re having a good time. At least, I was.” He paused. “Diana, I know what my reputation’s like....”

“That’s not the problem!” she protested. “I certainly wouldn’t judge.”

His eyebrows jumped up. “You wouldn’t?”

She blushed. “I mean, I don’t have comparative experience to yours, but I…I don’t care one way or the other.”

They wandered down the picturesque boulevard, negotiating the streets toward the Seine River. They continued along the beautiful left bank; Notre Dame loomed in the distance. Diana stopped talking, stopped walking and simply stared for a long minute.

“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.

He’d seen this view a million times: family vacations, college trips, parties. Now, with her, it was as if he’d never seen it before. He’d certainly never paid attention before.

He stroked her hair. She made things new. She made things alive.

“I don’t want this to just be casual,” he said quietly. “It isn’t casual. I know, these are weird circumstances, but I would really like to see where this goes, Diana.”

He balked when he saw tears starting to well in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated, rubbing at her cheeks gently with his thumbs.

“Finn…we don’t make sense.” Her voice broke. “You’re my boss’s son. You’re younger than me. We’re from two totally different worlds.”

“Does any of that really matter?” He was more amused than concerned.

Temper lit her teary eyes. “I’m only here because your father ordered me here. It’s been wonderful, and I see now why this Club means so much to you. But at the end of the day,
I work for your father.
”

“So what? Why does that matter?” he repeated.

She stared at him for a long silent moment. His anger slowly inched up; his vulnerability increased.

“Do you really think when we get back, I’m going to tell your dad that he’s losing his little bet?”

“What?”

She let out a huff of breath. “Did you know he gave the okay for my scholarship to law school? He said he saw potential in me,” she said, with a note of pleading. “He trusted me with one of the most important jobs in his company, when I was only thirty. I’ve been in that job for five years. Do you think that he would’ve sent me here if there were any, absolutely
any
chance that I’d betray him?”

The truth of her words hit him. “You…you would sleep with me, pretend to be having a great time…and then stab me in the back?”

“I am not pretending. I’m having a wonderful time. The best time I’ve ever had in my life,” she whispered passionately, holding him, the expression on her face one of deep pain. “But I report to your father. I’d lose my job, my reputation. I’d lose everything that means anything to me.”

He took a careful step away from her. He’d never been so numb. “I’m feeling so stupid here,” he said. “I was under the impression that I was starting to mean something to you.”

She reached for him, and he took another step.

“Or was I just part of the job?”

Now she was the one who stepped back, as if slapped. “No. Finn, you can’t possibly believe that.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I was stupid enough to trust my father, right?” His laughter was bitter.

“I didn’t mean for things to go this far.” She was crying now, tears streaming down that toasted almond skin of hers. “I…I do care for you, Finn.”

“Please. Let’s not do this,” he said. “We’re becoming a mix of Fellini and a bad Lifetime movie. Let me just cut my losses with some dignity, okay?”

He started to walk away, and she grabbed him, nailed him with a hard, fierce kiss. “I’m so sorry,” she said, leaning her forehead against his chest.

“I’m sort of glad,” he said. “I mean, normally it takes years for somebody to figure out they’re not as important to someone as a job. We nailed it in about two and a half weeks.”

He pried her loose, his heart tearing with every motion. When he’d finally disentangled her, he forced his voice to stay level.

“I can ask the hotel to get you another room, if the suite’s not big enough.”

“Finn…” She was sobbing now.

“Otherwise, I’ll wander around for a bit, I think. I’ve been here tons, don’t worry.”
As if she would.
He’d been jaded about women before, but this was ridiculous. “I’ll see you before we get back to San Francisco. And under the circumstances, I guess you can forgo the whole operating manual thing. That was a lame challenge anyway.”

“I’ll keep my word.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Why start now?”

With that, he walked away blindly, away from Diana and everything that seemed beautiful about Paris.

DIANA WAS SITTING in the sumptuous living room of their hotel suite when Finn came in, sometime after four o’clock in the morning. She’d been out of her mind with worry, and with guilt. She wanted to rush to his side, if only to reassure herself that he was all right.

One look at him proved that he was anything but.

“What happened?” she asked, before the smell of alcohol almost knocked her off her feet.

“I did what seemed appropriate.” He was overenunciating, trying to be clear through the pronounced slur. “It’s funny…I can speak French when I’m drunk. Want to hear? Bluh bluh bluh, bonjour.”