Дебби Макомбер - Starry Night

“Great,” Sophie returned enthusiastically. “Then we’ll come to your place. Does six work?”

Carrie glanced at Finn, knowing he could hear the conversation, and he shrugged as if to say it was her decision. “Sure. We’ll see you then.” Carrie would have preferred to spend the night with just her and Finn, but she had more or less been manipulated into agreeing. Setting her phone aside, she wrapped her arms around Finn’s waist. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked. “I can call Sophie back and tell her we’ve changed our minds.”

“It’ll be fine. I liked your friends.” He downplayed her concern, kissed her cheek, and brought their turkey-salad sandwiches to the table.

Sophie and Bruce arrived at six, bringing flowers and chocolate-dipped strawberries for dessert. Her friends wore matching Santa hats. The flowers became the centerpiece, and the meal was served. Conversation flowed smoothly throughout dinner. For obvious reasons, the answers to questions directed at Finn were vague. Sophie was the one who asked one question after another, almost as if she were conducting an interview. At one point, Carrie opened her mouth to stop her, an uneasy feeling filling her chest, but Finn pressed his hand over hers, reassuring her that all was fine.

Following the meal, Bruce and Finn went into the living room to watch a college football game while Sophie and Carrie cleared the table.

The instant they were out of earshot, Sophie hissed, “Who do you think you’re kidding? That’s Finn Dalton.”

Just as she’d suspected when Sophie started hitting Finn with a barrage of questions, her friend had seen through their little masquerade.

Carrie started to explain when Sophie quickly cut her off. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

“All right, all right, yes, it’s Finn. Paul is his middle name.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Who did you think you were fooling, Carrie?”

“Do you remember,” Carrie said, grabbing hold of her friend’s forearm, “you said that Finn Dalton could be walking down the streets of Chicago and no one would even know it was him? Well, guess what, he is, and you’re right, no one knows.”

“Carrie, I’m worried about you. Surely you realize this relationship isn’t going to work. Long-distance relationships rarely do. The two of you are night and day, oil and water.”

“Well, to this point we seem to be coming along rather nicely,” Carrie countered, unwilling to let her friend rain on her parade. Not for anything would Carrie give up on her and Finn.

“For the love of heaven, why haven’t you written the article?” Sophie demanded. “We both know what that would mean to you and your career. You could have your choice of jobs with any newspaper. You’re always talking about moving back to Seattle one day. This is your golden opportunity.”

“The article is off the table.” Carrie rinsed the dirty dishes and set them inside the dishwasher, not wanting to have this conversation. “I’d rather not discuss this, Sophie.”

“Why can’t you write it?” Sophie wasn’t willing to let this go.

Carrie straightened and faced her friend head-on. “Finn asked me not to.”

“What?” Sophie all but exploded.

Carrie hurriedly glanced around the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room to be sure Finn hadn’t heard any part of this conversation. Both men appeared caught up in the football game. Sighing with relief, Carrie turned back to her friend.

“Keep your voice down, would you?”

“Sorry, but you need to think this through; give me one good reason why you aren’t writing that article. Just one.” She held up her finger and threatened to wag it with every word.

The answer should be obvious. “In case you hadn’t figured it out, I’m in love with Finn.”

“You barely know the guy,” Sophie challenged.

“I know him well enough.”

“Listen, Carrie, I realize you think you’re in love, but you aren’t. This is a classic case of wild infatuation. Opposites attract, right?” She didn’t wait for a response. “You’ve gone bonkers for him, and it’s understandable. He’s not bad looking, and he seems to be a nice guy, but tell me, do you honestly see yourself picking berries out in the wilderness in order to survive?”

Sophie was right about one thing; Carrie couldn’t see herself living her life in Finn’s cabin, raising a family in such a limited environment. Still, she wasn’t willing to give up Finn.

“What about your career?” Sophie challenged next.

“I can write anywhere.”

“You can,” Sophie reluctantly agreed. “You’re smart and talented. But you can’t seriously be considering giving up this golden opportunity.”

Carrie lowered her voice to a whisper. “I won’t betray Finn. I’m not that kind of person.”

“I can’t bear to see you make this sacrifice,” Sophie insisted. “You’d be a fool not to take advantage of what you know about him.”

Carrie refused to listen to this any longer. “Stop, Sophie. I said I’m not doing it, and I mean it. End of story.”

Sophie gave a disgusted shake of her head. “Don’t you see what he’s doing?”

“What are you talking about? He trusts me, and I trust him.”

“Aren’t you afraid he might be using you?”

“Using me? For what?” The idea was so preposterous that Carrie nearly laughed out loud.

“To keep track of what you’re doing so you won’t write the article,” Sophie explained.

Carrie shook her head, finding this conversation almost comical. “Finn isn’t like that.”

“Are you sure?” Sophie challenged. “Take my advice and admit that this relationship isn’t going anywhere. If you hang on, you’ll only be setting yourself up for heartache. I’m your friend, and I have your best interests at heart.”

Carrie actually felt sorry for her. “You are getting to be such a cynic, Sophie. How can you say these things?”

“How can you be sure he isn’t with you so that you won’t write the article?” Sophie asked. “Against all odds, you found him. You know too much.”

“Stop,” Carrie insisted. “I don’t want to hear it.” She was finished with this conversation. She tossed the dish towel down on the counter, jerked the Christmas apron loose from her waist, and stuffed it in a drawer. “I’m done listening to you,” she said.

Abruptly, she turned away from her friend, and to her shock she found Finn standing in the doorway.

Sophie cast her an apologetic glance, murmured, “Oops,” and then scooted past Finn. “Hey, Bruce, time for us to leave.”

“But the game …”

“You can watch it from my place.”

Carrie waited until she heard the front door click closed. “How much of that did you hear?” she asked.

Finn had his arms crossed over his muscular chest. His frown compressed his forehead. “I heard enough.”

“Don’t be offended by Sophie. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She certainly doesn’t know my heart.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Finn …”

“You mean to say you never guessed what caused my change in attitude while we were in the cabin?”

“I …” She frowned. “No …”

“When you first arrived I was determined not to give you a single bit of information, and then you riled me to the point where I said far more than I ever intended. Very clever of you, by the way.”

“I didn’t mean … That wasn’t my intention.” He couldn’t honestly believe that the argument about his mother had been prompted by anything other than exactly what it was. She hadn’t been looking for a way to unearth his motivations so she could share them with the rest of the world. He couldn’t actually believe that, could he?