But even with this big change on the horizon and a week full of phone calls and contracts and picking out office furniture... a whole week without Finn around is weird. I almost call him about a thousand times, just to tell him what I did all day, or share my excitement with him about the job with Sal.

But as soon as I pull my phone from my purse and notice the complete lack of texts, calls, or emails from him, I manage to fight the urge to let him back in.

Salvatore mentions him at lunch, just over a week after Finn split town. “Your boyfriend is quite—”

I point my fork at him. “Finn is not my boyfriend.”

Sal holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, your friend, Finn—is that better?—is a class act. He worried the damage on his boat might cost more than the value of using it for the set and said he was unable to work with us at this time, but he did suggest some great options up in the area and agreed to be our primary consultant for Release Horizon.”

“Oh?” I can’t tell if the maniacal drumming of my heart means I’m elated that Finn will be involved in some way and has taken the professional initiative to call Salvatore, or if I’m terrified that I am going to completely lose my shit when I inevitably see him at some point.

“We’ll head up there next week to check out some boats.” Salvatore looks up when my fork clangs loudly on my plate.

“Next week? But filming doesn’t start until April.”

“You work for me now, Tulip,” Salvatore reminds me, using my family’s pet name for me to take the edge off his gentle chastisement. “I need you up there. Is coming along to Canada a problem for you?”

“Obviously what’s going on with me and Finn has nothing to do with any of this. Sorry, Sal. I just had a moment. I’m fine.”

He pushes his chin out, doing his best Godfather. “You want I should break his face?”

“No, I’d be devastated if you took the opportunity from me.”

I take a bite of sandwich, chew, and swallow. I leave out the part where I actually like Finn’s face.

“God, I hope you’re not making a mistake bringing me on for all this,” I say. “I know the business, but are you sure you wouldn’t like someone with more—”

“I’ve got enough experience for the both of us,” he says, shrugging as he spears a green bean. “You know how these things work, and I get to train you to be exactly what I need you to be. I like your backbone and I’ll get you up to speed. It’s hard to find people with your combination of loyal, smart, and ballsy.”