Free The Player's Club: Finn by Cathy Yardley Page A

watch. We’re about helping people live life to the fullest, basically, right? Following what they want, facing what they’re afraid of? Like Dead Poets Society meets The Bucket List ?”
    “You know I hate that analogy,” Lincoln muttered.
    Finn pressed on. “If the Club could help anybody, it would help her. Actually…it sort of has to knock her socks off.”
    “We’re not the Rotary Club or A.A.,” Lincoln said. “What, exactly, did you deal?”
    “If she gives us the thumbs-up, then my folks get off my back.”
    Lincoln’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What if she doesn’t give us the thumbs-up?”
    “Well…I, ah, quit the Club.” He swallowed hard.
    “Seriously?” Lincoln’s skepticism was clear. “And they’re planning on having you prove that how, exactly?”
    Trust Lincoln to get right to the heart of it. “By no longer doing anything they’d consider dangerous.”
    Lincoln’s eyebrows jumped up, but otherwise he kept silent, expectant.
    “And…I’d fulfill all my duties as a board member, including regular attendance, and take a job at my father’s company,” Finn finished.
    Lincoln stared at him for a second. Then he glanced over at Diana. “And you’re letting all this ride on her? ”
    “I’m still sitting here, you know,” Diana said from across the room, causing several of the Players to roll their eyes and make dismissive comments.
    “You’d better start buying some ties,” Lincoln said, scoffing. “I don’t know how you got suckered into this, but this has to be the stupidest bet you’ve ever made. Take off her blindfold, and let’s get on with this.”
    Finn went to Diana and removed her blindfold. She blinked owlishly, then sneered at the assembled Players. “So far, Finn, I’m not impressed.”
    “Boooooo!” Tucker said. “Throw her back. She’s not Player material!”
    Finn quickly jumped in before that became the rallying cry. “Trust me, she’s going to be giving this her all,” he said, staring at her intently. “Won’t you, Diana?”
    Her chin went up. He was learning to love that little expression—which just went to show how truly insane he was. “Sure.”
    He nodded, running through the rules as most of the other Players ignored him. Then he got to the questions. “What are you most proud of?”
    She frowned. “This is part of the initiation?”
    “Yup.”
    “All right. I’m proud being lead counsel for Macalister Enterprises.”
    She sounded it. Hell, she sounded the same way most marines did talking about being in the corps. Her back was straight as a level.
    “Okay. What scares you the most?”
    She stiffened. “Nothing.”
    Tucker booed again. “Come on,” Finn pressed. “Everybody’s scared of something. What are you afraid of?”
    She gritted her teeth visibly. “Gunfire.”
    He tilted his head. Something there, he thought, but didn’t press. “Okay. If you had a month left to live, and let’s say nearly unlimited resources…what would you want to do?”
    She stared at him blankly. Then she shrugged. “I’d probably write up a standard operating manual.”
    “Huh?” He glanced over his shoulder, to find the rest of the Players staring at her.
    “A standard operating manual,” she repeated, then huffed. “You know, something that would explain everything I had going on, my routine, et cetera, for my job replacement.”
    “You’ve got a month left to live, and you’d write an operating manual?” he repeated, awed.
    “Of course. I wouldn’t leave the new lead counsel in the lurch,” she told them, making it sound completely self-evident. Obviously with one month to live, I’d write something for my successor. Who wouldn’t?
    The Players were apparently too stunned to boo. “Good grief. What the hell else would you do?” Finn asked, repulsed. “No. Don’t tell me. You’d draw up a will, make sure that everything was accounted for and make your own funeral arrangements.”
    He was screwed. He was soooo