I arched an eyebrow, spotting my chance. “Speaking of sweet deals, something’s been bugging me since before Carlos decided to addkidnappingto my resume—what happened after Tory’s party last month? You left with Mark Sinclair, didn’t you?” I couldn’t resist digging for details. Between getting kidnapped and my extended luxury hospital stay, I’d nearly forgotten about this particular mystery. Finley’s love life was more tangled than the plot of a soap opera, and I lived for the next juicy episode.
Fin’s eyebrow shot up so fast it could have won an Olympic medal. “How do you know that guy’s name?”
Ethan’s head whipped around so fast I worried for his neck. “Who’s Mark Sinclair? And how come I didn’t know you left the party with a guy?”
“Oh, honey,” Fin drawled, “you were too busy testing the durability of Tory’s guest bed?—”
“—face-first in designer pillows,” I finished with a smirk. “Quite the elegant passed-out pose, I must say.”
Turning back to me, Fin prodded, “So, if you know about Mark Sinclair, spill it. And don’t skimp on the juicy details.”
I chuckled. “Curious if he’s into you?”
With a shrug that couldn’t hide his smugness, Fin admitted, “He’s amazing in bed.”
Ethan and I choked on our drinks simultaneously, coughing and sputtering like a pair of old cars trying to start on a cold morning. “You slept with Mark Sinclair?” Ethan gasped between coughs.
Fin nodded nonchalantly. “The man is hot enough to melt steel beams, okay?” To me, he said, “Out with it, then. Spill all the juicy details about my mysterious midnight rendezvous.”
I shook my head in mirth—classic Finley to hook up with someone without even knowing theirForbeslist status. “Mark’s not just a snack, he’s the whole damn meal ticket,” I said. “He runs with Matt and James—and yes, William and Tory too. Welcome to the billionaire boys’ club.”
The revelation hit them like a thunderbolt. Ethan’s jaw dropped while Fin looked as if he’d just discovered he was sitting on a gold mine.
Fin whistled softly. “I really need to reconnect with him, then. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get my own black card. Poverty is so last season.” His face suddenly crumpled like a discarded lottery ticket. “Though the universe clearly has it out for me because yours truly forgot to get his number. Who hooks up with a billionaire and forgets to get their contact info? This disaster right here.” He pointed to himself with a groan. “I swear my life is a comedy show and I’m the punchline.” Suddenly, Fin straightened up, his eyes wild with possibility. “Oh my God, Ethan! You’re our ticket to the good life!”
“What?” Ethan nearly choked on his water.
“Tory! You need to hook up with Tory—like yesterday!” Fin was practically vibrating in his seat. “Look at Andy living the dream while we’re still counting quarters for laundry. And I just blew my one chance at billionaire romance because I’m an idiot who can’t remember to save a phone number. But you!” He pointed at Ethan dramatically. “You have Tory practically drooling over you every time you’re in the same room!”
Ethan frowned, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m not just going to hook up with any guy—even if he’s rolling in enough dough to open a bakery.”
“But he’s not just any guy,” Fin whined, throwing his hands up. “He’s Tory—the guy you’ve been crushing on harder than I crush my morning espresso. And he’s a billionaire! Do you know what this means? We could all be living the high life! No more instant ramen! No more generic brand cereal!”
Ethan sighed heavily, a wistful look crossing his face. “Tory’s not interested in me that way.”
Fin scoffed, leaning forward like he was about to share state secrets. “Are you blind? The man looks at you like you’re his favorite dessert, and honey, he’s got expensive taste. Don’t let my tragic romantic failure be in vain—one of us needs to score a billionaire, and you’re our last hope!”
Ethan exhaled another one of those tragic sighs, his expression a perfect portrait of dramatic despair. “I’ve told you a hundred times, Fin. Tory’s not into me like that.”
“But he’s still interested, isn’t he?” I prodded, always the instigator when it came to their love lives—or lack thereof.
Fin nodded so hard I thought his head might unscrew from his neck. “He’s absolutely interested! And I want to see my brother happy—and living the good life while we’re at it.” His eyes took on a manic gleam. “Tory’s just as generous as Matt, maybe even more! Have you seen the women he dated? They’re like walking fashion shows, strutting around in clothes thatprobably cost more than our yearly rent. And don’t even get me started on their cars—we’re talking vehicles that look like they could transform into spaceships!”
“I’ve seen them bragging all over social media,” Fin continued, desperation creeping into his voice. “Designer bags, luxury vacations, jewelry that could blind you from space—Tory showers them with everything! You’re our ticket to the good life, Ethan!”
Ethan chuckled—a sound akin to watching a kitten tangle with a ball of yarn. “Are we really sinking that low now? Hunting for filthy rich guys to date?”
“Low?” Fin gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “There’s nothing low about wanting to upgrade from frozen dinners to five-star restaurants! Think about it—no more dollar store snacks, no more checking the couch for bus fare. We could be living the high life!”
Ethan’s expression softened as he watched his brother’s dramatic display. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Impossibly right,” Fin corrected, still not giving up. “And you know I’m right about Tory. The way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the last crumb cake on earth and he’s been on a sugar-free diet for years.”
I could see Ethan wavering, a slight blush creeping up his neck. Taking pity on both brothers—one desperate for luxury, the other desperate to escape this conversation—I decided to intervene.
“Alright, enough billionaire hunting for one day,” I announced, waving over our server. “Let’s order dessert. My treat—or should I say, Matt’s treat?”
Fin’s mood flipped like a pancake on Sunday morning, his previous despair vanishing at the mention of sweets. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! If I can’t have a billionaire, at least I can have billionaire-funded chocolate cake!”
