The Fixed Trilogy

by Laurelin Paige

  Mira spoke before I could give my own greeting. “Are you suggesting Hudson was protecting you? Because that makes me sick.” She roughly handed him her menu.

  “Oh, I know what I want,” he said, setting the menu to the side without acknowledging Mira’s hostility. “He was protecting your mother. He didn’t want her to get hurt from my infidelity.”

  Mira looked to me. “Still a valid comparison—Hudson will do far more for you than he’d do for Mom.” Again, before I had a chance to speak, she turned back to her father. “And you say that as if it were unreasonable that she would be hurt.”

  “It’s unreasonable that he cares.” Jack circled his shoulders, probably trying to release the building tension.

  Mira’s jaw tightened—the same way her brother’s tightened when he was upset. “Thank god he didn’t inherit heartlessness from you.”

  “No, he inherited that from Sophia.”

  Her eyes widened. Leaning forward, she whispered harshly, “Would you just stop?”

  My eyes danced from one to the other as they volleyed their attacks. So much for me being a buffer at the meal. Hudson was right—Mira definitely didn’t need one.

  Jack set his palms on the table and turned to face his daughter. “Mirabelle, I’m not heartless. You think it’s cruel that I cheated on your mother. It was. It is. I’m not perfect.”

  Mira’s eyes filled and I suddenly recognized her anger as pain.

  “But you have to understand, sweetie, that Sophia is also culpable. She’s not an easy woman to love.”

  Mira dabbed at a stray tear that had spilled over. “And do you love her, Daddy?”

  Jack reached over to take Mira’s hand in his. “Yes. I do. Of course, I do.”

  “Do you tell her?”

  “Every day.”

  Mira smiled. But it was brief. She pulled her hand away from his. “Actions speak louder than words, you know.”

  I’d been silent, letting the father and daughter say the things they needed to say, while I sat feeling like a voyeur. But I couldn’t let her last comment go by without reacting. “Sometimes.”

  Jack and Mira looked at me as if they’d just remembered I was there.

  Or maybe they wanted clarification. I wasn’t about to turn the meal into a Hudson-hasn’t-said-he-loves-me conversation, so I simply said, “Sometimes it would be nice to have both.”

  The waiter’s return saved me from saying more. Since everyone else knew what they wanted, I went last, settling on a Chef Salad.

  “And can I get a Manhattan?” Jack asked before the waiter left.

  “For lunch, Dad? Seriously?”

  “Hey, I’m not the one with the drinking problem.”

  I braced myself for Mira’s reaction. Generally, no one spoke about Sophia’s alcoholism. I wasn’t even sure if Mira acknowledged it or if she was in denial.

  Her dark eyes didn’t even flinch. “But you certainly facilitate it.” Apparently, she wasn’t in denial. “Can’t you just have tea? Or water?”

  “Oh for the love of Pete. Your mother isn’t even here.” Jack’s eye twitched—another of Hudson’s traits when he was upset. “Is it too tempting for you, my dear? Because it doesn’t look like you’ve touched your water. I’m sure you’d rather have something stronger.”

  Mira folded her arms over her belly and huffed. “I don’t care what you drink. I’m not thirsty. I’m saving room for my meal.”

  There was finally a break in their bickering, and I searched for a new topic to discuss, but before I could think of one, Jack did.

  “Now what is this about Celia and Hudson?”

  I cringed at the sound of their names together. Like they were a couple.

  Mira’s eyes lit up. “Can I tell him?”

  “Oh my god, no.” Though he’d never said so, I had a feeling Hudson preferred to keep his father out of his private life.

  Mira had no such barriers. “I’m telling him.” Without waiting for my consent, she told a condensed version of the story I’d told her—Celia following me, the notes in the books, Hudson trying to formulate a plan.

  When she finished, I realized I was flushed. All the attention focused on me was embarrassing. “It’s really not a big deal. I was overreacting to bring it up.”

  “No, you’re not!”

  Jack met my eyes, his expression tight. “Mira’s right. Celia isn’t a threat to take lightly.”

  “See that guy over there?” I pointed to a man sitting alone a few tables away. “He’s my new bodyguard. Believe me, we aren’t taking this lightly.” Remembering this new addition to my life renewed my anxiety about the situation.

  “Good. Hudson’s taking her seriously. That makes me feel better.”

  Jack’s concern wasn’t helping me. “Why?”

  He seemed surprised by the question. “I care about you, Laynie.”

  I stiffened, afraid of where his declaration was going.

  If he noticed, it didn’t stop him. “You’re family now. You’re an important part of Hudson’s life and he—and I—would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

  “Thank you, Jack. I really appreciate that.” Of course his affection was innocent. I kicked myself for momentarily thinking otherwise. And his words were an unexpected balm. “I care about you too.” I darted my eyes to Mira. “All of you.” Maybe not Sophia, but that didn’t need to be said aloud.

  I swallowed back the lump of emotion in my throat. “What I meant though, is why does Celia worry you? Why does she care so much about hurting me? She acts like a jealous lover. Were she and Hudson together?”

  “No way,” Mira said at the same time Jack said, “They were never together.”

  “But Hudson’s so secretive. He might not have told either of you. You can’t know for sure.”

  “I know for sure. There’s no way he was with her.” It wasn’t the first time Mira had stated her opinion on the matter.

  Jack agreed. “He’s been disgusted with her ever since she seduced me.”

  Mira scowled. “Seduced you? As if you weren’t part of it.”

  “Yes, I was part of it.” Jack grinned devilishly. “But there are very few men who would turn down a naked woman in their bedroom, no matter what their marital status.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s not unheard of.” Paul Kresh came to mind. I’d been naked in his office once. All it earned me was an arrest.

  The waiter delivered Jack’s drink. Mira rolled her eyes but didn’t comment on his beverage choice again.

  When the waiter left, she asked, “If Hudson’s so disgusted with Celia, why are they even friends?”

  Her question was one I’d asked myself many times over the past few weeks. It never occurred to me that Jack might be the one with the answer.

  He took a swallow of his drink and sat back in his chair. “Hudson blames himself for who she is now. He feels a sort of responsibility for her.”

  Mira’s forehead twisted in confusion. “I don’t get it. Why would he be responsible for who she is?”

  Apparently Mira didn’t know about the true history of Celia and Hudson—how he’d manipulated her into falling for him and then slept with her best friend. It was that betrayal that had driven her to sleep with Jack in the first place. As some sort of revenge.

  Jack met my eyes, confirming he knew more than his daughter. “It’s a long complicated story. If you want to know more, you’re going to have to ask Hudson. Or Celia.”

  “Yeah, that’s not happening.” Using her spoon, Mira fished out an ice cube from her still full water glass and stuck it in her mouth. Surprisingly, she didn’t pursue the long complicated story further.

  While hearing from Jack had been insightful, my one haunting question remained unanswered. “Okay, they’re friends and he’s supported her and he’s never been into her and she knows that—so why is she after us?”

  Jack sighed. “Beats me. It’s probably another one of her games. She’s fond of them, you know. And she’s good at th

em. I put nothing past her. She’s a calculating, conniving woman, and she hates to lose.”

  “Great.” I rubbed my hand across my forehead, trying to ease the headache that was quickly approaching. “How the hell are you supposed to get out of her grasp?”

  “Let her think she’s won.”

  Our meals arrived then, and the conversation turned lighter to talk of Mira’s baby and her decision to not find out whether she was having a boy or a girl and what colors she was planning for the nursery. Despite the earlier tension between her and Jack, they settled into an easy groove, and I found myself more relaxed than I’d been in days. Lunch with the two was just what I’d needed.

  When we were finished, Mira talked us into crème brûlée and coffee. We lingered over our dessert, enjoying each other’s company. Finally, she shoved away her plate. “God, I’m stuffed. And I have to go to the bathroom. Again.”

  I’d gone with her the first time, but now I chose to stay behind, eager to get a few private words in with Jack. This would probably be my only opportunity, after all.

  When Mira was out of earshot, I dove in. “Jack, I have a personal question for you, if you don’t mind.”

  “About six and a half inches. But it’s not size that matters; it’s what you do with it.” Hudson’s dirty sense of humor obviously came from his father.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious.”

  He looked as if he might be preparing a comeback, but perhaps the glare on my face changed his mind. “Okay. Shoot.”

  “Sophia once told me that Hudson was a sociopath. Do you believe that too?” It was blunt perhaps, but I knew Mira would be back soon, and I didn’t know how honest Jack would be with her around.

  “Sophia’s still claiming that bullshit?” Jack shook his head, his expression a combination of disgust and exhaustion. “One psychiatrist suggested it one time a handful of years ago. Hudson’s never been clinically diagnosed as such, and no, I don’t believe it. That boy cares. A lot. He just isn’t always able to express it. Blame that on Sophia too.”

  I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. No matter what Jack’s answer, I already knew what Hudson was and wasn’t. But hearing the details of Sophia’s claim—and knowing his father didn’t agree—was a relief.

  But his words brought up another question, one that had plagued me from the moment I’d met Hudson’s mother. “Why do you blame Sophia for his lack of expression? I don’t think you mean just her drinking. What did she do to him?”

  “Well, if I’m going to explain that then you’re going to realize that I’m to blame too.”

  “I can handle that.”

  “But can I?” Jack considered a moment. Then he sighed. “Sophia wasn’t always hard like she is now. When I married her she was refined and serious, but she could be fun. But then I started building Pierce Industries. I didn’t have the money that Sophia came from. Her parents were convinced that she married beneath her. I wanted to prove them wrong, prove that I could be the man she should have married.”

  “And you did.” Though Hudson had taken Pierce Industries to the top, it had been Jack that had built a solid foundation.

  “I did. And Sophia wanted that too. But she hadn’t expected how lonely it could be, being married to a man who was married to his work. She decided I was cheating long before I ever did.”

  His eyes glossed with sadness, or perhaps regret. “Not being around—that was my mistake. Her loneliness drove her to drinking. Alcohol made her more closed off. So it became a cycle—I wasn’t around because of work and when I was around, I didn’t want to be because my wife was a coldhearted bitch. I’d throw myself more into work, just to avoid her.”

  I hid my smile. If I’d had to live with Sophia, I’d have done the same thing.

  Reading my mind, Jack winked, but his somber tone remained. “Eventually, she realized the one person I would come home for was Hudson. He was my son. My firstborn. I made time for him whenever I could.” Jack’s eyes beamed with a love that only existed between a father and his child.

  It made my heart soar—I really did love this man who loved my man as much as I did.

  Jack swirled his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “Sophia used my son to get to me. She dangled him in front of me to get my attention and pulled him from me just as quickly. Hudson was always a smart kid. He learned pretty early on that his mother used him as bait. Poor guy got caught in the middle of so many games. It’s no wonder he became good at them himself.”

  My chest ached, picturing Hudson as a little boy, only wanting to be loved by his parents, instead being used as a pawn. “Was it the same with Mira?”

  “No. Hudson had already become Sophia’s rival by the time Mira came along. Sometimes I think he fought his mother just to keep his sister out of her focus.” This idea seemed to make Jack proud. “Now does that sound like the actions of a sociopath?”

  “No. It doesn’t. But I already knew he wasn’t. He has too much love in him.” Or was I just fooling myself? If he really loved me, why couldn’t he say it?

  I felt a presence come up behind me, and I turned, expecting to see Mira.

  “What the fuck are you doing here with her?”

  It wasn’t Jack’s daughter.

  It was his wife.

  Chapter Eight

  Sophia’s fingers clutched the back of my chair. “Celia wasn’t enough? Now you have to steal this one from Hudson too?” Her voice was too loud, and people nearby were already starting to murmur.

  Jack’s face said he was as surprised by his wife’s presence as I was. “Sophia. What are you doing here?”

  “Spying on you, osbiviously.” She meant obviously, but her words were slurred and hard to understand. I’d never seen her that way. Never seen her that intoxicated.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “That’s illeverant. Irreverant.” Sophia slumped into Mira’s empty seat. “That doesn’t matter.”

  “How did you even know to come looking for me here?”

  Sophia smirked. “Mira. She told me she was having lunch with you. I decided to come to the lie. To see the lies. To hear your lies about me this time. Now the whole thing is a lie. You got your daughter covering for your cheating ass as well?”

  “Mom?” This time the person behind me was who I was expecting.

  Sophia reached for her daughter’s hand with both of hers. “Mira! Look who I found your father with now. Hudson’s new girl.”

  Mira glanced around at the onlookers as she patted her mother’s hand. “Mom, Dad’s not with Alayna. He’s with me. I told you I’d be here. I was the one who invited Alayna.” She spoke to Sophia like she was a child.

  Memories of helping my own drunken father swam to the surface of my mind. Public situations were the worst. At home, Dad could scream and cry and make a fool of himself. We’d let him pass out in his mess and clean him up later. When there were others around, we had to be responsible and hope he wouldn’t be completely humiliating.

  Mira’s expression said she was hoping pretty damn hard for the same.

  “You invited this whore?”

  Too late—Sophia had already crossed to embarrassing. Though her attacks on me were fairly routine.

  “I did invite her. I didn’t invite you. Why are you here?” Mira waited only a second before going on. “Never mind. Mom, you’re drunk. We need to get you home. Did you take a cab to get here?”

  “No.”

  “How did you get here?” Mira signaled to the waiter to bring our bill. It was admirable how take-charge she was. I guessed it was a role she was used to.

  “Frank?” Sophia paused as if not sure that was the right answer. “Yes, Frank’s outside somewhere.”

  “I’ll call him.” Jack was already pulling out his phone.

  Mira bent down to her mother. “I’m going to walk you to the curb, okay?”

  Jack stood. “No, Mira. Let me. Frank?” he spoke into his cell. “Sophia and I are ready to go home. Fine. We’ll be out there.” He pocketed his phone then moved to help Sophia stand.

  “Did you drive yourself, Daddy?” Mira’s words were mundane, but her eyes were filled with gratitude.

  “Yeah, my car’s with the valet.”

  Sophia fell against Jack. She was passing out.

  Mira gently slapped her mother’s face. “Mom, you’re almost there. Hang on ‘til you get to the car.” When Sophia roused, Mira said to Jack, “I took a cab. I’ll drive your car home for you.”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a valet ticket. “Thank you, babydoll.”

  Mira took the ticket and nodded. Then she collapsed in her chair.

  I watched as Jack led Sophia out of the restaurant. There was love in the kind way he held her up, the way he supported her journey.

  When I turned back to Mira, I found she was crying.

  “Don’t mind me.” She waved at her face as if she could fan away her tears. “I cry at everything these days.”

  “I think this was a valid thing to cry over.” I shifted in my chair. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with Mira’s emotion, but I wished I knew how to soothe her. The best I could come up with was putting a hand on her knee.

  “Why? I should be used to this by now, shouldn’t I?”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew she didn’t really want an answer—she wanted someone to listen. As for myself, I’d never gotten used to it. But Mira was older than I was when my father died. I probably would have expected to be used to it by then too.

  Mira looked out toward the restaurant entrance. Even though her parents were long gone, I knew she was picturing them there. “I just keep thinking, this is going to be the grandma to my baby. Do I want my child to be exposed to this?”

  God, I’d never thought about that. If Hudson and I had a kid…

  I shook the thought off. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. I do know how hard it is to have an alcoholic parent—how embarrassing it is. Has she ever been to rehab?”

  “No.” She laughed, like it was an inside joke of some kind. “She won’t even talk about it.”

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