Page 32 of Rules in Love
Initially, it was to be held this weekend, with Jason keen to get the damn thing over and done with. But there was no way I was going without Finn. Much to Jason’s ire, we agreed to push it back two weeks, thus allowing me more time to plan something befitting a founding partner, while also giving McHunk time to escape pox quarantine. It was all a matter of perspective. It was also an accidental, genius move. The delay allowed everything to fall into place perfectly.
Asher gave us exclusive access to M.I.X., including full catering and bar service. I booked the disco-loving D.J. that Mr. Wise had name-dropped several times, and when I told the honoree the news, he declared he must have a 70’s fancy dress theme. Hopefully, there was enough time for everyone to put their costumes together, but honestly, I didn’t give a shit. Finn would be there, I would be there, and the rest was up to everyone else. That’s not true. That’s how I wanted to feel. In reality, I really did care and was obsessing over every little detail despite the fact I couldn’t stand the man it was all in celebration of. It was extremely vexing.
Speaking of obsession, I picked up my phone and re-read Finn’s text for the hundredth time.
Finn McHunk: Yes.
Poetry.
Going to his house was a big deal.Should I be doing this? Am I prepared? Is my soup Finn-worthy?I needed to sit, think, and plan my moves carefully.
Approximately three seconds later, I was out the door. I sprinted home, whipped the straightener through my hair, threw the soup I made last night—not for Finn, but he didn’t need to know that—and the cookies Mrs. Horowitz had definitely made him into a bag, and I was off again.
I rushed down Sixth and turned onto Bleecker Street with a smile I couldn’t wipe off my face. Then, just steps from his house, it hit me. A fist-sized knot of guilt and pre-emptive remorse formed in my stomach.
What the actual fuck was I doing? I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with the hot guy from work. Yet, there I was, planning a retirement party to suit my seduction purposes and preying on my victim as he lay ill and helpless in bed. Me and my chicken soup were going to hell in a handbasket.
Shame should have sent me packing and almost did. But the image of Finn holding me to him by his car and in my kitchen, how his hardness felt pressing against my softness, drove me forward. I?never did anything for me. Ben had rightfully been my priority for years. HenceIdeology #1 - Ben ALWAYS comes first.ALWAYS.But I was still young and deserved some fun. Besides, it was just soup. He was just a man. It was just my shaking hand knocking loudly on his red front door.
The remnants of my WWJD—what would Jane do?—moral code was pushed to the recesses of my mind as footsteps approached. I laughed at the ridiculousness of my nervousness, stood straight, stuck my tits out, and smiled. Slowly, the door opened, and my heart leapt into my mouth, but the beautiful face that appeared before me belonged to a different gorgeous blonde with perfect curls. She was intimidatingly cool, dressed in a vintage surfer-style dress and flip-flops. Her wrists were adorned with turquoise, orange jasper, and braided leather bracelets I would kill to own.
Please let this be his sister. I feared a let-down of epic proportions was seconds away, but then I noticed her striking blue eyes. Finn’s eyes. “Hi, you must be Scarlett. I’m Evie, Finn THE COWARD’S,” she yelled, looking over her shoulder, “sister.”
Thank you, Jesus!
“Yep, that’s me. Scarlett, the soup lady, here for Finn, the coward.” I giggled nervously and thrust the soup forward into Evie’s stomach. “You look so much like him but younger. You’re older, though, right?”
“Yeah, three years older, and thanks for that. I’ll be sure to let him know.” With a wave of her hand, she invited me in. My house seemed to impress Finn on first sighting, and I was no different walking through his. It was huge, stately—regal, even. The choice in furnishings and decoration was all high-end and seemed much more suitable to Jocelyn than to Finn or his sister. “Finn’s not feeling the best and is hiding due to his grotesqueness—direct quote. He asked me to thank you for the soup and apologize for not showing his cowardly face.”
A loud thump and a series of comical grumbles echoed from the hallway beside us. “I did not say that, and I am not a coward! I am just protecting Scarlett from my hideousness.”
“I swear I will kill him by the end of the week. He is such a baby.”
“I am not a baby. I am very, very, very sick. Tell her what I found on Google… actually, not all of it, just the brain inflammation and death parts…and stop laughing at me. You’ll regret it if I drop dead.”
“See what I mean,” Evie whispered as she dropped her head into her hands and laughed. “God, it’s been a long week. What between him and Iri—”
With an alarming turn of speed for someone so close to death’s door, Finn came roaring into the kitchen and smothered his lucky sister and the soup container against his chest, “Hi. Hi, I’m here. Here I am. Hi, Scarlett!”
Evie pounded into his chest until she was released and gave him a look of absolute fire, breathing contempt. “What the hell is wrong with you? You and your poxy hands nearly ripped my head off? Maybe you do have bloody brain fever, you dick. Nice to meet you, Scarlett. I’ll leave you to the buffoon.” She then punched her brother in the stomach, handed him the soup, and walked out, shaking her head.
“Sisters, eh?”
“Hmm, sisters.” I smiled.
“Do you have any? Sisters or brothers? I mean, I don’t think we’ve ever talked about your family,” he said. He was standing directly before me and, much like his sister, had his face buried in his hand. Though, I believe he was doing so more as an attempt to hide his spots than out of annoyance, as Evie’s had been.
“Nope, an only child. And it’s just you and Evie?”
“Yep, just me and horror head.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Evie yelled, sounding like she was hiding in a similar position to her brother’s a few moments ago.
“Then stop listening!”
“You’re quite the comedy act, you two.” I giggled. “I should book you for the retirement party, which is what I came over to talk to you about. Well, that and to thank you for the umbrella. It’s so cute. I love it.”
“I knew you would. Evie was shopping online, and I saw the flash of color over her shoulder. I thought of you straight away.” He touched his lips and smiled down at mine. “It’s my turn to thank you now. I love soup. I think this makes us even, Red.”
