Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Finn

T hough I didn't consume any alcohol, I'm on a high when I depart the still hopping restaurant. Kayla insisted on paying the bill, despite my protests, and we set up a time when she could come down to the studio and see my work. She also told me her attorney would be sending me a contract to review and sign. Thank God, Skye has a good one whom she trusts to negotiate her employment contract at Conquest. I'm not sure if he's ever had experience in the art world, but it doesn't seem like my agreement will be hard to handle. It's a basic five-year deal with a set commission rate.

Heading back to my vehicle with a big smile on my face, I punch the air. "Yes!" Finally. I have a chance to show the art world who I am. Make a mark. Make a name.

I can't wait to share the great news with Skye. Out of fear of letting her down, I didn't tell her anything about my meeting with Kayla Phillips. But now I want to shout out everything. My life is about to change. Our lives are about to change. Tonight, we'll go out to celebrate. Both her birthday and my deal. Surprise her with the red dress I bought. Wine and dine at our favorite restaurant. Come home and have epic sex. Almost at my truck, I pluck my phone from my pocket and speed-dial her number. She picks up on the third ring.

"Finn?"

A siren blasts my ear. A fire engine. It's turning from La Cienega onto the side street I'm walking down.

The bright red truck zooms down the pavement past me. "Baby, hold on... Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I can now, but I can only talk for a minute. I'm about to go into a meeting."

I huff with frustration. She's always about to go into a meeting, or is in the middle of one, or out in the field.

"What's up?"

"I have some exciting news."

"Hold on. Charlene is calling me."

Charlene is our twentysomething nanny. We hired her through some fancy agency and are paying her big bucks. She probably makes more money than me. We've, however, been less than thrilled with her performance. Constant emergencies and prior obligations. A lot of drama. We've thought of firing her, but neither of us has had the time to come up with a replacement. Skye is in the middle of some big story, which she won't share with me, and I've been focused on my latest work.

Skye returns. "Oh my God."

"What's wrong?" I ask, alarm rising in my voice, thinking something has happened to our baby.

"Charlene . . . she just quit."

"What?!" Though I'm relieved our child isn't in any danger, my thoughts are already miles away from the good news I wanted to share.

"Her boyfriend proposed and they're eloping tonight. Flying to Mexico."

Processing her words, I curse under my breath. Skye's voice is in a panic.

"This is the worst possible timing."

Tell me. Our celebratory romantic dinner has just gone down the drain.

"Finn . . . I need to go out tonight . . . Business."

Again? "What about your birthday?"

"We'll celebrate it tomorrow." She pauses. "Can you stay home and take care of Maddie?"

Our beautiful baby. Though I love her to death, disappointment threads through me. Reluctantly, I murmur, "Sure."

"Great. I've got to go. My meeting is starting."

The phone goes dead. And I wonder—what's happened to "I love you" before saying goodbye.