by Gow, Kailin
My spirits sank. I didn’t know if I believed him, but I did know I didn’t want distance between us. That was what had spurred my obsessive episode this week. Well, he’d asked for me to share… “I hate that you’re leaving. It makes me feel a little distraught.” A lot distraught, actually.
His eyes lit up. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He took my hand and squeezed. “Join me tomorrow night for the symphony.”
My heart flip-flopped. “Yes.”
“I’ll pick you up at six. Wear the dress.”
***
I made it to group that afternoon before meeting with David. I’d made a mistake, but Hudson was willing to look past it. More than willing. And that made it so much easier to believe that I wasn’t doomed to be totally freaky with him. I had to make an effort to stay well.
Not comfortable telling my situation to everyone, not when people might know about my connection with Hudson, I was vague on my turn to share. “I’m…I’ve slipped a bit.”
It was an accurate enough statement. My behavior hadn’t been as bad as it could have been. But every journey starts with a single step—even the journeys we shouldn’t be taking, and at the rate I’d been going that week, I’d be well on my way down the obsession road before I had a grip.
Lauren nodded sympathetically. “When you get home, I’d like you to write out a list of your recent negative behaviors, including behaviors you only thought about engaging in. Then come up with a list of healthy behaviors you can substitute whenever you feel compelled to engage in an unhealthy one. Do you need any help?”
“No.” I’d done this before. More than once. I still had all the substitute behaviors memorized from the last time I’d gone off the wagon: Run, do yoga, take an extra shift at work, concentrate on school, visit Brian. Obviously my list needed updating.
“Good. You know your patterns. Are you still journaling?”
“I haven’t in a while.” A long while.
Lauren smiled. “I recommend you start again.” She was always good for a swift kick in the butt.
“Okay.” And I would. But something told me that of all the suggestions I’d received that day, the best one had been from Hudson himself: When you can’t help yourself, talk to me.
I was quiet the rest of the session, replaying an old favorite quote over and over in my head, committing myself to modifying my actions. If there is no struggle, there is no progress. If there is no struggle, there is no progress.
I felt better after group, stronger and my head clear. As Jordan drove me to work later, I added to my substitute behaviors list, including making it a goal to watch every title on the AFI’s 100 Greatest Movies list and continue reading the top one hundred books on GreatestBooks.org.
My good mood and healthy attitude gave me courage to send a text to Hudson before I walked into my meeting with David that evening. “Do you really have to leave town again?”
This time I got a response instantly. “I’m afraid so.”
He’d listened—had adjusted his behavior knowing how it affected me to not get a response. Before I could decide how to answer, he sent another. “But I’m glad to know you’re thinking of me.”
A tingle spread through my body. “Always,” I told him before I could stop myself. What was I doing? What were we doing? We weren’t lovers anymore—were we becoming something else? Something more like friends? Friends who flirted by text?
Whatever we were doing, it felt good. So good that I followed my last text with another more dangerous message. “Are you thinking of me?”
David opened his office door, interrupting my feel-good moment before Hudson had a chance to reply. “Laynie, come in.” David was stiff and his voice tight.
His serious demeanor made me stuff my phone in my bra. “Is everything okay?” I thought back to his message from Monday. “What came up the other day?” I asked as I took a seat in front of his desk.
“This.” David threw a folded newspaper down on the desk before sitting in his chair across from me.
Puzzled, I picked up the newspaper and scanned for what might have put him in such a foul mood. And there it was, in full color on the top of Monday’s society section, the picture of Hudson and me kissing.
“Oh. That.” David had been the one person I’d been scared of telling. I feared he’d jump to conclusions. The wrong conclusions.
And he did. “You want to explain this, Laynie?” He stood and began pacing, not pausing long enough for me to answer. “‘Cause I’ll tell you what it looks like. It looks like you were so eager to get your precious promotion that, when you couldn’t get it by playing me, you chose to go after the next guy who could get you what you wanted.”
I put a hand out in front of me as if to stop him from saying what he was saying. “It’s not like that, David. It was never like that.” How could he think that I’d liked him for a promotion? That I’d been insincere when I’d been with him?
“It wasn’t?” He stopped pacing and leaned toward me, his palms on his desk. “Then tell me what it was like, Laynie.”
“It’s…I can’t…” My floundering was exacerbated by the buzz of my phone against my breast. I knew it was a reply from Hudson, and I longed to read it. But there was no way I could right then. Not with David raging in front of me.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He straightened, a look of utter disgust joining the scowl on his face. “Now I’m forced to move you up, implement your ideas, never mind that I was going to anyway, or fear for my own job.” He laughed dryly. “I’m probably grooming you to take my place.”
“David, no.” This was worse than I had imagined. I didn’t want him to think I ever wanted to take his job from him. I had imagined us running The Sky Launch together. Though the romantic part of that duo was no longer appealing to me, I still very much wanted the business duo.
“Does Pierce have any idea about me?”
“David, don’t.”
His eyes narrowed. “Does he know that you’re The Sky Launch slut?”
That was the turning point. Instead of feeling bad, I got pissed. And when I got pissed, I used all the weapons in my arsenal. “If you really believe what you’re saying, David, that I have some power over Hudson, then maybe you should be a little more careful how you talk to me.”
His eyebrows lifted, surprised by my steady tone and pointed words.
“Now, sit down,” I continued, “and we can talk about this in a civilized manner.” I waited while he plopped down in his chair. “Good. Let me see if I have this right—you think I’m dating Hudson so that I could get a promotion at the club. A promotion that you’ve basically promised me because of my hard work here over the past few years. A promotion I earned before you and I even kissed.”
“Why else would you be dating him?” His words were challenging, but the fight had left.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m dating Hudson because…” I was on-duty in that moment, but my reason was honest. “Because I like him. And he likes me. We connect. And, even before our first date, he spelled out to me that he would have nothing to do with helping me move up here. And I accepted it because I knew I could get the manager title on my merit alone. Tell me, did Hudson instruct you to promote me?”
His shoulders slumped. “No.”
“And were you going to offer me the position before you saw our picture in the paper?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are we even talking about?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “Laynie…I…I don’t know what to say. I guess I jumped to conclusions. I said things that were uncalled for.”
“I get it. I knew it would look that way.” I let out a silent breath, relieved that he’d calmed so easily. “Maybe I should have said something earlier.”
David shook his head. Then he met my eyes directly. “No, I was acting jealous. And I didn’t have any right to. I’m the one who ended things.”
“It’s okay.” I looked away. His jealous remar
k hung in the air between us. Once upon a time, I would have jumped all over it. Now, it felt weird to have him feeling things about me.
So I changed the subject. “Um, about the promotion…did you say you were giving it to me?”
He smiled. “Yes. Of course I am. Pierce didn’t tell you?”
Up until recently, Hudson and I didn’t talk much when we were together. But I wasn’t telling that to David. “He really didn’t.”
“Good. I’m glad to be the first to tell you. Congratulations.” He outstretched his hand to shake mine then took it back. “What am I doing? Come here.” We both stood and met at the side of his desk for a hug.
I pulled away first.
He noticed, covering by jumping into work mode. “And we’re taking your suggestions. We’ll extend the club hours starting in August. Which means you have a lot of work to do to get the place ready. Plan on lots of marketing and promotional meetings.”
I put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, David.”
“You deserve it.”
We spent the hours until the club opened working on a business plan. It was distracting and exhilarating and exactly what my obsessive mind needed. Work would automatically make it to my list of substitute behaviors. I now had a salaried position and many of my shifts would take place during daylight hours. Wouldn’t Brian be proud?
When the club opened, I shadowed David, learning more managerial duties. By the time we closed, I was exhausted and grateful that I didn’t have to walk home.
It wasn’t until Jordan was helping me into the backseat of the car after my shift was over that I remembered to read my text from Hudson. “Always,” it said.
My heart stopped. I reread my text to him to be sure I correctly remembered what I’d sent. I did. I had asked him if he was thinking of me, and his answer was Always.
Chapter Fourteen
Jordan was waiting for me with the Maybach at six outside my apartment, but I saw before he even opened the door for me that the backseat was empty.
“Mr. Pierce is late getting back in town,” Jordan explained. “He’ll meet you at Lincoln Center. I have your ticket.”
Having felt anxious all day about seeing Hudson, not sure what the context of our evening would be, I didn’t want to be alone. “Do you mind if I ride up front with you?” I asked.
“I’m sure Mr. Pierce would rather you sat in the back.”
I pulled the back door from Jordan’s grasp and shut it without getting in. “Then we won’t tell him, will we?”
Jordan shook his head at me and crossed around to the driver’s seat. I opened the front door myself and climbed in next to him.
We rode in silence for a bit, and I read the ticket that Jordan had given me. The New York Philharmonic playing Brahms’s Symphonies Two and Three. Nice. I loved the arts and it had been forever since I had treated myself to an event of any sort.
Luckily, I didn’t have to be at work until one a.m. since I was staying after close to learn how to do monthly inventory. Leisl had come to my apartment that afternoon to help me tie the back of my dress and had taken some of my clothes to work with her so I could change when I got there. It meant Hudson and I had all evening for…for what? Were we on show tonight? Was this a date? Were we going out as friends? I had no idea.
Glancing over at Jordan, I felt inspired to get answers to some of my questions. “Jordan? What has Hudson told you about me?” Jordan had been in the office when we were negotiating the terms of our arrangement. What did he think about us?
Jordan didn’t answer.
“You’re not supposed to chat with me, are you?” His expression gave me my answer. “Oh, come on. He probably also said to keep me happy. And right now some validation is what would make me happy.”
He sighed as if not believing what he was about to do. “He said you’re the lady in his life.”
“He did?” Of course, he would have. That was my role, after all—to play the lady in his life. But had there been others? “How many ladies has he had in his life?”
“I haven’t been hired to drive any others, Ms. Withers. I’ve only always driven him. Occasionally he might have a date, but not very often.”
I frowned, not wanting to think about Hudson on dates.
“Certainly none of them held his interest like you do.”
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to be patronized. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t. But it’s true.”
What did that mean, exactly? That I was special to him? Or that I was the only one he’d hired to show off?
But I couldn’t ask Jordan those questions. So instead I asked, “What do you think about Hudson?”
“Me?” Jordan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, he’s a good boss. Very clear with his expectations. He demands a lot but the benefits are proportional.”
That was nice to know—that he was a decent employer. But it wasn’t what I was looking for. “I mean as a person.”
Jordan laughed. “I don’t know him as anything but a business man.” He glanced at me. “You may be one of the only people I’ve ever met who knows him as just a man.”
“I doubt that.” Not only because I didn’t know him but because I suspected Hudson didn’t let anyone know him.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
I wanted to continue the conversation, but we’d arrived at Lincoln Center. It felt strange to arrive by myself, but Jordan directed me to Avery Fisher Hall and gave me all the information I needed. “Tonight is a donor’s event. So there’s a light buffet in the lobby. Mr. Pierce insisted you enjoy yourself.”
I smiled as I pictured Hudson giving the orders to Jordan. Had it been by phone? By text? Either way, I recognized that a great deal of care had gone into the evening. “Do you know when he’ll be here?”
Jordan shook his head. “A late meeting of the day delayed his take-off. But he assures he’ll arrive as soon as he can.” He paused before stepping back behind the driver seat. “Ms. Withers? If I may say, you look quite lovely.”
I blushed as I thanked him, but his compliment gave me the courage to make my way into the hall by myself. Finely dressed patrons crowded in with me, the richest in the city, the people who had money to donate to such trivial things as the arts. I’d always been into nice clothes, but had never cared about designer names until that moment when the only thing camouflaging me in the sea of expensive clothes was my own designer gown. I was out of my element. I needed a cocktail.
As Jordan had said, buffet tables lined the lobby and caterers wandered around with trays filled with delicious appetizers and glasses of champagne. I wasn’t very hungry, but I grabbed a crab puff as it passed so I’d have something in my stomach when I drank the champagne that I acquired soon after. I spent the next forty-five minutes nursing my drink and nibbling on veggies, my eyes pinned on the front doors searching for my date.
When the crowd thinned, I reluctantly made my way to the seat listed on my ticket. Box seats, of course. My spirits perked up as I noticed patrons entering the box ahead of me. Perhaps Hudson had managed to sneak past me.
But when the usher showed me to my seat, I found the seats on either side of mine empty. Three other seats in our box were taken by a middle-aged couple and a woman my age—a woman I knew. It was Celia.
“Laynie!” Celia said as she sat down. “I’m so glad you came. Where’s that handsome man of yours?” Her voice wasn’t exactly quiet, and I realized she wanted her companions to hear.
My chest constricted. Definitely not a date, then.
“I wouldn’t have missed tonight. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” I did my best to pretend I knew that Celia would be there as she had seemed to know I would be in attendance. “Hudson’s late flying in. He’s been out-of-town most of this week.” I’ll admit I hoped the mention of him being out of town would be news to Celia. I felt I needed the upper hand somehow and knowing things about my supposed love that Celia didn’t was the only trick I c
ould play.
“Oh, yes. He told me he was leaving again when I talked to him yesterday.” So much for insider knowledge. “Let me introduce you to my parents, Warren and Madge Werner. This is Alayna Withers, Hudson’s girlfriend.”
Mr. and Mrs. Werner exchanged glances before they leaned over their seats to shake my hand.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Madge said. “Sophia has told me so much about you.”
Huh, yeah. Whatever Sophia Pierce had to say to her best friend about me couldn’t be anything I’d want to know. My stomach knotted at the thought. Where the hell was Hudson? How could he leave me alone with these people?
“Sophia’s a delight,” I said with as much pleasantry as I could muster. It actually wasn’t hard to smile as I said it, as if I had told a private joke about Hudson’s monster of a mother.
“Isn’t she?” Celia muttered so only I could hear.
Her dig made me feel more comfortable.
Until Madge started to grill me. “Where did you meet Hudson again?”
I repeated the story, embellishing as many romantic moments as I could without going too far overboard, all the while checking over my shoulder, wishing Hudson would appear.
“Withers,” Warren said when there was a lull. “Any relation to Joel and Patty?”
“No, sorry.” If he was trying to discover the depths of my breeding, I’m afraid he was going to be sorely disappointed.
Relief flooded over me when the lights lowered, ending our conversation. Simultaneously, my resentment toward Hudson grew. I quickly shot him a text, something I should have done an hour earlier. “Where are you?”
The response to my text came as a whisper in my ear as the conductor walked on stage and the audience began clapping. “Right beside you.”
Chills spread through my body and I looked up to see Hudson had slipped into the seat next to me. He was there. Even in the dim theater, I knew he looked gorgeous, wearing a classic tuxedo. His hair was mussed as if he’d dressed quickly, and his face scruffy, increasing the sexy factor.
He nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Werner then took my hand.