Chapter 46

CHAPTER 46

Finn

T hree p.m. Heading home. By the time we reach the freeway, Maddie is fast asleep in her car seat, my now five-year-old wiped out from the day's non-stop activities. I glimpse her in the rearview mirror. How angelic my little girl looks! Her head slumped, her rosebud lips slightly parted, her cheeks brushing against her plush kangaroo, which serves as a makeshift pillow.

Without me asking, Scarlet reaches behind and manages to throw a blanket over my daughter.

"Thanks," I say appreciatively.

"Sure." Facing forward, she quirks a fleeting smile as Springsteen's "Two Hearts" plays softly on the stereo.

We spend the rest of the trip steeped in silence. My companion keeps her head angled toward the window, looking like she's more in deep thought than taking in the scenery. I sneak a peek at her, marveling at the planes of her exquisite profile—that chiseled nose, her high cheekbones, and those long-lashed eyes.

I'm undeniably attracted to this woman. She does things to me—things I have no control over. I loved holding her lithe body against mine as we swayed to the Elvis song that once belonged to my wife and me. It felt natural, so real. She followed my lead as if she'd danced with me a hundred times before. If Maddie hadn't been watching us, I would have kissed her. How much I longed to press my lips against hers when the song ended as she stood there staring at me, her eyes glazed, her lips slightly parted, like an open invitation.

But it's way more than just physical. I had the most fun I've had in ages with her. And when Kayla had to leave after her mishap, things got even better. She made me laugh during all those kid-friendly activities. And made me smile with how loving she was with my daughter. They've taken to each other like bread and butter. I, too, feel so at ease with her. As I cruise up the 10, I reflect on our intimate conversation, my willingness to open up to her about my late wife and the unsettling secret I've harbored. She listened, asked questions, and not once did she judge me. In fact, she made me feel like I've been needlessly beating myself up. Blaming myself for things in the past that maybe I shouldn't. Two broken hearts, two adults who have committed mistakes and made wrong choices, we have a lot in common. There's more than just her hypnotic eyes that reminds me of my late wife, and perhaps that's even more reason why I feel the way I do about her.

Scarlet is nothing like Kayla. Just the thought of my fiancée knots my stomach. It was a bad idea to bring her along. What the hell was I thinking? Her idea of an outdoor adventure is flying first class to Paris and staying at The Ritz or sailing on Sheldon's superyacht and getting high on coke. To be honest, I was glad she twisted her ankle and had to leave. I didn't miss her one fricking bit. Nor did my daughter. In fact, Maddie's aversion to Kayla may be greater than Kayla's to her. No matter how much I've tried, it's just not working. Seeing Scarlet around my daughter has made me have second thoughts. Realize that Kayla is all wrong. With her substance abuse, sailor mouth, and party-girl ways, she's unfit to be a mother. Why didn't I see these warning signs earlier? Was I too blinded by her beauty? Too eager for fame and fortune? Too desperate to find a new woman to mother my daughter?

Twisting my lips, I ponder—what the hell am I going to do? With my upcoming one-man show and engagement to Kayla the buzz of the art world, things are so damn complicated. Should I break up with her? Destroy my career? There's no doubt in my mind that if I leave her, she will do everything in her power to bring me down. With all her faults, Kayla is a force to be reckoned with. She gets what she wants when she wants it. If she wants to see me fail, it will happen. Everything I've struggled for will— Snap! —disappear.

I glance again at my sleeping beauty in the back seat through the rearview mirror and can't help smiling. Success has given me financial security and artistic validity, but it hasn't given me joy. J-O-Y, that simple three letter word... something my daughter gives me daily in big doses. Something I experienced today with Scarlet. My emotions spinning like a top, my vision shifts once more to my pensive companion, her eyes still glued to the window. What is she thinking about? Our day? My Maddie? Maybe me? I wonder if she feels all the things I feel. Is she as attracted to me as much as I am to her? Her aloofness offers no insight. It's time to break the silence between us.

"Hey, Scarlet, are you okay?"

With a slow turn of her head, she meets my gaze. Her expression borders on forlorn. Her eyes are watery, as if she's been crying.

Before she can utter a word, my cell phone chirps my Bluetooth. Shit! I should have muted the damn thing. It beeps again and my chest tightens like a fist as I glance at the caller ID. Crap. Kayla. I attempt to reject the call, but accidentally answer it instead.

"Kayla, what's up?" My tone is curt. From the corner of my eye, I see Scarlet tense up.

"Where the hell are you?" yells the voice on the other end.

Thank God, Maddie is still out like a light. Not wanting to wake her up, I fumble for my earbuds and put them on, thinking how I need to have a come-to-Jesus meeting with my fiancée about her crass language. Maybe, it'll segue into a breakup.

"We're driving back," I reply. "We should be in LA in about an hour if we don't hit traffic. Where are you?"

"I'm still in the emergency room."

"Is everything okay?"

"No!"

Despite myself, an alarm button sounds in my head. "What's wrong?"

"I pulled some ligaments."

A sprinkle of relief. It could have been a hell of a lot worse—like some kind of head injury.

"I'm glad it's only that."

Her voice rises with fury. "What!? Are you kidding me? I have to wear this absolutely hideous black boot and I may need crutches!"

My empathy level is low. Make that zilch.

"I need you to pick me up and take me home."

"I don't know if I can."

She shrieks. "What do you mean by... I. Don't. Know. If. I. Can?"

Despite her outburst, I maintain my cool. "It's Maddie's birthday. I have a little party planned for her tonight." The words "that you're invited to" never leave my mouth.

"Scrap the stupid party! She'll have another birthday! I need you to keep my foot elevated and iced!"

There's no reasoning with this woman. I blow out a huff of air, not caring if she can hear it.

"Phineas, are you there?" Her voice grows louder and angrier. "Answer me for God's sake!"

Several beats of silence prevail while Scarlet slips out a small black spiral notebook from her backpack along with a pen. It reminds me of the notebooks my late wife Skye always carried with her. She opens the pad and scribbles something down. Then, tears out the page and hands it to me.

Pinning it against the steering wheel, I read it.

Tell her to go screw herself .

I meet Scarlet's twinkling eyes. Mine smile with hers.

Next line: Then tell her to take an Uber. She'll live.

As I read it, Kayla's seething voice again pierces my ears.

"Phineas, what the hell is going on? Can you hear me?"

"Yes, but barely," I lie. "You're breaking up. The traffic's insane so you should probably Uber home."

"What the—" she yells.

I cut her off. "Sorry Kayla, I can't hear you. I'll call you later." And with that I end the call, promising myself I won't pick up if she calls again, which is a given.

And sure enough she does.

"Finn, are you going to answer your phone?" asks Scarlet.

"No, I'm going to turn it off," I reply to the bold, sensuous woman next to me. As I press the off button, a groggy little voice from the back seat slips into my ears.

"Daddy, are we almost home?"

"Soon, baby girl."

Thirty minutes later, we reach LA and sail through Santa Monica. As we approach Malibu, the 10 Freeway becomes the Pacific Coast Highway. The sun, a red ball of fire, is beginning its descent into the ocean. The familiar landscape excites Maddie.

"Hooray! We're almost home!"

"Are you ready for your birthday party?"

"Yup! Scarlet, are we still going to bake an apple pie and put candles into it?"

"Of course!"

My heart is melting. All this sweetness and love.