Finn (Casella Cousins #3) - Kathryn Shay Page 0,6
covered, Finn thought. And it often got him in trouble with his young store manager.
“And this is one a majority of men have trouble with: Taking responsibility for their own actions. Not blaming the woman if he’s mad at her.”
Well, hell. He could remember saying to Millie, You drive me nuts when you get on one of your tirades.
“For example?” the author asked.
“If a man gets angry at a woman for telling him the truth, he blames her for being unsupportive. That’s not taking responsibility for his own insecurities.”
Finn grumbled something, then noticed the two women who’d been doing free weights near the TV, staring at him.
When one caught his gaze, she called over, “You know you’re talking to the TV?”
“Um, no, I didn’t realize that. Thanks.”
“Who’s Millie?” the other teased.
“What?”
“You keep saying her name.”
“Yeah, probably because she’s the only woman I ever get in arguments with. We work together.”
He got off the treadmill without even slowing down and strode to the elliptical on the other side so he couldn’t see or hear the TV debate.
His legs worked hard as he tried to push Millie from his mind. Which didn’t happen. So, he let himself wonder if they had a good relationship. On his end, he trusted her with his beloved store. He respected her opinion, conceded sometimes, but she yelled at him for patronizing her. He tried not to be. And yes, of course since she was his employee, he kept himself from her, from letting her know him too well. Once or twice, something bubbled out of him he’d rather she not know, but that was rare.
He turned his mind to his romantic relationships with women. Once or twice, they did complain about him. It went something like,
You need to talk to me more.
I talk.
Not about yourself. How you’re feeling.
I’m not crazy about baring my soul.
The women who had accepted that, like Sabrina, he continued to see. Others, ones he liked, said he was a stranger to them and called it quits. Was there something wrong with him?
A third woman came in the gym and she reminded him of Millie. Her long dark ponytail swung sassily as she crossed to the treadmill and began to walk. She was tall, like his manager, too.
He wondered if the color of her eyes was like Mille’s—the purest brown he’d ever seen.
Goddamn it, he was doing it again.
* * *
“Now, set your watch for two minutes.” Millie smiled at her coworker, Erin O’Grady. They’d been friends since college.
“All right.” She fiddled with her wristband. “Ready, set, go?”
Millie took off on a sprint with Scout at her heels. Her long legs carried her down the track, and her breathing stayed even. She appreciated the sun on her face and the warmth of an October Indian Summer day.
“Stop!” Erin called out then jogged up to her. “Let’s walk so we can talk.”
“Fine by me.”
“You did that sprint in under two minutes. How do you stay in such great shape?”
“You know, silly. I walk to work if I can. And home. Once it gets dark, I take the subway, but I like being outside given how much time I spend at the store. Also, Scout and I go for hikes on my days off.”
Erin tied her long hair back into a pony tail while they walked. “You spend too much time at Fitzgerald’s.”
“Yeah, probably, but I got a big raise recently.”
Her friend hesitated. Her dark blue eyes shadowed.
“Erin, tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Do you need the extra money to live?”
“No, I need it to open my own store. I’ve banked every raise I’ve gotten, and then some. But I don’t have enough yet to use as collateral for a loan.”
“I wish work didn’t take up all your free time. And if you get your own store, you’ll be even busier.”
Millie stopped walking. “Haven’t I been there for you, Erin, when you needed me?” Her tone was genuine. She was concerned she might have let Erin down.
“No, no, you have. I’m concerned because you run yourself ragged trying to do everything—watch over your grandparents, work, volunteer at how many different places now?”
“Since the new soup kitchen opened up, I’ve cut back other work to focus on hungry people.”
“You’re so serious for someone so young.”
“I’m older than my years. Comes from losing my parents when I was sixteen.”
“Yeah, I guess. But I don’t think that’s good for you.”
Millie didn’t reply.
“Sorry if that offends you, Mil. You’re twenty-six. You should be out partying with your friends.”
“I guess. But