by Lily Menon
“Hello to you, too,” she said, raising her glass at him.
His voice was low, but throbbing with annoyance. “Annika, this is my event.” His eyes roved over the band, her gigantic sign, and the table. June gave him a placid smile. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“The building manager said you only rented that half of the rooftop,” Annika said, repeating the same lines she’d rehearsed in anticipation of this very confrontation. She batted her eyelashes. “Is that not true?”
“Yeah, but that’s because no one else was on the books.”
Annika shrugged. “I guess you should’ve been a little less cheap and sprung for the whole rooftop anyway.”
He stepped forward, closing the gap between them, towering over her even more because she was sitting. Annika’s breath caught in her throat, but she was determined not to let him see. “I thought you were all mad about me supposedly stealing your idea. So who’s stealing whose idea now?”
She stood, wishing she could look directly into his eyes. Oh, well. Looking up would have to do. “First, it’s not polite to loom. And second, well, now you know what it feels like.”
His gaze burned into hers. “I. Didn’t. Steal. Your. Idea,” he said, enunciating every word. “And this”—he thrust a hand at the band—“is beyond the pale. I’m trying to run a business here.”
“Yeah. I know.” Annika gestured grandly at her table. “So am I.”
Shaking his head, Hudson rubbed his jaw and took a breath, muttering something that sounded very much like “stubborn” under his breath. Annika tried not to grin. Let him get all frustrated for a change. He studied her face again and smiled thinly, his eyes narrowing just a tad. “Okay. This is how you want to play it?”
Annika raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, but didn’t say anything.
Hudson turned and stalked away to his side of the rooftop, every step brimming with irritation. As Annika watched, he went to the sound system and cut the music he’d been playing—and then, after clapping his hands to get people’s attention, he announced in a voice like a foghorn, “All right, everybody! Listen up! It’s a margarita mariachi party! The bartender’s going to make you margaritas in flavors you’ve never even dreamed of before. Oh, and please, enjoy our guest band and dance the night away!” He gestured toward the mariachi band as if it were all his brilliant idea.
People cheered and roared with happiness. Catching Annika’s eye across the crowd, Hudson picked a fresh drink off the bar and raised the glass to her. One corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
Fuming, Annika turned to June, who was looking at her with wide eyes. She took a slug of agua fresca. “Dammit.”
June took a bite of her taco and watched as the partygoers on the other side of the roof lined up to get margaritas from the bartender, who was making them in every color of the rainbow. “So … do you want to just sit here and eat?”
Annika looked at the people who’d already kicked off their shoes and were now dancing to the mariachi music. “Yes,” she said defiantly, turning back around and heaping her plate with tacos. “Let’s eat.”
chapter six
After almost an hour of trying to eat her dinner in a dignified fashion, Annika sagged back against the folding chair and kicked her shoes off under the table. The other side of the rooftop was buzzing, naturally. The juggler was back on his shit, the tequila was top-shelf, and the chocolate fountain was flowing like freaking Mount Vesuvius. The mariachi band was now walking around, infusing the entire party with a sense of tropical fun. It was like she’d paid for Hudson’s entertainment—a thought that had clearly not escaped him, given how many times she’d caught him looking triumphantly over at her, eyes dancing with glee.
Swells of laughter rose and fell. People milled around, chatting it up. Even Blaire, normally so terrifying, had let her hair down and was surrounded by a clot of people she was regaling with a story about working at a circus one summer. Ziggy was handing out business cards. He’d had hundreds of them at the beginning—Annika had seen the giant tower behind a table. The tower was now diminished to a stub, and Ziggy was lying in a hammock with June, who’d abandoned ship to go over to the other side.
She’d stuck by Annika for the first hour, both of them using every ounce of their energy to make it seem like they were having a great time with their sad takeout but eventually Annika told her to go have fun. There was no need for both of them to continue suffering.
Feeling a slight chill in spite of the balmy night air, Annika wrapped her arms around her torso and was just beginning to wonder if she should just go home when a frosted margarita appeared at her elbow.
She looked up to see Hudson. “Hey. You look like you could use a drink.”
Annika picked up the glass and peered at its pink-and-green contents. “What is this?”
“A peace offering for the night: a strawberry-jalapeño margarita. I seem to remember you like them.”
She’d almost forgotten. In Vegas, they’d had their first drink together at a dim, slightly Gothic hotel bar. She’d confessed that she’d never had a jalapeño margarita before, and, pretending to be outraged, he’d immediately ordered her one. She’d watched him over the rim of the glass as she drank and he’d watched her back, unflinchingly, the spicy drink and hot desire warming her bones and turning them to liquid gold.
Now Annika almost refused—that Hudson was definitely not this Hudson—but the thought of something spicy and tangy did sound amazing. She took a sip and closed her eyes as the tequila warmed her throat and settled into her chest like a warm ember. “Thanks.” Slipping her shoes back on, Annika scraped her chair back and stood, making sure to keep an arm’s length of distance between them. “Looks like your party’s a roaring success.”
“Wait till they light the tiki torches. No one’s gonna wanna leave.”
They studied each other for a long moment. Annika snorted at the same time that Hudson chuckled, the sound a deep rumble that somehow echoed in her chest.
“Well played, by the way,” he said, nodding toward the roaming band. There was a shadow of real admiration in his voice. “They were a really nice touch.”
“Yeah, well—you’re pretty good at thinking on your feet.” She gestured to the boisterous crowd. “Everyone here thinks you’re a party-planning genius.”
“It was touch-and-go for a minute,” he said, giving her a wry look. “But I think I managed to salvage it, yes.” Glancing back over the crowds of people clutching the Break Up–branded gift bags a model was handing out, he added, “I don’t think they’re going to forget us anytime soon.” He said it casually, but Annika detected an intensity under the surface.
“So, what’s the plan now?” he asked, turning back to her. A soft breeze wafted his cologne over to her. His eyes seemed to shimmer and glow in the dusky sunset. “Are you staying or leaving?”
She blinked, refusing to let him get to her. “Staying.” When he began to return her small smile, though, she added, “But not with you.” Taking another sip of her margarita, she began walking across the rooftop toward the crowd, unable to resist checking his reaction over her shoulder as she went.
Hudson was watching her go, his golden hair tinged red by the setting sun.
With creeping dismay, she realized she was enjoying his attention more than she strictly should. Her plan had been to treat him as an irrelevant speed bump. You didn’t mingle at parties with speed bumps, and you definitely didn’t accept margaritas from them.
Annika groaned inwardly as she joined the crowd, ready to network. One thing was certain: She needed to figure out why Hudson was having such an effect on her, and she needed to do it quickly.
* * *
For the next two hours, Annika—and June, though she seemed slightly distracted by Ziggy’s attempts to impress her with his dancing abilities—went from group to group, from potential client to potential client. Annika was surprised by just how many people in the building were interested i
n Make Up. She had a thick stack of their business cards in her bag to prove it. When Make Up was ready to officially launch, they’d have a long list of early users.
Finally, just when her voice was getting hoarse from all the talking she’d done all night—and when the three margaritas she’d had were starting to tire her out—the party began to wind down. People started trickling out in twos and threes, most of them having called Lyfts, thanks to the potent drinks. She’d lost track of June at some point, though she assumed she was still at the party somewhere.
Hudson found her once the businessman she’d been talking to bid his goodbyes. “Rosemary Lotts just said goodbye to me. Apparently, she was really impressed by your pitch.”
“Who?” Annika placed her empty margarita glass on a table. “Oh, the realtor with the blond hair? Yeah, I guess so.” She added begrudgingly, “Thank you for setting all this up. I have to say, it was a success.”
Hudson raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You just complimented and thanked me in the same breath. How much did you have to drink, again?”
Annika scoffed. “All right, all right, don’t make me regret it.”
The corner of Hudson’s mouth twitched. Quietly, he said, “You have a killer energy about you when you talk about Make Up. People dig that.”
“Really?” Annika asked, surprised at his sincerity.
“There are a few things about you that stick out very clearly in my mind from Vegas.” Hudson’s eyes were serious as he leaned against the rooftop railing. “And one of them was your passion for your idea. It was like an energy field around you. It was electric.”
They gazed at each other for what felt like a full minute, Annika’s knees going weak with the memories that were creeping back into her mind. What was he thinking about?
She took a deep breath to get her bearings, but caught a whiff of Hudson’s cologne again, faint and masculine, and put a hand against the railing to steady herself. Turning away, she said, “I—”
And stopped when she felt an arm around her waist.
Her heart did a couple of high-energy flips in her chest. Adrenaline flooded her veins. What was he doing? Did she want him to be doing it?
Annika turned, her mind spinning with thoughts of what she might say.
June stood next to her, grinning. “Oh.” Annika blinked. “Hey.”
“Hey.” June kissed her on the cheek. “I’m taking off.”
“You’re going home? Alone?”
Ziggy appeared at June’s side, smiling. “No,” she replied. “Ziggy’s taking me out to eat.”
“Out to eat?” Annika frowned. This was another unheard-of move in June’s playbook. She went to bars with her hookups, not out to dinner. “Um, okay. Have fun. Will you text me later at some point, just to let me know you’re okay?”
“Of course.” Her blond hair blowing in the breeze, June hugged her and simultaneously whispered in her ear, “What’s going on with you and Hot Hudson?”
“Shh!” Annika led June a few steps away. Thankfully, Hudson was talking to Ziggy and hadn’t heard her. “Don’t let him hear you calling him that; his head’s big enough as it is.”
“Well, you would know.”
Annika groaned. “June. Seriously.” After a pause during which June grinned and looked anything but abashed, she asked, “Anyway, what do you mean, what’s going on with us?”
“The way you two were talking, heads together, his eyes all intense and focused on you … What was he saying?”
Annika rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. “I don’t even remember.”
June smiled at her, a wicked glint in her eye. “Liar.”
“Don’t you have dinner to get to?”
“All right, all right.” June sighed dramatically, and walked back to the guys with her arms flung wide. “Ziggy, take me away!”
Ziggy held out his arm to her, and together they waltzed off the rooftop.
Annika watched them go, feeling slightly off-kilter for reasons she couldn’t put her finger on. “Is he a good guy?” she finally asked Hudson. “Ziggy?”
“The best,” he said simply. “He’s one of those people you can always count on to be there for you. June couldn’t have picked someone better.”
Annika glanced up at him. “Oh, I don’t think that’s going to turn into anything serious,” she said quickly.
Hudson shrugged and looked behind them at the waitstaff, who were now stacking empty trays and glasses. “Hey, they’re packing up out here.” A pause. “I could walk you out. I’m gonna take a Lyft home … I assume you are, too.”
Annika looked down at the sidewalk far below, at the lights of the buildings and cars. Hudson was offering to walk with her. He was just being chivalrous, but still, she felt a thrumming under her skin, something vibrant and alive that had been long-dormant. Stop it. This is Hudson Craft, remember? Impertinent idea stealer? CEO of Heartbreak, Inc.? Supervillain extraordinaire?
“Um…” Annika glanced back at her table, still laden with her banner and paperwork.
“I’ll tip Mel extra and he can take your stuff down to my office, if you want. You can pick it up tomorrow.”
“Who’s Mel?”
“My new assistant.” Hudson thrust his chin in the direction of a scrawny white guy who was bossing some of the caterers around.
What was he, a rock star? First this giant glitzy party, and now a personal assistant?
Still, the thought of breaking down when she was tired, tipsy, and ready to go home in shoes that were really starting to hurt didn’t sound especially thrilling. “He wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
* * *
As they got in the elevator—Annika thinking about how this was the setting for the romantic scene in every rom-com she’d ever watched, and then immediately telling her brain to STFU—someone yelled Hudson’s name.
They turned to see two women and a man racing to the elevator, their eyes bright and cheeks flushed.
“Hey, guys.” Hudson’s voice was hearty as he held the elevator for them. Annika realized it was his PR voice, the one he’d put on when he was talking to everyone on the rooftop. Weird—he hadn’t put on that voice once with her the entire evening. “Enjoy the party?”
“How could we not?” one woman said, grabbing Hudson’s arm. “It was so much fun. You really know how to show people a good time.” She pressed her body against his, her eyes heavy-lidded. There was no mistaking what she was trying to say.
Annika felt a twinge of irritation that she pushed aside. What did she care if Ms. Emma Stone–look-alike was hanging all over Hudson Craft? May the force be with her! And hopefully she wouldn’t wake up to find he’d stolen her purse or identity or something.
Hudson gently extricated himself from the woman and smiled, looking somewhat detached. “Great. I’m glad it was fun.” He met Annika’s eye and she looked away, her heart racing for no discernible reason.
This was none of her business. None at all.
* * *
Once they were outside, the trio dissipated to the right, where their Lyft was waiting. Hudson fell into step beside Annika as they turned left toward the end of the street, where they would wait for their Lyfts once they called them. Annika felt her pulse beat in rhythm with each step they took. Hudson was so close, she could practically feel a tiny, humming current of static electricity between their arms, like a spark waiting to ignite. She blinked the thought away.
They passed a homeless man bundled up in old, ratty blankets, sitting on the stoop of a shuttered liquor store. Hudson reached into his pocket, pulled out a packet of gummy bears, and handed it to him.
“What ya got for me tonight?” The man turned the packet over in his hands eagerly. “Ooh, these are my favorite. God bless you, Hudson.”
“And you, Tommy. See you tomorrow.”
The man waved and tore happily into the packet.
Annika looked up at Hudson and shook her head,
her curls lightly billowing in the breeze.
“What?” he asked, his green eyes luminous in the near dark.
“You give food to homeless guys, but you’re okay with people breaking other people’s hearts. I don’t get you.”
“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.
So cryptic. “And what does that mean?”
He was looking straight ahead, but Annika saw a shadow of emotion—anger? Hurt? Defensiveness?—flit across his face. “What looks like breaking people’s hearts to you might not look that way to everyone.”
What was that supposed to mean? Annika frowned as they passed a narrow alley, where a cat was rummaging through a dumpster. “I saw that woman in the parking garage. She was in complete shock. She had no idea what was even going on.”
Hudson shrugged. “Better than some other alternatives.”
Annika looked at him in disbelief. “Like what? Death?”
“Like being in a dead-end relationship that both parties know isn’t going anywhere. Or being completely abandoned.” He stopped to turn to her. “Or like being ghosted, having no closure, no definitive moment that felt like the end.”
Annika paused, trying to read the flicker of … something … she saw in his eyes. “Hudson—I—” She stepped closer to him, and his body heat wrapped around her. “I didn’t—I mean—what, um…” She wasn’t really sure what she was trying to ask. The vibrant color of his eyes was messing with her mind again; they could be used in war zones against the enemy.
Hudson looked over her shoulder. “Come with me.” And then he walked past her, his arm brushing against hers, his skin hot against her flesh.
Ignoring the jolt she felt, Annika hurried after him, through a pair of wrought iron gates in front of what looked like a hotel. “Where are we going? I still haven’t called my Lyft. You’re not taking me back here to mug me or something, are you? I only carry small bills.”