“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me?” She swipes the tear from her face, as if annoyed she allowed herself to cry. “Forget the fact that someone was photographing us while we were intimate—which, if I’d known you were the talk of the British press, I would never have put myself in that situation—you’ve made a laughingstock of me and everything I stand for. How will anyone take me seriously as a conservationist when I’m seen dating and having dinner with the land developers who threaten everything I’ve worked for?”
Of course she’s right. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest about who I was. But if I had, would you have got to know me still?”
“Get to know you?” She huffs. “I have no clue who you are!”
“I’m the same man I was last week. I’m the same man I was last night.”
“I don’t even know your real name. One paper calls you Jones, the other Fitzpatrick. Who are you?”
“I’m just Finn. That’s all I ever want to be.”
“The sign’s been there all along. You’re not a noble eagle. You’re a shark.” Another tear drips onto her cheek and I want to wipe it away, but the stony stare and venom from her mouth keeps me at bay.
“You bit off a chunk of my heart and ate it for breakfast. I won’t allow you to take any more pieces of me. I want you to leave.”
I collect my shoes from the floor, but my feet won’t move. Every muscle fighting to make her see reason, but she hates me. I swallow the lump in my throat. My mouth tastes like battery acid as I force my body to turn around.
Before I step out of the awning, I glance over my shoulder at Shelly. “You know what’s ironic? You’reprobably one of the few people I’ve ever been myself with.”
The sun on my face contrasts with the coldness from her stare, but it does nothing to warm me. Walking barefoot on the dewy grass is like needles prickling my soles with each step I take away from her.
I should have known this is how it ends for us. I’m worse than a shark. A spineless jellyfish with a poisonous sting. Acid rises in my throat, making it difficult to breathe as I slip my shoes on and slump into my car behind her van.
I’ll give her some time and then reach out again to apologise. She has to forgive me. Without her, there’s nothing here for me.
Chapter Twenty
SHELLY
My small heels click on the tiled floor of the planning council offices. I smooth a clammy palm down my silk blouse as if straightening out invisible creases.
Clutching my laptop under my arm, I strut down a long corridor, following a member of staff. As I channel my spirit animal, the turtle, I hope to teach the planning office wisdom about the ecosystem in our waters and on our beaches. We need this more than we need another luxury apartment block.
“The conference room is just up ahead, Miss Myrtle,” the lady from reception says.
Men’s laughter comes into earshot as we approach the large wooden doors with frosted glass. I’m sure they’re all having a laugh at my expense. My cheeks heat, wondering if they’ve all seen the newspapers.
She knocks on the door and opens it. “Miss Myrtle is here.”
The laughter quietens. “Send her in,” a man’s voice says.
Inhaling a deep breath, I feign confidence. Something I’ve mastered recently after a week of sniggers, whispers, and stares. I straighten my green jacket and matching knee-length skirt, a classy outfit Lennon picked out for me from her thrift store. Today I mean business and a bunch of chuckling hyenas will not stop me from getting my point across.
“I’ll leave you to it, miss.” The lady walks back down the hall and I step into the room. Tall glass windows give the perfect view of the river and town from the second floor. A man gestures to the front of the conference table, where a presentation screen awaits me.
“Thank you for seeing me today. I’ll just set this up and then begin the presentation.” Setting my laptop down on the stand, I glance around the conference table at all the members of the planning department. My heart skips a beat.
Finn straightens in his seat next to his father. All the confidence I’d summoned evaporates in an instant. With trembling fingers, I open my laptop, then fumble with the wires to connect to the screen.
The pulse in my temple drowns out the clearing of throats and scrapes of chairs behind me.
A shadow covers my laptop. Finn’s rough hand wraps around mine as he takes the lead from me. “Let me help you with that, Miss Myrtle.”
Tingles travel up my arm, my body betraying me as it always does in his presence. “Thank you.” My knees weaken. After weeks of preparation, I’m suddenly a fumbling mess.
Finn turns on my laptop and makes sure it’s linked to the presentation monitor. An image of an emergence fillsthe big screen, along with my desktop files and folders. Before he walks away, he leans in and whispers, “Relax. You got this.”
My skin breaks out in goosebumps where his breath fans my neck. I was fine before I saw him. I had no idea he was going to be listening in on my speech.
