“We should totally get together again,” Celia exclaimed, almost at the exact moment I was thinking it. “Here.” She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to me. “My cell is on here. Call me and we can do coffee. Tomorrow, maybe?”
“I’d like that.” I took the card from her, glancing at the print. Celia Werner, Corporate and Private Interior Design.
“Awesome. Give me a call in the morning then.” She paused. “Oh, and if I don’t answer, keep calling. I have a nasty habit of leaving my phone in random places and if you call over and over then I will get to you. And I’ll find my phone! It’s a total win-win.”
I laughed at her method of phone control. “Perfect.”
“Great! Tomorrow then. Give Hudson my love.” She started toward the library door and then stopped and turned back to me, her hand clutched against her chest. “You know, it really is about time Hudson had someone in his life, and I’m so glad it’s someone who loves and understands him as it seems you do.” Her words and actions would seem overly dramatic for most people, yet she was just classy enough to get away with it.
“Thanks. I do. I get him.” Probably more than either he or I knew yet.
“I know you do.” Her face grew serious. “He’s told me things about you, too. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
She could only be referring to my crazy stalker past. Some of it was quite embarrassing. I’d violated a restraining order once. For that, I had a police record. It was buried now, by Hudson and my lawyer brother, but that didn’t change that it had happened. That I had done that. It was only one of a long list of many shitty things I’d done.
Normally I would have been humiliated to find that someone knew about my history. But right then, with all the good that was going on with Hudson, I didn’t. “No, it doesn’t bother me. Surprisingly.”
“Good.” She smiled. “I won’t tell anyone, of course. I’m glad that I know though. I can see how perfect you are for him because of what you’ve been through yourself. I’m on your side.”
“Thank you. I’m very grateful.”
She winked. “Okay, well, I’m off. Good luck!”
I stood in the library thinking over Celia’s visit long after she had gone and I had programmed her number into my phone. I was looking forward to having coffee with her, and, the truth was, that made me feel twitchy. As sure as I was that she could be a vital source of Hudson insider knowledge, I was also sure he’d be none too happy about it. And rightly so. If I wanted to learn about his past, I should go through him.
Still, could it really hurt to have coffee?
I decided to put my decision off until the morning.
Scanning the dozens of boxes once again, I decided to open some up and start unpacking them on the shelves. Hudson had said to make myself at home, and it would keep me from snooping. Even though I’d gotten permission, it wasn’t the healthiest behavior.
I found a letter opener in one of Hudson’s drawers and, kneeling beside one of the boxes, I used the opener to cut through the packaging tape. Molière was on top, along with a copy of Shakespeare. Underneath, I found several other classics from Dante to Dickens. I sat back on my heels and looked at the shelves, formulating a plan to organize the library.
My library.
Hudson hadn’t said it was mine, but I couldn’t help but think of it as such. I loved books—not only the stories they contained, but the feel of them in my hands, the silk of the pages, the words all collected in one place. Hudson didn’t have any interest in physical books. Obviously. His bare shelves were proof of that. He read everything on his e-reader. These were my books. I’d already adopted them and was sure Hudson wouldn’t protest. He’d only ordered them to fool his mother, even though I doubted Sophia visited his penthouse very often.
Also in the stack of lies told to Sophia, Hudson had declared I was moving in with him. How long before that became a reality?
No, I couldn’t plan for that. Like I’d told myself earlier, it was too soon, and we weren’t ready.
But would it really hurt to fantasize about it for a few minutes? To imagine living with him in the penthouse? And more? Me running the nightclub with Hudson at my side. Engagement rings and bridal parties flashed through my daydream. Was it really so bad to hope for?
Yes. It was. I had to stop now because daydreaming could very easily lead to fixation. I needed a substitute obsession. Something else to occupy my mind.
I tried to return my focus to the books, but again my mind wandered to the future—weddings and the club and parties.
That was when the idea hit me. I abandoned my task and found my phone to call Jordan. I needed a ride.
***
“Bachelorette parties?” David Lindt leaned back in the desk chair and swiveled from side to side.
I hadn’t been sure David would be at The Sky Launch so early in the day, but I’d lucked out. He was the general manager of the nightclub, and since Hudson had relinquished the running of the business to him, he was the one I needed to approach with any ideas for improvement.
Which was why I’d come in more than six hours before my shift started to share my stroke of genius. “Yes. Bachelorette parties.”
“Seriously? That’s your big idea?”
“Come on, it’s perfect!” I threw my hands up for emphasis. This was a good idea, and talking about it calmly had not seemed to have done the trick of convincing David. “It’s wedding season and the bubble rooms are the perfect place for privacy while still being surrounded by the club scene. You know as well as I do the stuff that goes on in those rooms.”
The bubble rooms were, in my opinion, the highlight of The Sky Launch. The ten circular rooms ran the circumference of the second floor. Each room had its own entrance and was completely enclosed to ensure privacy. Or rather, a sense of privacy. It was an illusion since each of the rooms also had a window that overlooked the dance floor below and if you looked across, you could see everything that happened on the other side. Plenty of times, the things that went on in those rooms were rated R and, more often, rated X.
The bubbles, however, had been neglected in promotion for as long as I’d been an employee of the club. I’d gotten my promotion partly on the promise to find ways to better use the unique feature. Promoting them for bachelorette parties—that plan was gold.
David didn’t seem to have the vision I did. “We’ve had bachelorette parties in here before. Not many, but a few.”
“And they always go well, don’t they?”
“The customers are always pleased.” He twisted his lips as he considered.
With his constant fidgeting and weird faces, I wondered briefly how I’d ever thought I was attracted to the man.
The answer was that I hadn’t been. Not truly. David had been a nice option when I’d been too afraid to go after any men who really turned me on. I’d thought I could have a future with him. I’d figured that being with a man like David was the cure to my obsession—not actually caring for him kept me from the outrageous behavior of my past.
And he’d been cute enough. We’d never gone all the way, but we’d come pretty close, and becoming aroused had never been a problem.
All thoughts of David had disappeared when Hudson entered my life. I gave up the safe bet for the real thing, and, even with the ups and downs of loving Hudson, I didn’t regret it one bit.
David regretted it, however. He wanted something more between us and had told me so just the day before. But he knew where my feelings lay. He knew whom my heart belonged to.
Now he brought his pen up to his mouth and bit on the already chewed end. Pen between his teeth, he asked, “How do you expect to draw people to book the rooms for that?”
“Marketing.” Obviously. That had been my emphasis area of my newly acquired MBA, and I was anxious to use it. It was what I had to offer the nightclub—my expertise. “We’ve never advertised those rooms to any specific market. They’re underutilized and wasted space compared to what they coul
d be used for. And if we bundled the rooms in packages designed specifically for soon-to-be-married brides, I think we could really attract some attention.”
“Yeah, I see some potential.” Finally. “What’s your strategy?”
“I need some time to put it all together into a formal plan, but I’m thinking I could book some meetings with wedding planners. If I can offer a good deal, they’d tell their clients. Maybe we can give them referral bonuses or offer them a certain percentage of our booking fee as a kickback. But first we need to design some packages. Include some party trays and a certain dollar amount from the bar and we’ve got something to sell.”
Behind me, my phone beeped with an incoming text. It had died on my way to the club right after I texted Hudson my plans for the afternoon. Luckily I had a spare charger I kept in the office by the file cabinets and I’d plugged it in as soon as I arrived. “So what do you think?” I asked as I crossed to my phone.
“I think you’re onto something. Let’s do it.”
I grinned triumphantly before glancing down at my message.
“I’ve arranged the cook. Will you still be home for dinner?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I responded, his use of the word home making me as giddy as it had that morning.
“Pierce?”
David’s question broke through my euphoria. “Yeah, it’s Hudson.”
“Something good?”
I hadn’t realized I’d been smiling until then. “Everything good.”
Leaving the phone to continue charging, I returned to the chair I’d been sitting in. “I’m meeting him for dinner. Don’t worry, I’ll be back by the time my shift starts.”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about changing your schedule.” David stood and came around the front of the desk, leaning on the corner. “I promoted you so that you could do this kind of stuff. We have enough managerial coverage. If we need someone else—which I’m sure we will if your plans work out like I know they will—Sasha’s ready to be a manager. Your gift, what you bring to The Sky Launch, is your business ideas. I need you to go work magic. That’s not my department.”
“So,” I furrowed my brow, “what are you saying?”
“I’m saying make your own schedule. I need you on the clock forty hours a week—not a problem for you, you work addict—but you can put it in whenever you need it. Set up those meetings with the wedding planners. And I’d like to go forward with your idea of expanding hours and our services. That’s going to take a lot of daytime planning as well. You’ll need to meet with cooks and additional staff. It’s going to be a lot of work.”
It felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head. “Seriously? I mean, seriously do all that amazing stuff and make my own hours?” This was my dream job coming to fruition. All the hours of fighting with my brother Brian about wasting my education and the job opportunities I’d turned down with Fortune 500 companies—this made every doubt and heartache worth it.
“Yes, seriously. I wouldn’t joke about this shit. Start with taking tonight off.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t run the upstairs bar with one person.”
“Liesl’s coming in. It’s already covered.”
Of course Liesl would agree to work a shift for me. She was pretty much my one and only friend in the city. Half space cadet, half genius, she was everything I wasn’t—free and laid-back and flirtatious without having to worry about becoming attached. Even though we were complete opposites, she understood me like no one else and was much more generous to me than I often deserved. “She worked for me the whole time I was in the Hamptons. I can’t make her do that.”
“She volunteered. We hired that new waitress, and Liesl’s determined she be trained right—her words, not mine. And if you’re going to set up some meetings for tomorrow, you’ll need to adjust to being awake during the day. Right now you’re sort of a vampire.” He moved his eyes down my legs. “A tan vampire, but a vamp nonetheless.”
I laughed, hiding my unease at the obvious lust in his stare. I stood to put us on the same level. Otherwise it felt like he was looking down at nothing but tits. “Thank you, David. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m…” There weren’t words for how grateful I was for this opportunity. “Just thank you.”
“You deserve it.” He straightened from his leaning position and threw his arms out to his sides. “Hug it out?”
“That got me in trouble last time.” Hudson had walked in on that and been pretty pissed. He wasn’t a man who shared. I’d managed to talk him down, convinced him my hug with David had been innocent, which it had been, as far as I was concerned. Still, Hudson suspected there was something more between me and David. And, like a chicken-shit, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to admit he was right. David and I did have a history. But compared to what I felt for Hudson, it seemed like an insignificant detail.
I stuck my hand out toward David. “Settle for a handshake?”
He nodded as he took my hand. He held it much longer than he should have, his thumb caressing along my skin, sending unwanted goose bumps down my arms.
I pulled away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. Though I felt nothing for David, my body still reacted to his. He was plain but attractive—his eyes a dull blue, his hair dark blond and curly. He worked out but had a stocky frame. He’d never been my type, and my reaction was likely only out of habit. But it was enough to make me feel a weight of sudden guilt—I shouldn’t hide my past with David from Hudson. I’d been quick to accuse him of keeping secrets in our relationship, and here I was doing exactly that. It was wrong, and I knew it.
I also knew I wouldn’t tell him. I doubted he’d let me continue working with David if he knew we’d had a past, and if he found out on his own, my silence might help in my defense. I’d explain to Hudson that I didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. He’d understand.
Maybe if I kept telling myself that, I’d eventually believe it.
Chapter Four
Hudson was already home, jacket discarded, when I got back to the penthouse that evening. He met me as I stepped out of the elevator, greeting me with a lush kiss that swept me off my feet.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“You’re late,” he said against my lips.
“And?”
“I worried.” His mouth swept across my cheek and down toward my earlobe.
My eyes widened both in surprise and at the yummy thing he was doing to that sensitive spot below my ear. “That something had happened to me?”
“That you weren’t coming.”
I pushed him back to meet his eyes. “Why Hudson Alexander Pierce, did you worry I’d stand you up?” It was silly to even think about. “Don’t you realize I’m the kinda girl that sticks?”
He leaned back in to rub his nose against mine. “If you acted as smart as you are, you would have stood me up weeks ago.”
“Good thing I don’t act smart.”
“Good thing for me, yes.” He released me and took my purse off my shoulder, which he stowed in the coat closet. Then, weaving his fingers through mine, he tugged me after him through the foyer toward the living room.
“Guess what.” I admired his back as I followed him, his taut muscles visible through his dress shirt.
“You don’t have to work tonight.”
I stopped short, my hand slipping from his grasp. “How do you always know everything?”
“I don’t.” He turned back to face me, a smile toying on his perfect lips. “But where you’re concerned I make an effort. David called me this afternoon and asked if I approved of you making your own hours.”
“And you said, ‘Yes, because then I can conform my schedule to Alayna’s so we can fuck as much as possible.’” I laughed at my horrible imitation of Hudson’s voice.
“I said I thought it was a good idea.” Instantly, I was back in his arms. “But I was thinking what you said.” His mouth circled above mine, teasing.
“I love you.”
He moved tighter into me. “I hope that my ability to change your working hours is not the sole basis of your fondness for me.”
“It is not. Trust me.” This time I kissed him, licking along his upper lip.
When he pulled away, his eyes were clouded with desire. “Dinner’s ready, precious.”
He led me to the dining room where the table was set with a bouquet of white orchids, two lit candlesticks, an opened bottle of wine, and two place settings at one end.
He waved his hands toward the candles. “These would have a more dramatic effect if it weren’t so light in here.”
“Yes, it’s terrible that your penthouse has floor-to-ceiling windows that let in so much sun,” I teased. “Honestly, it’s lovely.” Our eyes locked for a moment, caught up in each other.
Jesus, if we kept looking at each other like that, food would have to wait. I was already feeling moist in my panties.
Noticing the aroma of fresh herbs, I broke our gaze and looked toward the quiet kitchen. “Where’s the cook? Did she abandon you?”
“She did not. She cooked and then she left. Our plates are waiting under the warmer.” He pulled a chair out, gesturing for me to sit. “I presume I can manage the service without her.”
I kept my eye on him as I sat. “Honey, you don’t need anyone’s help with service.”
“Hey now.” He tapped my nose with his finger as he delivered his reprimand. “Food first. I need my energy to keep up with you. But if we get through dinner, perhaps there will be dessert.”
“A naughty dessert, I hope.”
“No hoping necessary.”
Hudson poured white wine into my glass before filling his own. Then he disappeared into the kitchen returning a few minutes later with two plates of food. He set a plate in front of each of us and then sat down. Together we dined catty-corner from each other, tangling our legs under the table. We chatted about our day and when I told him about my bachelorette party ideas for the club, he was both supportive and impressed.
The Fixed Trilogy Page 30