The Player's Club: Finn (7 page)

“Now you’re really hurting me.” He backed off to her relief. “All I’m saying is, we’re stuck in this situation. I know you’re only doing your job, trying to get me out of the Club, and I’m not taking it personally. I hate it that my parents are spying on me and want to control my life. That said, at least this time they’ve put a gorgeous, intelligent woman on my case. I might as well make the best of a bad situation.”

“When life gives you lemons?”

“Something like that.” He winked at her. She didn’t know anyone else who could wink and have it actually look rakish. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not attracted to me, though. You do take things too seriously.”

“Do I, now?” She frowned, feeling the same irritation she’d felt with Travis.

Finn shrugged. “I have a good time with women. We have fun. But I get the feeling that you’re not the type to just have fun.” He shot her a quick, devilish grin. “I’d hate for you to kiss me, fall madly in love with me, then decide you couldn’t live without me.”

“And there’s a danger of that?” she said, laughing at the sheer audacity of his tongue-in-cheek pronouncement.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said, and she noticed there was a glint in his eyes…something that suggested that, perhaps, there was a kernel of truth in his joke. “I’m a pretty good kisser.”

“Thank God I’m made of sterner stuff,” she countered. “Trust me, Finn. I’m not going to fall in love with you.”

“You say that now,” he muttered. “Heck, they all do.”

That’s when she knew that he meant it. “You honestly think that if I kissed you, I’d fall in love with you?”

“No. If you had sex with me, though, you probably would.” He started to leave. “A kiss would probably mean you wouldn’t stop calling me. I’ll see you on the playing field, Diana. Or at least, I’ll see
you.
Don’t think your P.I.s will be…”

Before he could finish the sentence, before she could think the better of it, she’d grabbed him, turned him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

When she released him, he let out a chuckle. She barely registered it, just as she barely registered her shock at having done something so stupid. Something that, in a split second,
seemed
like a good idea…but really, really
wasn’t
.

Then his chuckle stopped, they resumed their kiss, and just like that, her mind switched off.

She moaned softly at how amazingly good he felt. His hands circled around her waist as her fingers burrowed into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mouth was mobile and warm and oh, this man could kiss.

There was a faint honk, then another, a more impatient one.
If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop at all.

Which meant she wouldn’t be doing her job.

She always did her job.

She halted their kiss immediately. “That’s your cab,” she told him.

“Screw my cab,” he said, leaning into her, and she gently nudged him back.

“I think I’ve proven that I’m safe from your charms, Finn,” she said, striving for as cool a tone as possible. “So run along, before you get addicted to
me.
”

Finn’s eyes were wild; he seemed untameable. She trembled, her body screaming in protest as he took a step back. “This isn’t over, Diana.”

“Yes,” she said, ignoring her body’s reaction. “Yes, it is.”

She shut the door in his face.

It was over. Because it had to be.

She found her cell phone, dialed Bob’s number. “I’m working as fast as I can, Diana,” he groused.

“Pull the trigger,” she said.

Bob paused. “What, exactly, are you okaying?”

“I’ve got Finn’s cell phone number. Track him.” She closed her eyes. “Let’s finish this. I’m through playing games.”

THE NEXT NIGHT—MORNING, technically, since it was 1:00 a.m.—Finn was still grinning as he arrived at the Player’s Club meeting. This time, it was at a bar down on the Lower Haight. It looked as if the decorator had been on an acid trip. There were weird sculptures from floor to ceiling, lava-lamp-style lights and trippy music, turned low to accommodate people talking. There were Club members showing pictures of their latest completed challenges—a few others in the planning stages for the next big Player’s Club trip to Machu Picchu, or the next organized skydiving event. Three pledges made it through their challenges recently and were admitted to the Club, and now they were talking about bringing others in. There had to be at least sixty people in the after-hours bar.

“Glad you’re okay, man,” Ben, Finn’s surfing pledge, said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Jeez, thought you were gonna
die
in the water there!”

He liked Ben, but he had to admit, the kid made him feel old sometimes.

“So.” Ben rubbed his hands together. “The cannon shoot is in two weeks. Then…Everest!”

“Everest is like six months off,” Finn pointed out. “Don’t worry, we’re okay stretching the deadline because it’s such a huge challenge, but…”

Ben’s eyes were gleaming. “Actually, I think we can pull off Everest in four weeks,” he said, conspiratorially. “Six weeks, tops.”

Finn blinked. “How the hell did you manage
that?
”

“Got some sherpas that are willing,” Ben said. “If you want it badly enough, you can do anything, you know?”

“That’s great for your inspirational talk,” Finn teased, “but…I don’t know, maybe not for something like Everest.”

“You’re not chickening out, are you?”

Finn frowned. Any other time, he’d be right there with Ben. And while a part of him was clamoring,
Hell, yeah! Sign me up! Do this now, before it’s too late.

A new voice, surprisingly insistent, was asking,
What would Diana think?

How the hell had she gotten into his head?

“Okay. Show me your plan, and if it looks all right, we’ll go,” Finn said.

Ben whooped, drawing the attention of a few Club members. Finn sent him off to get a drink and promptly found himself flanked by Lincoln and Juliana, as well as new Player recruits Scott and his girlfriend Amanda, and one of Finn’s best friends, Tucker.

“Hi, guys,” Finn said, then saw a matching look on all their faces. “Crap. What’d I do?”

“Ben,” Lincoln said, nodding over at the kid who was now telling some enthusiastic story at the bar. “Great guy, very enthusiastic.”

“You’re getting shot out of a cannon.” Juliana enunciated each word.

“You know, it turns out they don’t use gunpowder,” Finn offered. “It’s a catapult, and they add some flash powder and a loud boom so it
seems
like a cannon. So it’s not half as hard-core as you think it is.”

“Really?” Tucker said, sounding disappointed. “That sucks! What a rip-off!” When the rest of the group stared disapprovingly at him, he winced. “I mean…um…”

Finn grinned.

Lincoln studied him expectantly. “We still need to talk about Everest, Finn. Unless you were planning on faking
that
by just taking a hike through Yellowstone or something.”

“How did you hear?” Finn quipped.

Lincoln glared at him.

“It’s not my fault he’s found sherpas who are willing to go up sooner than we’d planned,” Finn protested. “And I’ll go over every inch of his plan and make sure everything’s safe before I— You didn’t know about that, did you?” He felt stupid, as anger had lit up Lincoln’s face. Juliana rolled her eyes, and the rest of them seemed stunned.

“Earlier than six months?”

Finn grimaced. “I’ll make sure it’s okay, Lincoln.”

“I can’t sign off on this,” Lincoln said between clenched teeth. It was one of the rare occasions when Finn saw his best friend both pissed and frazzled. “We’ve said no to less-dangerous stunts.”

“
You’ve
said no,” Finn retorted, then felt childish.

“You’d say yes to anything, Finn.” Lincoln didn’t sound angry, merely sad. Maybe even disappointed. It rankled the hell out of Finn.

“You make it sound like I have a death wish!”

He expected some laughter or something, but suddenly, the crew was staring at him. Pointedly. Tucker even shot him a look:
Duh, dude. Why do you think we’re worried?

“Holy crap,” Finn said, figuring it out finally. “I don’t have a death wish. I
don’t
.”

“I’m just saying we can’t approve this challenge,” Lincoln said.

“What, you’re going to kick Ben and me out of the Club?” Finn laughed, but then stopped abruptly, seeing the look on his friend’s face.

“I think that maybe Ben might need a different mentor,” Lincoln said, in a low voice.

“I brought him in.” Finn felt insulted. “He barely knows anybody else here.”

“He barely knows you,” Lincoln pointed out, nodding at Ben, who was in the middle of an animated conversation with five other people. “And somehow, I think he’ll manage.”

“Listen, Linc, either you trust me, or you don’t. What kind of friend are you?”

Lincoln’s eyes widened.

“Time out,” Juliana interrupted. “Go to your separate corners. Baby, Lincoln, get me a drink, please?” Without checking to see if he’d agree to it, she looped arms with Finn and dragged him off to a corner. “We care about you. Lincoln loves you, in that bromance, guy-buddy sort of way. You’re his family, Finn,” she said emphatically. “His only family.”

“Guilting me isn’t going to change anything,” Finn said. “I’ve been guilted by the best.”

“You are so stubborn.” She poked him in the ribs, and he glared at her. “Lincoln’s not going to just stand there cheering when the closest thing he has to a brother decides to get himself killed.”

“I’m
not
going to get…”

A commotion nearby abruptly stopped their conversation. Finn saw seven men dressed similarly in dark suits. They looked like the secret service. Despite the bouncer’s insistence that it was a private party, they remained where they were, until the lead guy’s attention fell on Finn. With long, purposeful strides, he stepped right up to Finn and handed him a large manila envelope. “From Diana Song,” he said, in a clear voice that carried. “She said to deliver this to you immediately, and that you’d know what to do from here.”

Finn stared at him in disbelief. Then he burst into laughter. “
Seriously?
Okay, I am impressed. How did you find me?”

The guy shrugged. “You can ask her that. Excuse us.” He nodded at Lincoln. The men filed out.

“What was
that?
” Juliana asked, noticeably shocked.

“That’s just my family…” Finn answered, chuckling as Lincoln walked up to them, handing a drink to Juliana.

“Something I should know about, Finn?” Lincoln asked with a hint of cold skepticism.

“She’s better than I thought,” Finn mused, opening the envelope. Yeah, she was a hell of a challenge. He’d never even sensed a tail. Ms. Diana Song was turning out to be the most fun he’d had in…

He stopped abruptly as he saw the documents. Pictures…not of himself.

Of Lincoln.

And some bank statements, with a note attached, in what he assumed was Diana’s neat, precise handwriting.

It seems your friend Lincoln is head of the Player’s Club…and he also seems to be laundering money. I imagine more incriminating or at the very least embarrassing details could emerge with even more effort.