Gwen had been visiting during a carnival when she first laid eyes on him; the gentleman in the well pressed suit; style only second to his subtle manners and good looks. Before she could reveal her secret, David had spoken in her ear.
”Stop staring, girl. That’s him. The bastard who wants to buy half this town and do Hell-knows-what with it.”
And so Gwen hadn’t said anything at all, even though she knew he had seen her; knew he had locked eyes with her across the field and became just as shell-shocked as she was.
“And then you come and ease the pain; I don't want to lose this feeling… Ohhhh,” the girls trailed off, somehow managing to sync their end notes and hands in perfect rhythm, causing the audience to clap and cheer; whistling as they took a bow. Finn, however, only caught her eye for the briefest moment, and raised his glass. She dipped her head, ever so slightly, in acknowledgement, before following the other three off the stage. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him get up, slipping on his jacket and leaving a bill for the waitress. And then, he scribbled something on a napkin, folding it in half and placing it on the chair.
“You ready to go home, kid?” David asked, when she got back to him. “I’m beat.”
“Old man,” she replied, teasing him, and then shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m actually going to text a bar find from last time I was here… See if he’s up for a little something.” She wiggled her eyebrows for affect.
“Who?” David asked, confused. The entire town was in the Grill that night, it seemed. Gwen only smiled.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she replied, which made him roll his eyes.
“Fine. If your booty call doesn’t come through, you know your way home.”
“Yep,” she kissed him on the cheek. “See ya later.”
Once she was sure he was out the door, and that no one was really paying attention to her anymore, she slipped through the crowd, towards the side exit that she had seen Finn go out of. As she passed his chair, she dipped her hand down, casually sweeping up the napkin. She waited until she was out the door to unfold it.
Hilton Hotel, Rivers Road. Room 394 was all it said. The Hilton hotel was in the next town over, a bigger place that the locals often referred to as ‘the city’. She checked her phone as she walked to her rental car, realizing it was just past midnight. This really was a booty call, or so it seemed.
Gwen got a little lost on the way there, taking the wrong dirt path out of town, but once she found the highway, she made up for lost time, going nearly time and half the speed limit, her palms sweating in anticipation. Pulling into the parking lot, she checked her reflection in the mirror before getting out, her bare legs getting goose bumps in the night air.
The lobby of the Hilton was what she was used to; having basically lived in hotels since she was 16 and on Broadway, despite her L.A. home. She took the stairs instead of the elevator, wanting to delay things a bit as her brain turned over the facts.
She hadn’t seen Finn for nearly two years. He had been a wealthy hotel owner even then, offering to put up her entire cast in exchange for being named the ‘official’ hotel of the cast. She was young and carefree, on top of the world, and he was wealthy and secure, and their romance had been whirlwind and unexpected. She had told no one, then, about the fact that they shared her hotel room for two months; had told no one they had a love nest and whispered secrets in the dark. In the end, there were too many differences between their worlds, too many things that would need to change before they could be together. She had also told no one about the hole he had left in her heart. For Gwen had told him, told the world she didn’t believe in true love, and he claimed not to either.
So why was she nearly shaking as she knocked on his door?
He opened it, still dressed, although his jacket was off and his tie was loosened. Without a word, she fell into his arms, her lips devouring his as if breathing was optional. She hadn’t quite realized how peaceful and calming his arms were until she was in them, and then it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Finn gave the best hugs she had ever known, his entire focus on her, and nothing else.
“Oh, baby!” He pulled her close, tangling his fingers in her hair, and breathing in her scent. “Oh baby. What the hell are we going to do?”
“I really prefer not to talk about the future,” she replied, nuzzling her face into his neck and feeling his pulse beat strong. “Let’s talk about the past. What did you think of my song?”
“I think you damn near killed me singing that song,” he whispered, unwilling to let her go. “That used to be our song.”
“I thought she knew, when she chose it. I thought, somehow, she knew everything,” Gwen gave a little laugh, finally pulling back to look at him. The hazel eyes were still the same, bottomless and liquid, although they looked tired tonight, a few more lines under them and the shadows evident. He felt thinner than he was a few years ago, some of the lean muscle given away to bone. He works too hard she thought, as she hugged him. “Hell, she asked me if I knew the song and I damn near told her everything.”
“Is that David then?” he inquired, finally letting go of her long enough to close the door. “The one you were with? The platonic love of your life?” He was teasing her, she could see no jealousy in his eyes. But then, there never had been. Without true love, there was never jealously, or so they kept telling each other. But she appreciated it; past boyfriends had never understood her having a male best friend.
She smirked at that.
“Indeed. You remember me talking about David and yet you didn’t remember that Hanover Heights was the town his family founded?”
“I remember your lips. The way your eyes used to look at me,” he was teasing her now, taking her hand and leading her to the couch in the large suit, where she obliged him by folding herself to sit on it. He sat beside her, a bit formally, but still with her hand in his. “Oh, how I missed you, love.”
“I missed you too,” she said, after a moment. “Although for a while, I didn’t want to admit it.”
He shrugged, reaching to uncork a champagne bottle that was in an ice bucket by the couch.
“We couldn’t be together, then. There was no point in dwelling on it.”
“And we can’t be together now,” she replied, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I couldn’t do that to David.”
“So you’re here to plead for the life of the town?” he said, eyes sparkling as he poured her a flute of champagne. She shook her head, taking it.
“No. I’m not going to do that to you either. I’m not getting in the middle of this. I came here to see you.”
“I’m glad you did,” he replied, watching her. After a moment, he sighed, leaning back. “How have you been, Gwen? I’ve been following your career with interest. You are doing well for yourself.”
She nodded, taking a sip, the champagne sharp and deliciously cold against her tongue.
“Yep. I just signed a yearlong contract on the West End, so I’ll be in London once this show is done. I’m going to be Meg Giry in Phantom of the Opera 2.”
“2!” he exclaimed, smiling at her. “That’s new.”
“Debut performance,” she grinned at him. He dipped his head, taking a sip of champagne, and then, to her alarm, chocking harshly on it. Since it was liquid, there was no need for the Heimlich maneuver, but it still took several thumps on the back before his airways cleared. As he attempted to regain control of his breath, he leaned against her, rolling up one sleeve that had gotten wet with his sudden movement. Placing an arm around him, she looked down and then gasped.