Hooked [Complete]

23. Breaking Up Is Easy To Do

Author's Note:

Song for the Chapter: Not Big by Lily Allen. OMG, this one is so perfect for Carrie in this chapter. Hilarious! Love it!

Carrie strafed the strings of her guitar with the final victorious chord of her set, and the crowd at Malone's hooted with enthusiasm. She smiled. Acoustic folk singer was a new gig for her, but she found she liked strumming a guitar, and the singing, although she couldn't lose herself quite like she did with the fiddle. The college kids liked it better, though. Particularly loud were the kids from Hearne's class seated at the front table...Grace and Susan, Tandie and Leander, and Lana. She'd been so caught up in the set she hadn't seen them come in. She waved at them, and Susan rose a little unsteadily and leaned over the stage, spilling part of the shot she offered Carrie.

Carrie bowed her thanks and she exchanged her guitar for the drink as she dropped gracefully from the stage.

"Join us!" Tandi urged, and the others all chimed in.

Carrie took the seat beside Lana, who was less drunk, and less jovial than the others.

"Uh-oh," Carrie said. "Not another fight with Finn?"

"Not exactly." Lana said distractedly, offering Carrie her beer. Really, it was amazing Malone's didn't get shut down—there were practically no legal age drinkers in this place. "I just haven't seen him in a few days. Says he's been working."

"Working? I thought you said he had a trust fund."

"He does." Lana bit her lip. "But if he has a job, that's good. Really good. He could stand to learn how the other half lives. But I guess I'm worried that he's just...putting me off."

"Hmmm, looks likes he wants to put you on," Carrie nodded toward the door.

Sandy-haired Finn was swinging in, his gaze already locked on Lana in that heated, trepidatious way of young men. That please-come-fuck-me-wait-I'm-afraid-I-love-you look. His eyes bored into Lana as he lifted his hand and held up a finger, indicating he needed a minute. Then his gaze moved onto a man in expensive trousers and shoes sitting with his back to the bar, a glass of untouched wine behind him, his arms crossed like he was presiding over the place. Sidestepping his way through the tables, Finn approached the man, speaking to him with familiarity. The man looked down his aquiline nose at Finn, listening like he was bored.

"Isn't that—?" Lana asked Carrie, finishing her question with her eyes.

"Yep," Carrie nodded, taking a long swallow of Lana's beer as she watched the two in speculation. "That's my new beau. In all his glory." Mercury was very handsome, in a cold-blooded, fair-haired, secret agent sort of way, but truthfully...the newness was already wearing off.

"How does Finn know him?" Lana asked.

Carrie's eyes narrowed. "Let's find out." She pulled Lana from the chair and weaved toward the two men with the grace of an otter.

"The whole fleet of RV's was delivered this morning. Luxury, fully loaded, all completely hooked up, as of half an hour ago." Finn was saying. "And the campground is bought out through May—exclusively yours. The bribes were substantial, though—alot of unhappy campers getting kicked out of their spots."

The man shrugged. "Money well spent. I cannot abide the local contingent. They'll have to find somewhere else to make their moonshine and play their banjos." His accent was crisp, aristocratic, the tone was pure arrogance.

"Don't be such a snob, Merck," Carrie said overly bright, casting an embarrassed look toward Lana, as she sat beside him and draped her elbows back against the bar. "I like banjos—they pair nicely with a fiddle. And moonshine has become quite...trendy."