In Trouble with Him Bonus Epilogue

This is the book’s epilogue as seen from Annie’s point of view. Enjoy!

Annie

Six months later

            When I looked up from the pile of court documents on my desk, I felt a kink in my neck that came from staring down for the past two hours. Or for the past six months. I’d been working hard on several pro bono cases and had accompanied Finn to more congratulatory lunches and dinners than I could count. 

            After publishing his theory and putting the SEC on notice with his findings, he’d been named a Nobel Prize winner just over a month ago. I couldn’t have been happier for him. 

            Watching the self-effacing, evenhanded way Finn accepted the prize and spoke on podcasts and in interviews game me a new perspective on my own work and myself—from the time I’d enrolled in law school, I’d been working to prove something to the world about the place I thought I deserved in it. When what I should have been doing was focusing on doing good work. My entire purpose had shifted and with it the joy returned to my job. Still, I’d been working nearly without a break for months. That was what happened when I loved something—I couldn’t tear myself away.

Swiveling my chair around, I took in the remaining daylight before the sun dipped beneath the horizon. Note to self: I needed to turn my entire office to face the other way so I could take in the view more often. 

What good was it to have a panoramic vista in view from the back of my head?

By Thursday, Finn staged an intervention. “Can you take a half day tomorrow?” he asked, stirring cheese into an egg white omelet for breakfast. 

The idea sounded glorious and I needed the break. I’d been working my ass off on a new SEC case where the client inherited insider information and used it without realizing it was illegal. Proving it was going to be fun, and I’d become so carried away with work that I’d been monosyllabic by the time I got home each night. Happy, but narrowly-focused. Fascinated, but unhealthy from all the vending machine snacks.

“I can and I will. Do you want to have a late lunch at the beach?” We’d made a habit of taking time out from work to spend lazy afternoons whenever possible together. Plus evenings and weekends. Being with him had put the long hours spent at work into perspective. They were an important part of my life, but they weren’t the most important part.

            “Maybe,” was all he said. “Just meet me here at around one and we’ll go from there.” 

Instead of a late lunch, Finn surprised me with an afternoon Uber ride to an undisclosed location. He’d packed a bag for me—which I didn’t bother to inspect—and brought sandwiches from the good deli down the street for us to eat in the car. The driver told us he didn’t mind.

“Finn, are you going to make me guess where we’re going?”

“Babe, I know you well enough to understand that I can’t make you do anything. But you’re free to guess.” That wasn’t entirely true. There were a few things he could make me do, but none of them could be done in the back of an Uber.

“Beach?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Wine tasting?”

“Closer.”

“Really? What’s close to wine tasting?” 

“Not telling you. But it involves a bridge and a park,” he said. That really had me stumped because I still didn’t know LA well enough to picture many bridges or parks. I thought about it as we got on the freeway and headed south. 

“Orange County?” I guessed. I’d heard of the OC Great Park but I had no idea what we could do there. The bridge and the wine tasting part still threw me.

He shook his head and I could tell he was delighted at having stumped me. I leaned closer to him and kissed a tender spot beneath his ear, then breathed softly against his skin when I asked, “Is there a way I can get it out of you?”

He smirked and shook his head again. The man had self-control. My few additional guesses and attempts to tempt him didn’t work either. It wasn’t until we exited at Century Boulevard that I dared imagine that we were headed to the airport. 

“Finn…”

“Yes?”

“Are we flying somewhere?”

His broad smile gave away his plan. “Is that okay? Can I have you for the whole weekend?” he asked, picking up my hand and kissing the back of my knuckles.

I nodded and grinned back at him. “You can have me whenever and wherever you want. Should I guess where we’re going?”

“Sure.”

I thought about bridges and parks. Of course San Francisco came to mind, and Finn knew I loved it there. But his family lived all over the Bay Area, and as close as they were, I wasn’t sure that put the region at the top or the bottom of his getaway list. There was no way we could be there for a weekend without telling them and Finn wasn’t the sort to lie.

Peeking at him from the side, I surveyed his poker face. He intentionally didn’t meet my gaze. “Really?” I asked, trying to keep the excitement from bowling me over. “San Francisco?”

When he nodded, I threw my arms around him and didn’t let go until we had to walk through security. And even then, I only let go so I could be scanned and patted down by a handsy NSA lady.

***

After a night of Spanish tapas, red wine, ice cream, and sex, I slept like an exhausted puppy, tangled around Finn. His perfect morning plan led him to the hotel gym, while mine had me stretched out like a starfish in the king-sized bed under the fluffy down comforter and perfect white sheets. He’d tasked me with coming up with three places I wanted to go before noon. That was like asking a kid to choose only three rides at Disneyland.

When the plane had hovered over Oakland before making its descent, I was struck by an almost overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. It had only been seven months since I’d moved away, but it felt like eons. I wanted to go to my favorite coffee place, show Finn the view from a hiking trail near Mount Tamalpais, and walk up and down as many hills and see as many gorgeous bay views as we could. 

We had two whole days and no real plan. Even when I lived in the city, I rarely had two days without a plan. It felt damned good.

By the time Finn finished showering, I’d finished my list. I’d written it down on hotel stationery to make it official and I presented it to him in an envelope. I resisted the urge to bow. “What’s this?” he asked, throwing his towel on the rack and pulling on a pair of boxers.

“It’s my list of three things, with one backup. I listed them in order of how we should do them so we don’t have to retrace our steps.”

“You’re funny,” he said. He went to his suitcase and pulled out a grey long-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

I was undaunted in my hyper-organized plan for our morning. “These are good spots. And if we’re quick, we can fit in the bonus.”

He looked at the list, then he looked at me with a smirk. “Your bonus sightseeing spot is this hotel bed?” he asked.

I shrugged. It was a good bed and we hadn’t made sufficient use of it yet. “Or we could tear up the list and just go with the bonus.”

He chuckled. “Much as I would love to spend the entire day in this bed with you, I’m going to insist we go out. There’s too much to do in this city and I don’t want you to get home and feel sad that you missed out on that coffee place you keep raving about.”

“No other coffee compares,” I said. It had become a running debate because Finn insisted he made top-level coffee in his bedroom. I needed him to taste the lattes at Fog City Brew so he’d see there was no contest. Maybe it was the breezy city air combined with the hot frothy coffee. I couldn’t say what the key element was but I dreamed about that coffee when I wasn’t dreaming about Finn.

He read the other items on my list and shook his head, still chuckling. “These are all food things. All your sights are edible.”

I pointed at the second item on the list. “Not all of them. There’s the train museum. We have to go there. I love it.”

“Okay, so we’re getting coffee, eating cheese, and looking at trains this morning?” he asked, pulling me toward him. 

“That’s what I want to do. Coffee, trains, then the Ferry Building for stinky, washed-rind cheese,” I said, hoping he didn’t think I was crazy. 

Finn was dressed by that point and he pointed at my suitcase, which had items spilling out onto the floor. I’d been too tired the night before to organize anything. “I have to say, I like this side of you. The messy, cheese-demanding side.”

“Well, you’ve got that side of me. For two whole days.” 

It was only a couple blocks to the coffee place, and I could smell the grounds before we walked through the door. Finn took in our surroundings in the tiny shop. We sat at a communal picnic table in the middle because all the tables for two against the walls were taken. The barista worked behind a two-sided wooden counter with pastries displayed behind glass on a shelf on top. In one corner, a crate of records sat next to a turntable and patrons were always welcome to choose the music. “I like it here,” he said. He nodded and perused the titles of Sherlock Holmes books on a shelf near us. 

Once we’d ordered and gotten our lattes in tall glass cups, I took my first sip, closed my eyes, and moaned. “Oh, I missed this.”

Finn stared at me and threw his hands in the air. “Seriously? I make you coffee every morning.”

“I know and I love you for it, but you have to try this.” 

Finn sipped reluctantly, barely dipping his upper lip into the cup. Then he slurped a much larger sip and looked at me. “It’s really good. I mean, it’s… coffee… but I’ll concede that it’s an above-average cup.”

 “Thank you for lying to spare my feelings.” I reached over and wiped the foam off his lip before leaning in to kiss him. And I swear, it was not so that I could lick that extra bit of coffee off his lips. It was only partly for that.

***

I was not expecting Finn to plan the rest of our day. After handing the morning off to me, he asked me to trust him with the rest of the day. I had no reason not to trust him, but I was a little worried we might not have enough time to walk around in the Presidio and trek across to Noe Valley so I could buy a particular kind of bubble bath and facial cream I’d discovered at a tiny store there. I knew I couldn’t bring all my favorite parts of San Francisco home with me, but I wanted something.

“How tall are you, five-five?” Finn asked, guiding me to a kiosk on the sidewalk in front of two racks loaded with bikes.

“Yup, exactly,” I said. “Are we riding?”

“We’re riding.” Finn rented us bikes with baskets and locks and we rode up and down a few streets, making sure they were the right size for us both. Then we headed for my coffee place. 

Our rented bikes squeaked and chirped as we mashed the pedals to get up the hills, but after a couple minutes of panting, we reached the top of Pacific, and with it, we were blessed with a clear view between two tall buildings. “I guess I could’ve skipped the gym,” Finn said, breathless.

“Told ya.”

“Yes, but you said to skip it before you even knew we were riding.”

“What can I say, I wanted you to stay in bed with me.”

“Tomorrow. I promise,” he said.

Finn had indulged my cheese errand and had loaded up on all kinds of food from the market in the Ferry Building before he let me in on his plans for the rest of the afternoon—a picnic in Golden Gate Park with his mom.

I knew we’d visit her at some point over the weekend, but I felt nervous knowing I was about to meet her. Finn and I hadn’t really talked about the future, but I’d met most of his sisters and we’d spent a weekend with my family when they came to visit a couple months earlier. Meeting his mom felt like a step toward something more official between us. Something more real.

“Hey, slow down,” I heard Finn shout behind me. It wasn’t until I noticed my eyes tearing from the wind I was creating that I realized I’d been riding with a fervor that betrayed my querulous state. Panting and sweating, I slowed the bike and waited for Finn to catch up. 

“Sorry,” I said. “I was excited to get to the park.” My bike almost fell over beneath me when I hopped off the pedals and hit the brakes hard. “There could be fairies there. Or wood nymphs. And I don’t want to miss them, even if they plan to eat all the cheese. I’d make the sacrifice to see a wood nymph or even a bird or bug pretending to be something fanciful. I mean… who wouldn’t?”

He reached a hand out to steady my bike. Then he reached a hand out to me. “Don’t be nervous about meeting my mom. You’re going to love her, but she’s going to love you even more.”

“Who says I’m nervous?” 

He brushed back the strands of hair that had mutinied my ponytail and were flying around my face. Then he hit me with his eyes, which made me zombie compliant. “She will love you. Maybe more than she loves me.”

“You’re her only son,” I said. “I have no doubt she holds you up as a wonder of genetics.”

“Exactly.”

I felt it—the calm that washed over me when his marble-green eyes settled on mine. Only he could calm my crazy. And I was starting to see that he enjoyed it, both the crazy and the calming of it. He kissed me, which caused our helmets to bonk against each other, but it was worth the extra effort to find the right angle. 

For the rest of our ride, we stayed side-by-side unless we had to go single file to avoid getting too close to a car. Finn had spent a lot more time on a bike in his youth than I had, as evidenced by how often he took both hands off the handlebars and either gestured while he was talking or just sat up comfortably. He’d become so much more carefree in the months since his case was settled and I loved watching him riding with his hands on his hips and his knees out to the sides like a little kid.

I was a white-knuckle rider, hands on the bars unless I had to raise an arm for a signal or something. Even then, I was quick so I could return to the comfort of having both hands to steady the bike. The last thing I wanted was to ruin our weekend trip with a human yard sale all over the pavement.

All my fears of falling dissipated when we entered the park off of Arguello Boulevard and began winding down the pathways under eucalyptus and Monterrey pine trees. The familiar smells washed over me and we slowed down to navigate where we wanted to go. “I told my mom we’d be in Bunny Meadow, but we have time to ride around a bit first,” Finn said.

“Nah, let’s go straight there. I’d rather tie up the bikes and go on foot.”

He cast a glance my way and I knew he saw through me. “What? I like to walk.” He nodded and kindly didn’t accuse me of being afraid of running into a tree. Which was kind because he’d have been right.

“Come, let’s lock the bikes and set up our picnic,” Finn said, mercifully leading us to the bike racks and commencing what would surely be the highlight of my day—the consumption of the pile of cheese varieties I’d bought from a vendor at the Ferry Building. I could barely wait for his mom to arrive before sampling the spread in front of us. 

Finn’s mom was early and I loved her from the moment I saw her. How could I not? She came bounding over to us wearing a bright dress and a pair of running shoes my old sex ed teacher would have found horrifying. “Annie, I’m so happy to meet you. My daughters tell me they love you like a sister, so I won’t hesitate to adopt you.”

“You’re so sweet. It’s wonderful to meet you too,” I said. I couldn’t help beaming at her. 

“And I’m here too. Your favorite son,” Finn said, putting on a faux annoyed expression at being ignored.

“I brought bunches of love for you too,” she said, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.

The worry I’d had moments before about meeting her vanished in heartbeat. And that was before she began tasting all the cheeses and raving about them all. If I’d had any doubts about her, they were gone.

***

            After we’d devoured most of the food and his mom had peppered me with questions, Finn pulled me away to take a walk and I directed us toward the meadow in hopes of seeing a bunny. They liked to hide unless it was dawn or dusk, but I’d gotten lucky a few times in the past, so it seemed worth a try. Luck was what I needed, but not just for the rabbit-chasing effort. 

            Things had been going so well with Finn and I’d finally started to feel settled in LA. I’d started to believe I could be happy there and think of it as home. But being back in the Bay Area for barely twenty-four hours was throwing everything off. I missed it more than I’d wanted to admit. So much so that I started to wonder if… no, I couldn’t even let the thought fully formulate in my mind. I needed to keep moving forward. I couldn’t go back.

            We walked hand in hand because we couldn’t be together without some degree of contact. It was as though our bodies knew they needed each other without our minds having to make a conscious choice. And our minds knew it tool.

The weather pretty and clear, but still cold enough to need a jacket. I buttoned mine up to keep the chill out. “You cold?” Finn asked.

            “Nah, I’m good. I like this weather.” 

            I liked it, but did he? There had to have been a reason he moved to LA. Right? 

Would it be crazy to think he might want to move back?

I felt nervous all of a sudden, considering the question I wanted to ask him. It wasn’t a matter of geography. If I wanted to come back to San Francisco and he came with me, it would be a commitment to a future together. Maybe it was too soon. 

And what was I searching for, really? Certain kinds of trees or views of the bay? Sure, they made me happy and they were a beautiful backdrop to my days, but they were a part of my past. What I had in the present was so much better than that. 

            It was time, I decided. I’d done enough equivocating. I’d run out of excuses for why I couldn’t be happy. The truth was, I felt happier than I’d ever been and it had nothing to do with location. The leafy foliage and reminiscence in the park was just a bonus. The 

“Hi,” Finn said. I couldn’t help smiling at his customary opening. I liked that we already had old habits. I started to comment on it, but when I looked at Finn, he seemed nervous, which was odd for him. He always seemed so collected and sure of himself. 

“Hi,” I said. A light breeze blew a few strands of hair into my face, but Finn carefully curled them behind my ear. I loved the he looked out for me in small ways. He traced the line of my jaw.

            “I love you. I could not love you more,” he said. 

            I stood on my toes to kiss him. “I know. That’s how I love you. Boundlessly.”

            And in that moment, I knew that as much as being in San Francisco tugged at my heart, Finn tugged harder. I’d be happy living anyplace as long as we were together. With that realization, the wistful hold that my old home had on my emotions began to ebb and was replaced by the kind of calm I’d always admired in Finn, the kind of steady peace that came from knowing I was where I was supposed to be. 

I felt free. I didn’t need to cling to my past or my reliable comfort zone to be happy, and I didn’t need to know where the future led in order to embrace it. 

“You ready to search for the improbable bunny?” he asked. 

I gave him the side eye. “So skeptical, Professor. There’s always a chance.”

He smiled and took my hand. “You’re correct. I need to adjust my assumptions.”

            “You just need to believe.”

He started to object with what I felt certain was to be a well-considered argument about beliefs not substituting for probability, but before he could, a single brown bunny raced across the grass and stood motionless in front of us. We didn’t dare move for fear of scaring it away, so we stood frozen, holding hands in the field of greenery. I looked at Finn who seemed as surprised as I was delighted. And I knew that believing was enough.

THE END

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