3. Finn

Finn

That familiar TV static of anxiety kicks in as my plane starts to descend over Burlington, Vermont. From the air, I can see the stretch of Lake Champlain and the harbor with boats bobbing along, all in tidy little lines. The trees are lush and full, varying shades of green. In the distance, mountains kiss the cotton candy clouds drifting over the horizon.

It’s picturesque. And yet, when I think about the distance I’ve lost, and how much closer I am to New York City, there’s a strange twist in my heart. As I step off the plane, I tell myself there’s no way I’ll be seeing anyone from my past in Burlington.

Not if I can get in and out of here like I intend to.

I, of course, flew first class on the Vermont Vipers’ dime, so I deplane first, tucking my binder into my soft leather handbag. My heels click satisfyingly as I walk down the ramp and into the airport.

“I’ll go collect your luggage,” Penny says, bustling up next to me, wearing a plaid skirt and designer blouse. She takes thematic fashion seriously, and has clearly prepared a set of outfits she deems fit for Vermont. I wonder if she’s gotten herself a hockey jersey yet.

“That would be wonderful. I’ll see about getting us a car.”

“Oh,” Penny says, a light pink tinge appearing on her cheeks. “I thought you saw the memo—that’s already been taken care of.”

I glance at her.

“What—”

“Dr. Finley Asher!”

When I turn, Grey Aldine is standing there with his wife. They’re both waving excitedly, and he’s holding a piece of cardboard that has my name scribbled on it in what looks like several different marker colors.

“Hmm,” I say when I near them, eyes skipping from the sign to the coach, who looks quite proud of himself. “I have to say, this is not what I was expecting.”

“Okay,” Aldine says, handing the sign to his wife. “First, it’s good to see you again! Second, I have bad news about the Hilton.”

I bite my lip, disappointment already rolling through me. Quickly, I glance over my shoulder, wondering if we might be able to just slide right back onto the plane that brought us here. That may sound dramatic, but I meant what I said—I’ve accomplished the impossible. Built this career from scratch. Amassed respect from men in sports.

I will not be sleeping in a log cabin tonight.

“Is the bad news that they had to upgrade me to a suite?” I ask, tightening my hand on my suitcase and raising an eyebrow at him.

“The amazing news,” Ellie says, stepping forward and smiling at me. “Is that the Hilton may be fully booked, but we have somewhere even better for you to stay!”

“Somewhere better?” I ask, blinking. “I am not a fan of Marriott, Aldine. You know that—”

“It’s not Marriott,” he says, clearing his throat. “It’s Aldine.”

Penny pulls up with my suitcases right as he’s saying this, and her face twists.

“You said you would book the Hilton,” she says, glancing at me, a mild wave of panic flitting over her face. It’s usually her responsibility to book hotels, but Grey promised to handle it this time, claiming he could get a special rate.

“Yeah, about that,” Grey starts, sounding chagrined. Ellie is giving him a specific look, one that reads This is what you get . “I waited a little too long to book those, and it looks like the hotel is booked up for some sort of convention this weekend. But —”

I’m already shaking my head. Not angry, but also not relenting. I made my stipulations clear.

“—it’s not what you think. You can come and stay in our guest house.”

“It’s more like its own house, really,” Ellie clarifies, clearing her throat. “We built it for when people come to visit, and we haven’t had anyone to use it on yet.”

“Why don’t you just come and take a look at it?” Grey urges, a knowing glint in his eye. “Then you can decide whether or not you want to stay with us until the Hilton opens up.”

My fingers tighten on the strap of my handbag. There’s a reason I always book the same kind of hotel. When I’m away from home, I like the familiarity. The constant consistency. I don’t like the idea of staying in a new place.

Then, I see a flash of my new client—Sammy Braun—in one of his highlight reels. The look on his face when a puck slid just past him. The pure determination, mixed with the slightest hint of shame.

“Fine,” I say finally, which makes Ellie clap and Penny give me a surprised look. She’s witnessed me walk out on more than one deal in the past—I don’t like to let people waste my time. This tolerance of disruption must be coming off as incredibly strange to her.

“Come on,” Ellie says, reaching forward and taking one of the suitcases from Penny, who’s too shocked to fight back. “You guys are going to love it.”

“If it’s a log cabin,” I tell Penny from the side of my mouth when Ellie and Grey are far enough ahead not to hear me, “just book a flight home.”

“Got it,” she whispers back, looking relieved.

***

When I wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of soft chirping and water lapping against rocks.

Slowly, I sit up and let the silk sheets fall away from my body. When I push my eye mask up onto my head, I realize for the first time that I’m not at home, and remember the flight to Burlington and the surprise of staying in the Aldines’ guest house.

Which, to Ellie’s credit, I do love. During our drive up to his place, Grey explained that he and Ellie had just had their home constructed. I’d only half-listened—it was the kind of construction details that only men and contractors think are interesting.

And then, when we pulled around the bend and saw the mansion’s facade, I’d nearly laughed out loud.

A log cabin.

Or, rather, it was log-cabin-themed, with a large stone face, wooden columns, and a pond right at the front of the property. I could already picture the scratchy red wool blankets on the beds and the not-quite-hot water we’d pretend to enjoy in the bathrooms. Only after we walked into the guest house did I tell Penny to cancel our flights home.

Now, I slip out of my bed, walking through the guest house.

The kitchen is gleaming in the low light of the early morning, and the fireplace clicks on automatically when I walk through, lighting the room and instantly giving the space ambiance. When I get to the fitness room, I slip onto the Peloton and flip through until I find my favorite instructor.

After my workout, I walk to my room’s adjoined bathroom, wiggling my toes against the tile floor, which is smooth and warm under my feet. The bathroom features a large rain shower with various options for temperature, speed, and aromatherapy.

Certainly not the log cabin I was trying to avoid.

“Good morning,” Penny says, breezing into the kitchen thirty minutes later while I’m seated and looking at my iPad at the kitchen island.

The sun has just started to edge through the windows, the sky lightening into civil dawn, a pale blue color offset with streaks of white. Beyond the ceiling-to-flood windows on the far side of the guest house is a long, sloping lawn, then the line of trees, which rises up in a wave and continues rising and falling until it reaches the foothills in the distance.

“Good morning,” I return, tearing my gaze from the view and looking at Penny. As enjoyable as this luxurious guest house has been, there’s a part of me that panicked this morning when I realized I’d forgotten my super food matcha, which I drink at five on the dot every morning, without fail. “I’ll need you to run into town for me and see if you can find something to replace my matcha. Obviously, it would be great if you could find the brand I like, but I need something with the Reishi.”

“You got it.” Penny punches the button on the coffee machine to make her cup. Unlike me, she’s a habitual coffee drinker. I had to stop when the excessive caffeine made me too anxious.

The moment Penny is out the door, I return to my iPad. My first meeting with Sammy Braun is tomorrow, and I’m nowhere near ready for it. I’ve had to cram my research into the span of just a few hours, and I feel unprepared. I hate feeling unprepared.

Clearing my throat and taking a sip of water, I adjust my position in my seat and tap over to my notes, making a quick list of data points to collect.

Then, I switch into focus mode and get to work.

***

“Hmm?” When I blink and look up, Ellie Aldine is standing in the doorway to the guest house, looking quizzically between Penny and I. Penny is seated on the other side of the table, compiling information from Sammy’s twenty years of doctor’s appointments. From ear infections to blood tests, we need to know everything.

And we’re already amassing a list of tests he’ll need to undergo before we can start to construct our plan. We’ve just got here, but it already feels like we’re way too far behind.

“Oh,” Ellie says, blushing and pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I was just—well, Grey thought the two of you might want to come get dinner with us tonight?”

“Get dinner?” I repeat, my brain still numb and spinning from being absorbed in my work. I glance at the clock and realize it’s just past six in the evening. When I look back at Penny, she’s blinking too, clearly taken aback by the time.

“Right,” Ellie says, nodding and stepping fully inside before closing the door behind her. When I can fully look at her, I realize she’s wearing a hockey jersey and a pair of jeans. “We’re going to this brewery that Grey loves, and we thought it might be nice to introduce you to Burlington. Since you’re going to be here for a while.”

Penny looks to me, and I shake my head. There is far too much work to be done—not to mention the fact that a brewery sounds loud and overwhelming, which is exactly the opposite environment I need.

I can already picture the giant metal drums whirring in the background, the overwhelmed waitress, the kitschy little tablet on the table with a screen that a thousand sticky fingers have touched. Watery drinks, half-cold seafood nachos…

“No, thank you,” Penny says, tapping the papers on the table in front of her. “Got quite a lot to get through.”

“Oh,” Ellie exhales, and to my surprise, she actually sounds disappointed. “I mean, some of the guys from the team are coming, and it might be a good chance to meet everyone.”

I put my tablet down and lean forward. “That’s so kind, but tonight feels like a staying-in kind of night. Still a little tired from the traveling, and we do have quite a lot to get done.”

She nods. “Oh, right. Well, can I bring you something back? They make these amazing onion rings.”

“…No, thank you,” I say, mind flashing to my kale salad, already prepped and ready to go in the fridge. Even thinking about oily onion rings is giving me indigestion. “But we do appreciate it.”

“Alright,” she says, smiling and opening the door behind her. “Well…good luck!”

“Thanks,” Penny calls after her, turning immediately back to her work when the door shuts. I stare at the younger woman across the table from me for a long moment, ignoring the increasing sense of panic that I haven’t already gone back to what I was doing.

Penny reminds me so much of myself—so sure, so determined. The work ethic of a woman who knows nothing will be handed to her. But I feel a small pang of—what? Longing? Loneliness? Something eats away at my chest when I look at Penny and acknowledge that she just chose to stay in with me, rather than going out and meeting people. Having a good time.

“He’ll need tests on his A1C,” Penny murmurs, “nothing abnormal, of course, but looks like he’s due for them.”

When she flicks her eyes up to mine, I school my face, clearing my throat and sitting back in my chair.

“Schedule them,” I say, nodding and looking back to my tablet. “They are working on our timeline, after all.”