A determined look comes to Finley’s eyes. “You have to get even.”
“Twenty-five years later?” I ask. “There must be a statute of limitations on that kind of thing.”
She shakes her head which causes her sleek blonde bob to sway back and forth. I’m busy wondering if it’s a soft as it looks when she replies, “Not on something that diabolical.”
“My mom and dad are in their sixties,” I tell her. “I don’t want to do anything shocking enough that I’d give one of them a heart attack.”
“You don’t have to fill their house with boa constrictors or boobytrap their front door with a bucket of red paint.”What kind of pranks is Finley used to pulling?
“I would never do anything like that,” I assure her.
A thought suddenly pops into my head and before I can censor it, I blurt out, “I could move back home and tell them my relocation was the prank. Neither of them was happy I left New York.”
Finley’s frown causes her eyebrows to nearly touch. “Move home? Why would you do that?”
“I’m not sure this was the right move for me,” I confess. “Don’t get me wrong, there are parts of being here that I really like, but it’s also very foreign-feeling.”
“It was the pirate pictures, wasn’t it?” Her shoulders sag in defeat. “I’m truly sorry about those, Thomas.”
“If anything,” I tell her, “That was the highpoint of being in Elk Lake. I can assure you I would never have had that experience back home.”
“MaybeIshould move there,” she teases. “It sounds like they might need me.” Her green eyes sparkle mischievously.
“You’d have more business than you’d know what to do with,” I tell her. I’m not sure that’s really the case, but then again, I’m not sure it isn’t. People in New York City are known for being quite adventurous and what better undertaking than playacting?
Finley stands up and stretches her arms above her head before walking back to the set. I follow behind and take my place in the spotlight. “I could never live in a big city,” she says. “Too much noise.”
“You get used to it,” I tell her. “I’ve lived there my whole life, and I barely hear it anymore.” That’s the truth, too. The silence of Elk Lake is way more disconcerting than the noise of the city.
“Iwouldn’t get used to it,” she assures me.
For some reason, I feel the need to challenge her. “I bet you would.”
“No, Thomas, I wouldn’t.” She sounds so certain, I decide to let it go.
Finley approaches me and touches my face with her pointer finger. She turns my chin toward the light. “Where are you from?” I ask her.
“Central Illinois.” After a beat, she adds, “Small farming town.”
“Are your parents farmers?” She shakes her head, but doesn’t offer any other information. So, I ask, “Is your family still there?”
Her chin bobs up and down three times, which I’m starting to think is her standard.
“Do you ever think of going back?”
Finley’s eyes narrow like the very thought haunts her. “I willneverlive there again.” Emphasis on thenever.
“Why is that?”
She lets her camera drop again. Then she approaches me slowly. When she’s within reach, she stops and adjusts one of the lights. “I’m going to need you to stop talking, Thomas.”
“But I want to know …”
“Now,” she orders. Except for small demands on her part—chin up, turn to the right, smolder more!—the rest of our session is silent. While that can be a rattling experience with some people, it’s actually quite pleasant with Finley. It’s rare to find someone you can be comfortable around without the need for constant chatter.
The only problem is I want to know more about her. Finley is having an odd effect on me. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life, which is not a usual reaction I have to people. I suddenlywonder what makes her tick. What are her likes and dislikes? What are her favorite foods, books, and television shows?
That’s when it hits me. I like Finley Harper a lot. Her uniqueness makes her a thousand times more appealing to me than other women. Although, she’s currently not letting me talk, so I’m not sure how to go about asking her out on a date.
