Chandler

by Laurelin Paige

  When I turn back to her, she’s on her side, propped up on her elbow watching me, and it takes every bit of strength I can muster not to crawl back into bed with her. A day in bed sounds so perfect, and not only because my dick is twitching in my jeans, but because I can’t get enough of this woman. I want to talk to her and touch her and just be with her. All the time.

  “If you keep looking at me like that, you’re never going to get out of here, and there will be one sad little girl waiting downstairs.”

  “More likely she’ll come looking for me up here again.” I sigh, resigned to the fact that I have to leave her. But not without a good morning kiss.

  I crawl over the bed toward her.

  “Chandler, no! I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t care.” She didn’t seem to care when we woke up in the middle of the night for yet another round of let’s-see-how-deep-I-can-go. She doesn’t fight me now either when I wrap my hand in her hair, tugging it sharply before ravishing her mouth.

  I swear she tastes like fucking candy. I love it.

  I love her.

  “Are you going to come down too?” I ask when I bring myself to pull away, surprised I didn’t spill the contents of my heart instead.

  “Yes. I want to shower and then I’ll join you.” Fuck, showering with her sounds even more delicious than my housekeeper’s pancakes. “Is that okay?”

  Little girl. Waiting for me. Got to go.

  I kiss Genny once more on her nose. “As long as you think of me while you’re in there.”

  She agrees, and I’m not sure if it’s that or the kiss that caused the hard-on I’m sporting. The sight of her naked body as I watch her slip into the bathroom definitely doesn’t help.

  Needing a few minutes to cool down before I go downstairs, I pace the room and recite the Pledge of Allegiance until something catches my eye—a folder sticking out of Genny’s suitcase with the Pierce Industries logo at the top of it.

  I’m curious.

  Okay, I’m a goddamned snoop.

  I pull the folder out and find dozens of pages of financial transcripts, all belonging to Pierce Industries.

  Which is weird, right? I mean, she wants to do business with us, but her interest is in Werner Media. So why on earth does she have this? I’m not sure where she’d even get that information. Not sure if it’s even public.

  The water in the shower suddenly turns off. And not wanting to be caught with my hand in her bag, I shove the folder back in and rush out of the room. Outside the door, I take a moment to clear my head.

  And realize I’m being a moron.

  Genevieve is a businesswoman through and through. Of course she’d investigate all the parties she was looking at working with. That’s all. I make a mental note to ask her about it later to be sure and then head downstairs.

  I find my family eating breakfast on the patio, and except for Laynie, it looks like Genny and I are definitely the late risers.

  “Wow, look who managed to put some clothes on,” my mother says, her tone filled with its usual disdain.

  I narrow my eyes at Mina. “Seems someone told on me.” And really? I’m twenty-four. Am I supposed to pretend I’m celibate? God knows Hudson didn’t.

  “You have to be careful how you behave around little ones,” Mirabelle chides, but I can tell from the twinkle in her eye that she’s poking at me more than lecturing.

  “Hey, I didn’t realize that I needed to lock my door.” I turn to Hudson, who is scowling quietly over his coffee. “She didn’t see anything, H. I swear.”

  He glances over at his daughter, as if to be sure she isn’t listening before he says quietly, “Oh, if I believed she had, you’d be missing your nuts by now.”

  “Ha ha.” At least now I’m totally soft. No one kills a boner like my brother.

  No one kills a breakfast like my brother, either. He’s moody and tense, probably because he’s not sleeping, but I can’t help but feel like it’s directed at me.

  Sure enough, I’m only midway through my stack of cakes when he says, “Chandler, we need to talk.”

  “Not this again,” my father grumbles, and all of a sudden I remember the strange foreboding I felt the day before when Hudson had wanted to pull me aside.

  My eyes dart from Hudson’s to Dad’s and back to Hudson’s. “Is there something I need to be worried about?”

  “I’d rather discuss this privately.” Although he obviously already told my father. How private is this really?

  Hudson stands, expecting that I’ll follow suit.

  “Is Uncle Chandler in trouble?” Mina asks no one in particular, and I have to say, I’m wondering the same thing.

  “Of course not, baby.” Hudson’s features relax as he addresses his child. “We just have some grown-up talk to get to.” He bops her on the nose with his finger, his smile warm and full of love.

  Then he turns to me and a cold front moves in over his expression. “Let’s go.”

  “Yep.” I follow Hudson into the house imagining all the possible things he might want to talk about. He can’t be that upset about the way Mina came upon us this morning, can he? I finally decide he’s just eager to get an update on what happened the other night at the Advances in the Media banquet.

  At least, I hope that’s all it is.

  Hudson is quiet as we walk. Even when we reach the study, he doesn’t speak until he’s poured himself a scotch and offered one to me as well.

  “Day drinking?” I accept the glass, hoping this isn’t an indication that this conversation is going to be serious. Though everything is serious to Hudson, so what my concern is, I don’t know.

  “I’d offer a mimosa instead, but you know those have been nixed from the menu since Mother’s been sober.” He swirls the liquid in his tumbler before taking a swallow.

  I walk to the window and take a sip myself, letting the liquor burn my throat. As I stare out, Genny joins my family on the patio, and at the sight of her, all my anxiety disappears. I can’t hear them, but her inquisitive expression says she’s asking about me. Mirabelle responds and then they’re laughing and sitting down together. Warmth shoots along my spine, and I don’t think it’s from the scotch. Is it ridiculous that I love how perfectly Genny fits in? It’s like she belongs here. Belongs with my family. Belongs with me.

  “Rumor has it,” Hudson says, interrupting my daydreaming, “that you took Genevieve to the awards banquet the other night. Is that true?”

  So that’s what this is about.

  I turn from the window to find him leaning against the desk. It’s such a stance of authority, like he’s a principal reprimanding a student.

  I’m pretty sure that’s how he wants me to feel—like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office.

  It makes me want to do what I did every time I found myself there growing up—roll my eyes.

  I take a long sip from my glass to rein in my irritation. “It’s really not how it looks. You told me not to bring a plus one, and I didn’t. I ran into her there, and she had a sort of mix-up and didn’t have a ticket, so I said she could take my extra spot. And it was fine because guess who else was seated at our table?”

  Hudson shrugs, sets his glass down and folds his arms across his chest, waiting for me to tell him.

  “Edward Fasbender and his son Hagan. How the hell did you expect me to feel out Nathan Murphy with them at the same table?”

  He’s surprised by this information. “They were? Well, damn. What are the odds?”

  “Whatever the odds, it happened. But I did my job and found out—subtly, don’t worry—that Nathan is indeed interested in running Werner Media. You should give him a call for a meeting. I’d like to be there for it, please.”

  And now that I’ve given him what he wanted, it’s time to ask for what I want. “While you’re setting up meetings, set one up with Genevieve. I’d like to be at that one too.”

  “Genevieve?” His forehead wrinkles with confusion.
r />   “Yes. She’s young, I know, but she has some great ideas and you should really hear her out.”

  “You want me to talk to Genevieve Fasbender. About Werner Media.”

  It sounds like a statement instead of a question, but I confirm anyway. “Yes. I do. She’s brilliant. She’s a grand-scheme kind of thinker. More aware of the current market than her brother, that’s for sure. Completely on top of her game.”

  “Jesus,” my brother mutters, “you’re gushing.”

  He’s mocking me, but that’s all the invitation I need. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been dying to talk to someone about my feelings. Next thing I know, I’m sitting in the window seat, spilling my guts. “I’m in love with her, Hudson. I think she might be the one.”

  “Please,” Hudson says dismissively. “You’re not in love with her. You just met her.”

  “What does that matter? Aren’t you the guy who moved his girlfriend-slash-future wife in after two weeks of knowing her?” He doesn’t show it, but I have a feeling that down deep he’s romantic. Why else would he let things happen so quickly?

  But if he is romantic deep down, he’s not letting me be privy to it. Instead, he’s giving me brusque and snippy. “I’d known her longer than two weeks.”

  “Sorry, two and a half.” Honestly, I don’t know exactly when he’d met Alayna, but it was fast. He’s definitely not one to talk.

  But he does anyway. “Don’t compare your relationship with this, this…girl to my relationship with my wife. It’s not the same.”

  Okay, despite our differences, I was ready to open up and share everything, but now I’m pissed.

  “Who the hell are you to decide that?” I stand and point a finger at him. “Maybe it’s exactly the same. Maybe this is the beginning of exactly what you have with your wife. You don’t know how deeply I feel about Genny. I’m in love with her, and just maybe I’m going to marry her.”

  Hudson picks up his drink and finishes the contents in one swallow. Then he slams the empty glass on the desk next to him. “You cannot marry that woman. I forbid it.”

  Like hell. “You can’t forbid shit.”

  “I can tell you that if you put a ring on that finger, you and her family will be banned from coming anywhere near my family again.”

  I’m speechless. My brother has always been a bit aloof, and he’s more often than not a pain in my ass, but he’s never been downright shitty. I don’t understand this, don’t have any idea where it’s coming from, and the only comeback I can manage is the most obvious one. “What is your fucking problem?”

  “Her family!”

  “I know that you’re not fond of Edward Fasbender, but so what?” Even if he doesn’t end up giving the man a job, it shouldn’t have anything to do with what happens between Genny and me.

  “It’s not her father I have a problem with,” Hudson snaps back, his hands wrapped around the edge of the desk behind him. “It’s his wife.”

  I don’t say it, but I give him the look that says, and what’s your deal with her?

  Hudson’s eyes widen with realization. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “That girl you’re so fond of? Her stepmother is Celia Werner.”

  15

  I know Hudson has beef with Celia Werner, but I’m perplexed and still trying to piece together all the reasons this affects my relationship with Genny when I hear Laynie at the door.

  “Celia’s back?” she says, holding one of the babies and looking paler than I’ve ever seen her.

  Hudson winces, and I know he regrets that his wife overheard this bit of news. Seems Mina isn’t the only one who needs to learn about privacy. Hudson did leave the door open. I feel less bad about forgetting the bedroom lock now.

  He recovers quickly and rushes toward Alayna. “Millie?” he calls out into the hallway. “Could you take Holden for a bit, please?”

  “Gladly!” Millie steps in and scoops the baby from Laynie’s arms then quickly disappears, humming as she goes.

  Hudson shuts the door after her. A little late for that, isn’t it?

  “Celia’s back,” Laynie repeats, drawing the attention back to the issue at hand.

  Hudson puts his arms around his wife and looks her in the eye. “She’s not back, precious. I will not let her be back; do you understand?”

  “But she’s that girl’s stepmother? I thought Genevieve was someone you met from work,” she directs to me. Then back to Hudson, “She got to us through Chandler?”

  I frown, irritated at what my sister-in-law is inferring.

  “She hasn’t gotten to us,” Hudson says. “And Celia is not back. That’s the point. She’s exactly where she’s always been, and we’ve been fine. I won’t let her get any closer to this family than she already is.”

  He throws a glare in my direction at that last part. Then he walks Laynie to the couch. He holds her as they sit down together, delivering reassurance. It’s sweet. It’s the kind of relationship I want with my wife one day, and I can’t help that I see Genny in that position now more than ever.

  So while I hate to interrupt this private moment, it seems our private moment was the one interrupted first. “Hold up, Hudson. You’re talking about Celia. That has nothing to do with Genevieve.”

  “It has everything to do with Genevieve,” he sneers. “Anyone who has any association with Celia should be considered a threat. That’s how Celia works.”

  “Wait. Back up,” Laynie says, putting a calming hand on Hudson’s thigh. “How did Genevieve meet Chandler in the first place?”

  “I met her at a charity thing last week that I went to in Hudson’s place. Her father is Edward Fasbender, and your husband wanted me to do some schmoozing.”

  Laynie’s eyes widen and she whips her head back toward my brother. “You sent Chandler to get close to Celia’s husband?”

  “No. That’s not why I sent Chandler there. I wanted him to send a message. Prove to Celia that I still have eyes on her and her family, in case she was at the event.”

  “Would have been nice if someone had told me!” Now I understand why I needed the scotch. I throw back the rest of the drink then put the empty glass on the bar.

  Alayna ignores me. “Well, your plan backfired, H, because now Celia’s here. Practically in our own house!”

  Much as I like to hear her scolding Hudson, I’m not at all about to stand by the allusion that my girlfriend—yes, I’m calling her that—is merely an extension of someone they think is not a good person. “You’re overreacting,” I say, trying not to overreact myself.

  Hudson jumps to his feet and faces me. “Do I need to tell you the things she’s done? Not just to other people, but what she’s done to us? She blackmailed me. She’s threatened us. She tried to get me to put Alayna in a mental hospital. This is not behavior I take lightly.”

  Um, damn. A lot more serious than I’d imagined.

  “I’m not taking it lightly, either.” And I’m not, now that I know about it, that is. “But if it was so terrible, why didn’t you have her arrested?”

  He looks back at his wife before answering. “It’s complicated. Mostly because there wasn’t enough evidence to charge her. But other reasons too.” Other reasons that I sense might not shed too favorable of a light on my brother.

  I know him well enough to know he’s not going to give more explanation than that. So I don’t pursue it.

  Instead, I address the more important matter. “She’s done nothing to you in years, though. Right? Because you…” Because he took over control of Werner Media. But now Warren is retiring and that leaves Hudson without any leverage. Which was a problem on its own, but now…if the Accelecom merger takes place, Hudson will essentially be handing the company back over to the Werners by giving it to Celia’s husband.

  Hudson studies me. “You’re working it all out now, I see.”

  “That’s why you aren’t interested in giving the job to Edward Fasbender.” Fuck. There goes Genn
y’s chances for her dream job.

  Yeah, I probably should have worked out that her chances were shot before this. It’s not that I’m slow—it’s that I’m hopeful. Or, I was.

  The way the picture is being presented now, my hope has pretty much evaporated.

  Hudson takes advantage of my epiphany and proceeds to back it up. “There is no telling how that woman might plan to destroy us. What she could do to our business. Our income. Our family. Through her husband. I do not want that man or his wife or anyone connected to her anywhere near my family. And if I had known you were bringing her this weekend— ” he enunciates the word her, as though Genny is something awful or disgusting “—then I would have considered banning you from the premises.”

  I let out a laugh because he can’t be serious. “Like hell you would. You’re the oldest, Hudson, but this isn’t even your property.”

  “You’re right. I don’t own Mabel Shores. But Mom and Dad are on my side where Celia is concerned, so like hell we wouldn’t.”

  It’s a loaded statement, one that proves I’ve been the only one in the dark. Just like always, Hudson is the one in the know, the one adored and respected. The one who rules the roost.

  My anger increases sharply. I bolt out of my seat. “That’s not fair, you know. None of this. Genevieve had no hand in deciding whom her father married, and yet she gets to be punished for it? No. Not fair.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you think it’s fair.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, and I swear I’ve never wanted to sock him as much as I want to right now. “If you continue to associate with her then consider yourself out with us.”

  I feel my fists tightening at my side, but I’m too struck by his latest remark, the implications hitting me in the gut. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that we will keep our distance from Celia in every way we can.”

  “You mean distancing yourself from me. Because the girl I’m in love with is related by marriage to someone you dislike.” I’m seconds from going full-out Hulk on him, but I know the weapon to use with my brother is control, so I rein it in.