“I always thought I had lots of friends.” Alex leaned forward to cross her arms on the table and buried her face in them.
“You have many people whom you know. Tons of acquaintances. Only a few real friends,” Eddie chimed in. “The point Gabriella is making,” he smiled as Alex smirked at the nickname, “is that you allowed Fin into your private domain immediately. None of that ‘try before you buy’ nonsense. You and he were tight as soon as you met. That’s rare, girl. And inquiring minds want to know why you ended it before it could take off and go anywhere.”
Alex sat up. “Who saidIended it?”
Eddie lowered his chin and pierced her with his gaze.
She dismissed the argument and considered his point while Gabe plated the food. As they moved to the dining table, she commented, “It was kind of like insta-trust, wasn’t it?”
Alex sighed and recounted the events from the past two weeks, starting with how she’d learned about the article and everything that had followed. She told them she’d already concluded she might have acted in haste and beaten herself up over it.
“Why haven’t you called him?” Eddie asked.
“I did. Several times. He never answered. He’s avoiding my calls.”
Gabe’s brow furrowed. “Did you call him when you were at your parents’ place?”
“Yeah, why?”
“They get shit reception. Remember when Felix got sick and we couldn’t reach you because your phone never rang?”
“But this wasn’t the same. My calls went through. The phone rang on the other end.”
Eddie jumped in, “But did they?” He sipped his wine before adding, “I think you should try again.”
Alex stared at him, then decided she needed a break from the emotional barrage and changed the subject. “Anyway, what’s new at the restaurant, Gabe?”
The guys, recognizing the delaying tactic, let her off the hook and moved on to what was new in their lives.
Later, as she lay in bed cuddling Felix, she went over all the feedback she’d gotten from her loved ones. She had definitely screwed up. She needed to make it up to Fin and figure out how to fix things between them. Obviously, she cared more for this man than she’d realized. Alex grew drowsy, and memories of happier times carried her off to sleep.
Chapter26
Hope
January
Fin stretched his neck left, then right. They had signed the deal for the production studio in Glasgow last week and had finished the first walk-through this morning. He was on his way to a meeting with the production team in their temporary office, where they would discuss getting everything set up in the new building. This was the first time Fin had worked in the back end of filmmaking to this degree, and he wavered between excited and drained at the work involved.
On top of keeping busy, he wasn’t sleeping. Every night, he tossed and turned, tormented by memories of Alex and their near-perfect time together. Following Ethan’s advice, he’d called her over the holidays, but his calls went straight to voicemail and she never returned them. Fin got the message loud and clear. She wasn’t interested. He rubbed the back of his neck and tucked his thoughts away as his driver approached their stop.
As he stepped out of the car, a familiar face greeted him along with her film crew. She aimed the microphone at him like a weapon as she spoke.
“Finley McAlister, how’s the new production company going?” Miranda Cole asked.
Was she being a tad more civil than usual? Or was Fin simply so exhausted she no longer riled him?
“Good morning, Ms. Cole. Your resourcefulness never fails to amaze,” he replied.
“Finley, you’ve been occupied with your new production company. Does this mean you’re giving up acting? Is your future now behind the lens?”
Fin stopped and considered the question. “My long-term business partner and I have teamed up with Mac McBrewster to create MPM Productions. Our first film under the new label is in production. I’m wearing two hats on this project, both executive producer and lead actor. To answer your question, I’m expanding my playbook to work both in front of and behind the camera.”
“And what about Alex Tanner? You guys were hot and heavy for a while, but we haven’t seen much of her lately.”
Fin raised his eyebrows at the reporter’s soft tone. The inquiry came across as a sincere question rather than an accusation, as they had always sounded in the past.
“As always, my private life is private. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He made to push through when suddenly, the weight of the last few weeks pulled at him. He turned back to the camera. “That’s wrong. My private life has never been private, thanks to those in your profession. Regardless of how fiercely I work to protect myself and my loved ones from public scrutiny, I can’t win. I’ve now lost two women I loved because of the news media. It makes me question whether any of this is worth it. If you find me disappearing behind the lens, as you say, it’s because I’m not interested in living in a fishbowl any more. If I must work behind the scenes to avoid the scrutiny and interference, I will. Good day to you, Ms. Cole.”
