Page 21 of Making Home with You (The Rockport Beach #3)

Sarah

I spend the better part of the afternoon finishing up Kelsey’s business plan and branding for the inn, and it reminds me why I majored in marketing and public relations.

It’s something I truly enjoy doing, but hell, it’s nearly impossible to break into the business when you have virtually no experience.

I’m hoping Kelsey profits from what I’ve done and lets me add it to my portfolio, because right now I need all the help I can get to get out of this stupid job with my own personal harasser.

As I’m finishing up the last branded image, I can’t help but let my thoughts wander to Finn and his predicament at work.

I know he’s trying to be casual about what is happening, but there’s no way he’s not completely worried about it.

He is extremely devoted to his job and the idea that he might not be the chief anymore has got to be eating away at him.

That job has been his identity for too long to let it slip between his fingers over some woman who has a vendetta.

I want him to be able to share how he’s feeling with me.

I want him to know that I am a person he can vent to with no judgment.

I want him to share everything with me. But as I sit here thinking this, I realize I have told him nothing about what is happening at my job, and a part of me wonders why I’ve been so secretive with him too.

Am I embarrassed by what my boss is doing?

Am I worried Finn will blow me off, dismiss my feeling about the situation?

Or is it that I’m concerned we don’t have that kind of relationship?

Whatever it is, saying something now just overshadows what he’s going through or makes it seems like my situation is more important.

Like I gave what he’s said a hot second to sink in and then I tried to top it.

I shake my head as I grab my laptop, hoping that if I just ignore it everything will sort itself out.

I send Kelsey a text letting her know I’ll be by the inn in just a few minutes because I am actually a few minutes earlier than I expected.

I never thought I’d be able to finish an entire business plan, marketing images, and the setting up of social media sites, but I guess when you enjoy something the time files by.

I head back to Kelsey’s office as soon as I arrive at the inn.

I don’t even bother to go through the inn, but rather use the back door that connects to her office.

The view is amazing even in the winter, something I discovered when I was photographing the inn for her social media pages and advertising material.

I’ll need to make some adjustments as the seasons change so her material stays up to date.

That is if this becomes a job or if she even wants to continue working with me.

I really hope she does because at least this is a nice mental break from my current job.

Kelsey is at her desk when I knock on the door. I don’t just want to walk in and anyway, I’m sure the door is locked. Given what happened to her in the past, something Erin mentioned to me, I imagine that having someone stalk you probably makes you a bit more cautious.

Kelsey smiles when she sees me and quickly opens the door.

“Get in here. It’s freezing out there,” she says, giving me a hug and taking my coat from me.

“Thanks. It is freezing and I’m already sick of the snow and I know we still have like an endless amount of months left before it’s over.”

I stomp the snow from my boots while Kelsey adds my coat to the rack by the door. I grab my laptop and sit down at the small table where Erin, Kelsey and I had dinner recently.

“You ready?” I ask, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. If she hates everything I’ve done, maybe that’s a sign that I’m not cut out for this.

“Absolutely! Let’s see what you’ve got. I’ve been waiting somewhat patiently,” Kelsey says, giggling a little.

I open my laptop and begin with what her business and marketing plan will look like and how she can begin to profit just from clicks through her social media pages.

I share with her all the images of inn I took and how I used them in brochures, business cards and on her website.

I have a folder of scheduled social media posts, all branded with her colors and theming.

I’ve even redesigned her signage and linked it to a business in Boston I worked with in grad school.

I know that the inn has been in her family for years, but her logo and her sign is outdated and definitely doesn’t reflect the image or the design she created inside.

All I can hope is that she doesn’t think I’ve overstepped my boundaries since we never really discussed what I would be creating or what she expected from me.

When I finish, she’s silent for a few seconds and my heart begins to race, taking her silence to mean everything is too much.

But when she beams at me and says, “Oh my god, Sarah. This is fucking unbelievable.” A long sign of relief leaves my body and I feel the tension in my shoulders finally relax.

“I don’t think I can pay you for all your time and effort, but I will make it up to you any way I can.”

“You told me what your budget was and I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think what you could pay was worth my time,” I tell her, smiling back, thrilled that she’s happy.

“Thank you,” she says, sincerely. “I love everything you’ve done. You managed to pick an amazing color scheme; the pictures of the inn are unreal. How in the world did you get them?”

“Most were taken with my phone and edited, and the overhead shots, I used a drone.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Who would’ve thought Ryan’s stupid toy would come in handy?”

We both laugh and Kelsey continues to carry on about how great the work I did is, and asks me about tracking the profits she could gain through social media clicks.

After spending a good hour or so talking about how I’ll continue to help manage her social media pages and how I’ll update her branding and theming to reflect the current seasons, she asks about sharing what I’ve done with other local inn owners.

“I have a lot of friends in the business, B and B’s in Gloucester and some of the other small beachside towns, would you mind if I passed your name along to them? Do you have a business card?”

I smile at her, grateful for her enthusiasm, but I’m not sure I have the time or resources to take this on as business. “This is just a side job for me, a hobby. I’m not sure I have the time with my current job to take on anyone else.”

“That’s a shame because you have a real talent for this, and I know you can’t make a career out of it working for me and the measly amount I’m paying you.”

“I’d love to do this fulltime and I’m hoping I land a job doing it one day. Speaking of, would you mind if I use what I created for you in my portfolio?”

“Of course you can use it!” Kelsey states excitedly, her eyes lighting up at the thought of the inn being part of my interview process. “Is there a possibility you could move into a job like this at the place you’re currently working?”

“I hope so,” I say shrugging my shoulders as I think about Andrew and begin to wonder if moving up means allowing his harassment to go further.

“How’s the job going?” she asks, almost like she can sense it’s going nowhere.

I pause, trying to find the right words, but I just can’t and everything I’ve been keeping inside flies out of me.

“Honestly, my job is a nightmare,” I lament, the feeling of tears welling up in my eyes and tightening my throat.

And without letting her ask why, I unload my secret.

“The commute is terrible, but that isn’t it.

My boss is a fucking slimy douchebag. Calling him handsy doesn’t even begin to describe it.

He’s the epitome of sexual harassment and I’ve been told if I want to move up in the company that I’m just supposed to indulge him. ”

“Sarah, you can’t keep working there. Actually, yes you can, but you need to report him. Has he hurt you?” she asks, concern blanketing her face. “Have you told anyone?”

“I haven’t said anything to anyone, but it’s a well known thing in the office and it seems like everyone just lets it happen. I have no idea who I would report it to. I imagine that our HR department has heard it all before. And clearly they give no fucks.”

Kelsey continues to question me and I admit that while he hasn’t actually done anything physical to me, he definitely crosses a personal space line and he makes me feel really uncomfortable. I tell her I have told him to back off.

I’m not the kind of girl who will just sit back and let someone treat me like shit, but he is my boss and I need this job. I need health insurance and a steady paycheck, but what I don’t need is to be harassed on a daily basis. I need to be more vocal, need to set firmer boundaries with him.

“Have you told Finn?”

I shake my head, knowing Finn is going through his own shit right now.

“You need to,” she presses. “He’s going to be pissed if something happens and you’ve kept it from him.”

“He’s going through his own shit right now,” I defend, like I’m trying to make excuses for why I haven’t said anything to him. It’s not like he hasn’t asked about my job. He literally asks about it every single day and I’m always vague.

“Sarah, he’d want to know, especially since he’s going through something right now. He knows what it’s like to struggle, to feel like you have no one to talk to. Please, tell him.”

I nod and change the subject, “What do you know about Carla?” I ask, since Finn hasn’t shared much, and knowing Kelsey is up on the town gossip.

“We have mutual friends and we do some cross promotion with our businesses. She owns a local restaurant.” Kelsey shrugs her shoulders, but still continues. “I know her and Finn slept together back in high school, but I don’t think it ever amounted to anything.”

I can tell she’s being reserved. I understand not wanting to say too much since it is Finn’s life and not hers, but the part of me that is concerned about Finn needs to know more.

“Why do you think she’s going after Finn now, after all this time?”

“You really want to know what I think?”

“I do because Finn isn’t sharing anything with me. He’s being all breezy about it.”

“That’s just kinda how Finn is. He’s private.

I’ve told you that before and it’s not just with you.

He’s like that with everyone.” She waits a few breaths before continuing and I can feel myself grow nervous.

My palms are sweaty and my hands shake a little.

And as much as I keep telling myself it isn’t because of me, I know it is.

“Honestly, Sarah, it’s because of you. Because he’s dating you. Your relationship is threatening to the women in this town; the ones who thought they’d someday end up with Finn.”

As much as I knew that was the reason, it’s still like a punch to the gut when Kelsey says it. Thinking it is one thing, but saying it out loud is another.

“Don’t take it personally,” Kelsey says, because clearly my poker face sucks.

“Those women aren’t right for him and they never would be.

To them it’s a game, a conquest about who can land Finn O’Loughlin.

They don’t care about him and they know nothing about him.

He’s elusive and that makes him the hunted. ”

It’s hard for me to respond because I am questioning everything and I do worry that I’m not enough. But I also know I’m different from these women and I can be what Finn needs.

“But you, Sarah, you are right for him. Even if he hasn’t said it, I can tell he loves you. The way he looks at you, the way he behaves when you’re around. It’s different than anything I’ve ever seen. Finn isn’t one to show his emotions and with you, they radiate from him.”

“Thank you,” I respond, not sure what the correct response is. “Do you think this thing with Carla will continue?”

“I have no idea, but I’ll ask around, find out what people are saying and what Carla is up to.”

I thank Kelsey again and we say our goodbyes with her thanking me in return for all my efforts in regards to her business.

She also asks again if she can share my information with a few people and this time I agree.

I can always turn someone down if I feel like I won’t have the time.

But knowing it could possibly help my career, declining straightaway seems like a bad idea.

As I’m walking out the door Kelsey calls, “Talk to Finn tonight. Maybe you sharing what is happening at work will help him open up to you about Carla.”

It’s later than I expected it to be when I finally make my way back to Finn’s house. I had to pick up some clothes at Erin and Ryan’s, and with the detour in conversation at the inn, it’s after six.

The house smells unreal, like an Italian restaurant and to say I’m shocked would be an understatement. After spending the past few weeks with Finn, I would have assumed he couldn’t cook to save his life. His fridge and freezer always filled with frozen pizza and premade salads.

“Oh my god! What are you cooking?” I yell, skipping into the kitchen to find Finn standing at the counter tossing a salad in a wooden bowl.

I slip my arms around his waist, and rest my head against his back.

“Lasagna, my mom’s recipe,” he says and turns in my arms so he’s facing me. “How’d it go at Kelsey’s?” But before I can answer, he presses a kiss to my lips and murmurs, “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

I fill Finn in while he finishes up making garlic bread. We talk while I set the table and pour the wine, and he gets everything out of the oven.

And while the timing probably sucks, I know I need to talk to Finn about what is happening at work.

The conversation up until this point has been light and casual, with Finn continually complimenting me on how well things went with Kelsey, and me asking about his afternoon.

But I know if I don’t say something now, I won’t say anything at all.

When we are both finally sitting, the food served, I take a deep breath and say, “I need to tell you something.”