The Invitation

by Vi Keeland

  “So I guess you haven’t heard from Hudson?”

  I sighed as my shoulders wilted. “He hasn’t been in the office. I get business emails sometimes, but those always come really early in the morning—like four AM. He’s still working, but from home, and he’s not speaking to me on a personal level.”

  Fisher sipped his champagne. “So you don’t even know if he’s confronted his ex-wife? Told her he knows about the diary and everything in it?”

  I shook my head. “He took the book when he left, but I have no idea what he’s done with it or who he’s spoken to.”

  “He can’t hold this against you forever. None of it is your fault.”

  “I’m not even sure he believes me that it’s a coincidence I had the book.”

  “How could it not be a coincidence?”

  “Think about it. I just happened to show up at his sister’s wedding—a woman I’d never met before—after reading his ex-wife’s diary?”

  “But you didn’t know it was his ex-wife.”

  I shrugged. “I know…but it seems awfully convenient.”

  “So what does he think? You stalked him or something? You read his ex-wife’s diary, somehow figured out who he is, and set out to make him fall in love with you? That’s one boiling bunny short of a Glenn Close movie.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what he thinks.”

  “Well, you want to know what I think?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course not, silly girl.” Fisher reached across the table, took my hand, and squeezed. “I don’t think any of the things that happened are coincidence. I think life is a series of stepping stones that branch out in all different directions. We have no idea what path we’re supposed to follow, so we tend to walk a straight line and follow the biggest stones, because that’s the easiest thing to do. Coincidences are the smaller stones that lead you on a path that veers off. If you’re brave enough, you follow those stones, and you wind up exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

  I smiled sadly. “That’s beautiful. When did you become so enlightened?”

  “About ten minutes ago when I was seated at this table and the waiter walked over. The hostess had asked me if I wanted a high table or a booth. I said a high table, but she walked me over to this booth anyway. I could have told her it wasn’t what I’d requested, but instead, I followed one of the little stones down a new path and look what it brought me.”

  My forehead wrinkled. “I’m lost. What did it bring you?”

  Our waiter approached, carrying a tray with our appetizer. He set the dish in the middle of the table and flashed a dazzling smile at Fisher. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Not at the moment. But maybe later?”

  The waiter’s eyes sparkled. “You got it.”

  After he walked away, Fisher picked up a mozzarella stick and winked at me. “Him. That path brought me him, and I think that’s exactly where I’m supposed to be in a few hours.”

  ***

  On Friday night, I left the office about seven. Signature Scent was shipping without a hitch, and next week the website would go live for orders from the public. Olivia had managed to get me time on some local morning news shows for various segments that featured women in business, and a few magazines had agreed to do interviews with me. Everything I’d dreamed about for so long was coming true, yet I couldn’t find it in me to enjoy it.

  This morning I’d broken down and texted Hudson I miss you. I could see he’d read it, but no return message ever came. I was heartbroken. Once, when I was a kid, I’d been jumping waves at the beach and one had hit me hard. It sucked me under, and I’d tumbled around like a ragdoll, losing sight of which way was up. That—that’s how I’d felt this week without speaking to Hudson. I’d had to drag my ass out of bed to come to work.

  Now it was the weekend, but for some reason, I wasn’t ready to go home. On the train, I just sort of zoned out as it headed uptown. At one point I happened to look up as we were pulling into a station, and the name of the stop painted on the wall caught my attention as we slowed.

  Bryant Park—42nd Street.

  I stood. The train was packed, so I pushed my way through a dozen people to get to the doors and step off. The New York Public Library was right around the corner. The last thing I should be doing was sitting on the steps, reminiscing about the night Hudson and I had first danced, yet I couldn’t have stopped myself from going if I’d tried.

  It was fall, so the days were getting shorter, and not long after I sat down in the same spot I’d sat in a hundred times before, the sun started to set. The sky lit up in a purpley orange, and I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a minute, trying to let nature’s beauty lift my spirit. When I opened them, my gaze cast down the steps and snagged on a man stopped at the bottom, staring up at me.

  I blinked a few times, assuming my imagination was playing tricks on me.

  But it wasn’t.

  My heart seemed to skip every other beat as Hudson climbed the steps to where I sat.

  “Mind if I sit with you?” His face was unreadable.

  “No, of course not.”

  Hudson settled in next to me on the marble step. His legs spread wide, and he clasped his hands between his knees and stared down for the longest time. It gave me a chance to look at him. Only a week or so had passed since I’d last seen him, yet I could tell he’d lost some weight. His face looked drawn, he had dark circles ringing his eyes, and his skin—normally tan and bright—looked sallow and dull.

  So many questions ran through my head. Had he come looking for me? Or had he come to do his own thinking? Was he okay? What had transpired over the last week? Based on Hudson’s face, it looked like things had taken a turn for the worse. But it also seemed like he had something to say, and whatever it was, wasn’t easy. So I fished inside my purse for the Hershey bar and offered it to him.

  He smiled sadly. “You look like you could use it as much as I could. Wanna share?”

  For the next ten minutes, we sat next to each other in silence on the steps of the New York Public Library—the place he’d gotten married, the place we’d met, the place his parents, whose relationship he revered so much, had also said their vows—and shared a chocolate bar while watching the sunset.

  Eventually, he cleared his throat. “You okay?”

  “I’ve been better. How about you?”

  He smiled sadly. “Same.”

  Again we were quiet for long moments.

  “I’m sorry I disappeared for a while,” he finally said. “I needed some time to figure things out.”

  I shifted and turned to face him, though he continued to stare forward and not look at me while I spoke. “Did you?” I asked. “Figure things out, I mean?”

  He shrugged. “As much as I can, I guess.”

  I nodded.

  Hudson stared out at the sunset while tears pooled in his eyes. He swallowed before he spoke. “Jack admitted it.”

  My heart ached. I had no idea what we were to each other anymore, but that didn’t stop me from offering compassion. I clasped my hand with his and held it tight. “I’m sorry, Hudson. I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I decided not to speak to Lexi about it.”

  Wow. I would’ve thought that was the first place he’d go. “Okay…”

  “The only thing letting her know would accomplish is giving me the satisfaction of screaming at her. It wouldn’t do me any good, nor Charlie. My head isn’t screwed on straight enough to deal with things. As far as I’m concerned, Lexi is the enemy, and it’s never a good idea to let the enemy know your plans. I need to know exactly where I stand, and if need be, what my rights are, before dealing with her.” Hudson swallowed again. His voice was hoarse when he continued. “Charlie is my daughter. That’s not going to change if…if…” He couldn’t even say the words.

  Tears filled my eyes. “You’re absolutely right. And you’re an amazing father—an amazing man for putting Charlie’s feelings
first at a time when it would’ve been really easy to be irrational.”

  “I did get our DNA tested, though. I swabbed her cheek while she was sleeping and dropped it off at the lab yesterday, along with a sample of my own. I don’t really want to know the results, but I feel like it would be irresponsible not to. God forbid something happens and she needs blood or something.” He paused, and this time he failed at holding back his emotions. His voice broke. “I’ll know in about a week.”

  He hadn’t given me any indication that things between us were okay. But that didn’t matter. Hudson was a broken man, and I couldn’t just sit here and watch him fall apart. I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, Hudson.”

  His shoulders shook as I held him. He made no sound, but I knew he was crying because I felt the wetness on my neck where his face was buried. I thought he might feel better if he got it out—crying is a physical release of pain. But I also knew the type of man Hudson was. He would keep some of it in to torture himself—because deep down, he probably felt like it was partly his fault. He would blame himself for working too much and not giving his wife enough attention, or not bringing home flowers for no reason. It was misplaced guilt, of course, but he was such an honorable man, I was certain he wouldn’t see it that way.

  Eventually, Hudson pulled back. He looked straight into my eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry I needed some time apart.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no reason to be sorry. I understand. I hid from you for a while there as well. Just please know I never meant to keep any of it from you. I truly didn’t make the connection until that night at your apartment. And then…I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to.”

  “I know that now. It was just a lot of coincidences to take in at once. I needed some time to absorb everything, and then to realize none of this was a coincidence at all.”

  I pulled back. “What do you mean?”

  Hudson pushed a lock of hair from my face. “Why are you here right now?”

  “You mean at the library?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head. “I was on my way home from work on the train, and I looked up and saw this stop. Something just compelled me to get off.”

  “You know why I’m here?”

  “Why?”

  “I was also on the train, but heading uptown to your apartment. I glanced up for a half second, and through the sea of people packed into the subway car during rush hour, I saw you getting off at Bryant Park. My train had stopped on the track directly across from yours. I tried to get off, but we started moving before I could make it. So I got off at the next stop and ran all the way back here.”

  My eyes widened. “You just happened to look up and see me getting off a train that I just happened to randomly get off when it wasn’t even my stop?”

  “If I wasn’t sure what was going on before, I am now.” He cupped my cheeks and met my gaze. “None of this is a coincidence, sweetheart. It’s the universe conspiring for us to be together. It has been from the very start—before we even met.”

  Tears rushed to my eyes all over again. The hollowness I’d felt in my chest over the last week began to fill with hope. I thought about how much we’d both been hurt—Hudson, of course, far worse than me. That damn diary had been at the root of it all, but he was right. It was more than just a series of coincidences. There’d been a higher power working for us all along.

  I smiled and leaned in to brush my nose against his. “You know, I think we should probably give in. We don’t stand a chance if the whole world is conspiring.”

  “Sweetheart, I didn’t stand a chance from the moment I looked at you.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Hudson

  The last week had been grueling.

  Though yesterday morning had been the worst. I was due to get my DNA results at 9AM, but the lab was running late. Stella had stuck around to be with me when I found out, but she’d had a lunch meeting with a vendor she couldn’t miss. Which had turned out to be for the best, because I cried like a damn baby when they finally called around noon and confirmed that my little girl…wasn’t actually mine.

  By the time Stella came over in the evening, I was numb—and piss drunk. I’d passed out by nine o’clock, which was probably why I’d been awake since 3AM now, staring up at the ceiling.

  How the hell was I going to look into Charlie’s eyes knowing she wasn’t mine? I’d feel like a fucking fraud lying to her. She was only six, but I was always honest with her. I wanted her to trust my word, like I had my father’s. And now that was all ruined. I kept thinking about a conversation we’d had a few months ago. She’d told me she hadn’t broken the handle off of a kitchen cabinet—one I’d often caught her using as a step stool to reach the counter.

  Because of the way the screw was bent, I knew she’d been lying to me. So I sat her down and explained that no matter how bad a situation was, lying about it was always worse than whatever you were trying to cover up. That night, she’d come to me with the truth and told me her stomach hurt. I was pretty sure guilt had twisted her little belly into a knot. I was about to have a gaping ulcer from the lie I would be covering up.

  About 6AM the sun started to stream in through the bedroom window. A ray of sunlight cut a thin line across Stella’s beautiful face, and I turned on my side to watch her sleep. She looked so peaceful, which gave me some comfort since I knew the last few weeks had been as stressful for her as they had for me. I couldn’t imagine how she’d felt the moment she put the crazy puzzle together. It must’ve been a lot like I felt right now, as if the bottom had dropped out of my world, and I no longer had footing to stand on.

  As if she sensed me watching her, her eyes fluttered open.

  “What are you doing?” she asked groggily.

  “Enjoying the view. Go back to sleep.”

  Her lips curved in a sleepy smile. “How long have you been up?”

  “Not too long.”

  She grinned. “Hours then, huh?”

  I chuckled. The difficulty with soul mates was that when you shared a bond unlike anything you’d experienced with another human, they were pretty good at calling bullshit when you tried to hide your heartache.

  I brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this last week.”

  “Without me, you wouldn’t have had the worst week of your life.”

  I shook my head. “It would’ve come out someday. You can run from lies, but the truth always catches up to you.”

  She sighed. “I guess.”

  “I think I’ve decided how I’m going to handle things with my ex-wife.”

  “You have?”

  I nodded. “I think it’s best that I continue not to say anything to Lexi.”

  “Oh…wow. Okay. How did you come to that decision?”

  “The most important thing is that Charlie not be hurt. I’m the only father she’s ever known, and right now she’s too young to deal with finding out everything in her life is a lie. She needs stability, routine, and predictability—not for me to upend things just to ruin my ex-wife. Lexi wants child support and alimony from me. Jack does well these days, but he can’t afford the cushy life I foot the bill for—trust me. So I think it’s best she thinks she’s keeping some big secret. If she knew I knew, she’d feel financially threatened, and I wouldn’t put it past her to be spiteful and tell a six-year-old her father isn’t really her father.”

  I rubbed Stella’s arm. “I texted Jack earlier to let him know, because it felt like the right thing to do. He said biology doesn’t make a family and she’s mine. He doesn’t sound interested in trying to push into Charlie’s life. I despise the guy, but he’s right. Charlie’s my daughter, no matter what the biology says. Not having my DNA doesn’t change that. Someday when she’s older and ready…” I started to get choked up. “I’ll tell her she’s not mine.”

  Stella smiled sadly. �
�I think that makes a lot of sense. Though I can’t imagine it will be easy for you to deal with your ex-wife, knowing what you know.”

  I shook my head. “Definitely not. But it’s fine. I’ll do whatever is best for my daughter…for Charlie.”

  Stella reached out and cupped my cheek. “Don’t correct yourself when you say my daughter. You are Charlie’s parent. Because a parent is someone who puts the child’s needs before their own, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only one of the three adults in this equation who has always done that.”

  I nodded.

  Stella stroked my arm quietly for a few minutes. We laid on our sides facing each other, and my hand rested on the bed between us. Though when she attempted to weave her fingers with mine, I realized my hand hadn’t actually been resting on the bed. It was balled into a fist.

  She pried my fingers loose. “You’re so tense.”

  “Yeah. I should probably go for a run to burn off some of the tension.”

  “Do you have to be anywhere today or do anything?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not planning on going to the office for my usual half day on Saturday.”

  She lifted my hand and brought it to her lips. “You know, I can think of a much more pleasant way for you to burn off some steam than pounding the pavement.”

  Even with a sleepless night and the conversation we’d just had, the feel of Stella’s lips on my hand and the mention of pounding already had my mood changing for the better. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

  She gently nudged me to roll to my back and climbed on top of me. Straddling my hips, she lifted the T-shirt she’d worn to bed up and over her head. Her full breasts had the best natural lilt. When I sat up to reach for them, Stella held up her pointer finger and wagged it back and forth. “Nope. This is your stress relief. Just lie back and let me do all the work.”

  I folded my arms behind my head, assuming she meant she was going to be on top. But instead, she shimmied back and sat on my thighs. Her little hand pulled my cock out of my sweatpants, and her fingers wrapped tightly around it. She gave it a firm squeeze and licked her lips, then bent at the waist and slid her tongue across my crown.