“Then maybe you better look for a better paying job.”
“Brian, that’s not fair.”
“Think about everything I’ve been through with you and then talk to me about fair.”
He couldn’t have hurt me more with any other words. “I haven’t had any problems in a long time,” I whispered.
“You violated a restraining order.”
“Over four years ago!”
“I’m sorry, Laynie. I can’t support you anymore.” His words were final. He’d made his decision; there would be no convincing him otherwise.
I saw what it had done to him, the years of caring for a mentally disturbed sibling. I’d known—I’d always known—but had never wanted to believe that my actions had hurt him so deeply. It stirred an old ache I had buried.
But I was also angry. I might not be fragile anymore, but I certainly wasn’t steady on my own. Not financially anyway. I needed his support now as much as ever and as shitty as it was, he was my only family. I had no one else.
I threw my napkin on the table and, not sure if I hoped to sound more sincere or snotty, said, “Thanks, Brian. Thanks for everything.” I grabbed my purse from the back of my chair and walked out of The Peacock Alley, careful not to look back. I wanted to appear strong and stoic. Turning back would give my brother a good look at my tears.
I let myself cry until I left the hotel. Once on the street, the city bustle and grit steeled me. I didn’t need Brian. I could do it on my own. Sure he’d helped me foot the bill since my crazy antics had ran through all of my inheritance money, but support and responsibility was much more than throwing cash around.
I hurried back to my apartment, aware that Brian didn’t try to stop me or call me. I spent the next hour behind my computer, figuring out my bills and expenses, searching for ways to make cuts. With a promotion at the club—which wasn’t guaranteed—I could pay for my apartment. But I wouldn’t be able to afford my student loans when they went into repayment the next month.
Brian had effectively trapped me. Not a bad strategy. The Laynie from a day before would have to give into his wishes, taking a job at one of the high paying corporate offices that had pursued me at graduation.
Fortunately, I had another option.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my cell phone and pushed redial. God, was I really doing this? I was. And if I was honest about it, I was glad for the excuse. Maybe I really should have been thanking Brian.
The number Hudson had called the night before rang only once before he answered. “Alayna.” His voice was smooth and sexy. Not sexy like he was coming on to me but like the sex he exuded naturally.
The confidence threw me. “Uh, hi, Hudson.”
I paused.
“Is there something I can help you with?” I sensed he enjoyed my uncertainty. Why couldn’t I display the same confidence he did? I never had anxiety issues at work or at school.
The thought of school jostled something and I blurted out the question that had niggled at me during lunch. “How did you know I was intelligent?”
I heard a creak and I pictured him leaning back in a leather chair behind an executive desk. “What do you mean?”
“You said I was…” I blushed, glad he couldn’t see me. “Beautiful and intelligent—“
He interrupted me. “Exquisitely beautiful and extremely intelligent.”
“Yeah, that.” Having heard them before made his words no less effective. The matter-of-fact manner of his statement should have felt clinical and cold, but they were anything but. A shiver ran up my spine. I cleared my throat. “But you’ve barely talked to me. How do you know anything about my intelligence?”
He paused only briefly. “The graduate symposium at Stern. I saw you present.”
“Oh.” The symposium had been held a month before graduation and had featured the top students from the MBA program. Each of us had presented a new or innovative idea for a panel of experts. My presentation had been called Print Marketing in a Digital Age. I hadn’t wanted to know who was on the panel, knowing that names would send me into obsessive researching and online stalking. Afterward, the experts and presenters were invited to a wine and cheese soiree, so that students could schmooze and corporate execs could make job offers. I’d presented for the experience. For the honor. I hadn’t wanted a job, so I’d skipped the after affair.
Now I wondered what would have happened if I’d gone. Would Hudson have tracked me down? Was it entirely coincidental that he’d made an offer on the club I worked for around the same time as the symposium?
“Is that the only reason you called, Alayna?” His all-business words held a hint of a tease.
“No.” I closed my eyes and clutched onto the side of my desk for support. Accepting his offer was harder than it should be. I couldn’t help but feel it was too easy of an out—like I was selling my soul to the devil.
But I also felt a surge of excitement, a thick electric wave of freedom. “Your proposition—I’d like to do it. I’m saying yes.” Remembering his other proposition to seduce me, I clarified. “Your offer to pay my student loans, I mean.”
His chair creaked again and I imagined him standing, his hand thrust in the pocket of an Italian suit. Ah, yum. “I’m very happy to hear that, Alayna.”
I shook the vision out of my head and waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I said, “So what happens now?”
“I have time in my schedule at four-thirty. Come to my office at Hudson Industries then and we’ll finalize the details.”
I’d get to see him in—I looked at my watch—two hours. My heart sped up. “Sounds nice. I mean, good. Sounds good.”
He chuckled. “Goodbye, Alayna.”
“Bye.” I hugged the phone for several seconds after he hung up, mesmerized by this stranger’s effect on me, wondering if I’d be able to pull off the scam he’d concocted, hopeful I’d be able to thwart his promised advances.
All right, maybe I didn’t hope for that last one, but I wanted to believe I did. For my sanity’s sake.
I also thought about the symposium, considering the possibility that Hudson Pierce had gone to greater lengths than he’d let on to set up this facade for his parents.
Maybe the thought should have scared me. But it only intrigued me more.
Chapter Six
Two hours turned out to be barely enough time to prepare for seeing Hudson. I spent a long time in the shower, shaving my legs and underarms and cleaning up my Brazilian, chastising myself as I did since there was no way Hudson was going to see my lady parts.
Then I stood in front of my closet for what felt like hours. I’d be going straight from Hudson’s office to the club to meet with David then a full shift of bartending after that. I needed the perfect blend of smart and sexy with a dash of fuck-me-please—for work, of course. Finally I settled on a belted teal and black shirtdress. It was shorter than I would have liked for the business part of my plans, but still longer than most of the dresses I wore at the club. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and kept my makeup to mascara and lip-gloss. I looked good—fresh and natural.
Having been too distracted to ask Hudson where Pierce Industries was located, I had to Google it. Turned out the offices were near the One Worldwide Plaza, a straight subway shot to the club. From my apartment, I took a cab, not wanting to get sweaty. And, hey, I was getting eighty thousand dollars—I could afford a taxi to the West Side.
I’d been by the beautiful copper-topped granite and brick building many times, but never inside it. Pierce Industries took the top several floors, and I recognized some of the other tenants listed in the lobby as Pierce Industry subsidiaries. I got directions from the security guard and took the elevator to the top floor.
The lengthy ride gave me one more chance for a silent pep talk. Three years sober, Laynie. You cannot fixate on him. You cannot obsess.
But as I checked in with the pretty blonde receptionist, I felt an aching stab of envy because she got to work close to Hu
dson on a daily basis. God, I was already in trouble. He didn’t make it into the Oh, fuck category of attractive men for nothing.
“Miss Withers,” the blonde said after notifying her boss I’d arrived. “He’s ready for you.”
I checked my watch—four twenty-two. How long had Hudson been waiting? Did I get the time wrong?
The thick double doors behind the receptionist’s desk opened, seemingly by themselves. She must have pushed a button somewhere. “Right through there,” she said.
I stepped tentatively into the office. Hudson, who sat behind an expansive modern executive desk, stood when he saw me. “Alayna. Come in.”
When I caught a full view of him, I froze. In his well-lit office, I truly saw Hudson Pierce for the first time. And he was gorgeous. He wore a pinstriped three-piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt and a plum and white striped tie. His black thick-framed glasses, which should have screamed nerd alert, had me slipping in my panties. He looked sharp and smart and commanding and…wow.
I swallowed. Twice. “Am I late?”
“Not at all.” His sexy voice made my knees buckle and I suddenly regretted my high-heeled Mary Janes. “My last appointment finished earlier than I’d anticipated. Have a seat.”
Determined to appear poised and with it, I straightened my stance and strode to the chair he gestured at in front of his desk.
“Hmm,” I said, looking around after I was seated. The generous office space continued the modern décor throughout. Behind his desk were floor to ceiling glass windows giving a breathtaking view of Midtown. “Nice place. Not what I’d pictured, but incredible.”
Hudson unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, brows raised. “You pictured my office?”
My cheeks grew warm. Now he thought I’d been thinking about him. I had been, but he didn’t need to know. “I thought you’d be more traditional. But the modern really suits you.”
A small smile crept on his face. “Actually, I have a designer. I have no idea what’s modern or contemporary or traditional. She showed me pictures of things she thought I’d like and I nodded.”
I grinned, knowing he was attempting to put me at ease, but my stomach bunched into knots. Hudson’s office was unfamiliar territory for a nightclub bartender and we were meeting to discuss an unusual business deal. And he was so fucking hot, he dazzled me.
“I hope you don’t mind if we get to business first.”
“Of course not.” If business was first, I wondered what would follow.
Nothing. Nothing would follow because when we were finished I would politely thank him and leave his office.
Ha ha, right.
“As I said earlier, I’m very pleased that you’ve accepted my offer. Before you officially agree, though, I want to make sure you understand exactly what I am asking of you. We tabled this discussion last night…” He paused and I suspected he was recalling the reason the discussion was tabled. At least, that’s what I was thinking about. “So I neglected to mention a key point.”
Hudson leaned back in his chair, placing his arms on the rests. “I’m a very high profile man, Alayna. Convincing my mother that we are a couple requires putting on a show for the world. That means you will be ‘on duty’, so to say, at all times. When we are together around other people, we will play the happy couple. When we aren’t together, you must still act as though you’re mine.”
Was it my imagination or had he emphasized the words you’re mine? Either way, goose bumps travelled down my skin.
“You can’t tell anyone that we are not really in a relationship.”
I creased my forehead and my mouth suddenly went dry. “I hadn’t realized that.”
“No, I suspected as much.” He narrowed his eyes, gazing my reaction. “Are you still interested?”
I didn’t really have a choice. Either accept it or give into Brian’s wishes. Besides, whom would I want to tell? Liesl. And David. Was I still thinking about David with tall, hot, and devastatingly handsome sitting in front of me? Yes. Because David had the potential of being real. And frankly, I didn’t know that I actually liked Hudson beyond the whole physical thing. I certainly shouldn’t.
“How long would we keep up the act?”
“As long as we feel we can without imposing too much on our personal lives. The longer the better, obviously, but if my mother sees that I am capable of falling in love, she won’t try to press me into a loveless marriage, even if you and I have ‘broken up.’”
“Are you still interested?”
“It’s eighty thousand dollars, Hudson. That’s a drop in the bucket for you, but for me...I understand if I have to work for it.”
He relaxed, nodding. “Good.” Hudson pressed a button on his desk.
“Yes, Mr. Pierce?” The sweet timbre of the receptionist’s voice filled the room.
“Send him in, please, Patricia.” Hudson stood and pressed another button on his desk.
I’d heard her answer the phone as Trish when I’d arrived and I wondered if he was opposed to nicknames for people in general, or if he just knew the weight of using a proper name—the power it held over people.
The doors opened and a dark-haired, muscular man in a black suit walked in. If Hudson hadn’t already sent my horny button into overdrive, I was pretty sure this guy would have set it buzzing.
“This is Jordan,” Hudson said, crossing around to the front of his desk. Jordan nodded. “He’s been assigned to drive you to and from work and anywhere else you may need to go.”
Not that I wanted to turn down such a beautiful gift, but one thing I loved about NYC was alternate modes of transportation. My parents died in a car accident. Cars weren’t my favorite. “I don’t need a driver.” Then, so I wouldn’t seem ungrateful I added, “I usually get my exercise running home.”
“Then he will drive you to work and follow you home when you run to make sure you arrive safely.” Before I could argue, Hudson eyed me sternly. “Alayna, my girlfriend would have a driver. She’d also have a bodyguard. I’m willing to forego the bodyguard if you use my driver.”
I took a deep breath. “All right.”
“He’ll be waiting downstairs to take you to the club when we’ve finished. Thank you, Jordan.”
Jordan nodded again and then left the office. Hudson pushed a button and the doors shut behind the driver.
“And Alayna, wipe that look off your face. Jordan’s gay. I wouldn’t have hired him for you otherwise.”
I folded my arms over my chest, embarrassed and chided. Also, I decidedly did not like Hudson. Beyond the sexual appeal, anyway. “Anything else?” I couldn’t look at him.
He leaned back to sit on the front edge of his desk, his body close enough to touch without much movement on my part. “My mother is hosting a charity fashion show on Sunday. That will be our first outing as a couple.”
“Okay.” I crossed my leg over the other, his close proximity making me fidgety. And while I was so affected by him, I realized he’d been nothing but business since I’d arrived. Had his move on me the night before been a way to insure I’d accept his proposition? If so, he was a total ass.
“Your loans will be written off as of nine a.m. Monday morning. A written confirmation will be sent to you.”
“Don’t you want to wait and see if we pull this whole thing off first?” I hadn’t meant to come off snotty. Well, not entirely. I was beginning to feel like a deal he was negotiating. I didn’t like it.
“I’m really not worried about it, Alayna.” Hudson seemed on edge as well. “But if you prefer, I’ll postpone the write-off by one week.”
“Fine, whatever. Do I sign some agreement or something?”
“I’d rather there isn’t a paper trail on this.”
“But if anyone questioned my loans being paid off—“
“I would pay off my girlfriend’s loans.” Of course he would. “And any other debt. Do you have other debt?”
“No.” I had a Visa I’d charged up. He didn’t need to know a
bout that. “Is that all?”
Hudson shrugged, the gesture out-of-place for such an assured man. “Unless you have any other questions.”
I hesitated to ask, but I had to know. “When we’re together, in public, I mean, I can hold your hand and…kiss you?” I peered at him through my mascara thick lashes.
The corner of his lip twitched. “I expect you to. Often.” Um, wow. “Anything else?”
Thinking about kissing him, I ran my tongue over my lower lip. “No.”
“Then the business portion of this meeting is done.” He stood and moved back around to his side of the desk. He removed his suit jacket and hung it on the back of his chair. Fuck—the vest, tight across his torso, showing his lean muscular middle—yeah, it was distracting.
Hudson stood in front of his chair and leaned on his desk, his palms flat in front of him. He stared at me for several seconds, and I itched to know what he was thinking. When he spoke, his tone was low and even. “In about two minutes, Alayna, I’m going to come around this desk and kiss you until you’re wet and gasping for air.”
Oh, wow.
“But first, let me clear up one thing that I suspect may be an issue. This charade is mostly about me convincing my mother. I will be saying and doing things—romantic things, perhaps—that are not genuine. I need you to remember that. Out of the public eye, I will seduce you. That will be genuine, but it can never be misconstrued as love.”
“Because you’re incapable of love.” My voice sounded meek and flat.
“Yes.”
Curiosity pulled me to lean forward. “Why do you believe that?”
Hudson straightened and removed his glasses, setting them on the desk. “I’m twenty-nine years old and have never had any inclination toward a woman other than to have her in my bed. I don’t do romantic relationships. I’m married to my work.” He walked slowly around his desk toward me. “That, and casual sex, are what fulfill me.”
I sorted through the oddity of the situation in my mind. Hudson Pierce wanted sex. With me. But not a relationship. But he wanted his mother to believe he had a relationship. With me. So that she didn’t realize her son was incapable of love. Which he was.
The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You Page 6