His eyes sparkled as he spoke. Hudson not only remembered their plans, but it sounded as if he had been following through on them. The realization brought a pang to her heart. And then she remembered Arena Corp and the way Hudson cast her and Jeff aside. She was not ready to nominate him for sainthood yet.
She nodded. “Since I’ve commandeered your home, where will you stay tonight?”
“I have hotel interests in the area. They’ll find a room for me or a utility closet somewhere.”
An image of Hudson in a broom closet came to her, and in an effort to suppress her laughter, Olivia ended up snorting, which caused them both to laugh out loud.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“To laugh?”
His index finger stabbed the air, a token from a shared memory, their first real taste of the human cost of war. They had received news of the death of a college friend whose National Guard unit was attacked in Fallujah. For days, they didn’t know how to appropriately distance themselves from their grief until one night when they were watching a movie with a scene that made them laugh. As if on cue, they stopped and stared at each other, each fearing they had sinned by feeling happy again. Liv started to cry, saying, “We’re already forgetting him.” Hudson’s reply had changed everything. “No. We’re just poking a hole in the sadness.”
Liv poked her own hole in the air.
“Jeff would want you to be happy again. Anyone who loves someone would wish that for them.”
A hidden message seemed included in his comment, but she was too weary and pained to sort it out or argue. “I hope you and I can find our way back to being friends again.”
“I’m still here, just like before.”
Again, a thousand unpursued meanings floated on that simple sentence. They each seemed to move back into their respective corners as they stared out at the sea, watching the gulls dive and sky-dance. She shifted in the chair in response to the increasing pain in her leg.
A look of panic overtook Hudson as he glanced at his watch. “I’m an idiot. You’re an hour late for your meds.”
He leapt to his feet and rolled her inside to give her the appropriate pills, with Laurel reading from the sheets.
“We need a chart to track your meds schedule,” he said, as he pulled out his laptop and started typing. “I’ve contacted an online agency to hire a night nurse.”
Olivia could feel him detaching, preparing the terms for his withdrawal. As conflicted as she was about him and his role in Jeff’s downward spiral, he was also familiar, and somehow she felt safe with him. Once he left, her entire world would be reduced to one person, Laurel, a woman with whom she had spent less than ten total hours.
“Mr. Bauer,” chimed Laurel, “Ben has to work late, and I promised my mother we’d pick Joey up by six. I can get him and come back if you can cover things here for an hour.”
Hudson’s voice softened again. “No, just go. You’ve been great. I’ll wait for the nurse. And Laurel? Just call me Hudson, okay?”
She smiled shyly and nodded. “I’ll work on that.” She gave an apologetic shrug. “Olivia, I’ll be back first thing in the morning before the nurse leaves. See you then.”
The bang of the door echoed in the silence that hung in the room.
Hudson pushed back from the table and moved to the open kitchen area. “You’re probably thirsty … or hungry.” He opened and closed cupboards and the fridge door as he rambled off suggestions. “What can I get you? You always liked salad. And I have sandwich fixings. Or soup? We’ve got several kinds here—” He stopped and shook his head. “My menu is about eight years too old. Why don’t you tell me what you like now?”
The choices overwhelmed her. For so long, with their tight budget in mind, she shopped for what Jeff liked, adopting his preferences over hers. She didn’t know what she preferred anymore, and that realization unnerved her. “I’m not hungry.”
He closed the fridge door. “You’re probably tired. Would you like to rest?”
She felt pushed. Another man was “managing her.” “Thank you, but I don’t need you to wait on me. What I would like is a way to repay you for your help. There must be something I can help with. I would like a chance to work.”
His face twisted in absurdity as he studied her braces and wraps.
“If I’m well enough to sit at a table, I’m well enough to use a computer. I’m quite good at programming and design, if you recall.”
She hoped he caught her reminder that she was the one who brought his vision to life years ago. To her amazement, Hudson turned the memory back on her.
“Oh, yes. I remember.” His response came in a slow, dramatic cadence. His eyes focused on an undetermined spot in the air, as if his thoughts were entirely somewhere else. Moments passed, and then his gaze drifted to her face. “I remember everything.”
He turned to the sink and filled a glass, draining it with pained slowness, as if his thirst was merely a way to delay answering her request.
Calm had returned to his face by the time he turned back around. “All right. I’ll bring a new phone and laptop for you tomorrow. If you’re having a good day, we’ll talk about work. I actually need to step outside and return some calls, so you’re welcome to use my computer to contact people. Folks must be worried about you.” He turned for the door then stopped. “You’ll need passwords. The Wi-Fi password is my mom’s name and my birthday—joan4386. My computer password should be familiar. It’s KwanjaiThai4u. Use the numeral four and a small-case letter u.” He exited and closed the door.
The password released a flood of memories that washed over Olivia. Food from the Kwanjai Thai restaurant fueled their brainstorming sessions while she and Hudson hammered out the details for the sports program. Whichever one of them picked up the food also delivered it, along with the “Kwanjai Thai for you” line spoken in a horrible Asian accent. The idea that he had hung on to that corny saying both touched and dismayed her.
Fatigue pounded her. Adding to her distress was something else Hudson had said. Folks must be worried about you … The error of that statement hollowed her. She and Jeff had mastered evasion to the point that she couldn’t think of one person who would notice her silence for weeks. Her isolation was too much to face tonight. Gratefully, the doorbell rang; the night nurse Hudson hired had arrived.
Hudson strode in from the deck and let portly, middle-aged Nurse Maggie in. After exchanging pleasantries with her new patient, the conversation shifted right into business—charts and medical questions.
“I gave Liv her pain meds about an hour ago.”
“Yes. I saw that in her chart.”
“I can fill you in on her discharge instructions if you’d like.”
“Is my patient impaired and unable to speak for herself?”
A flush of red rolled up from his neck to his cheeks. “N-n-no, ma’am. She’s perfectly capable. I just thought—”
“Yes?”
“I suppose I’m leaving now.” He nodded in Olivia’s direction. “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow. Rest well.” And then he was gone.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, Hudson realized he had been railroaded by a WWF-worthy opponent disguised as a nurse. He smiled and shook his head. Moments like these reminded him how unimportant he really was in the total scheme of things.
The humor was momentary, gone even before he reached his Range Rover. He sat on the leather seats and stared at the house, just now noticing how shallowly he had been breathing, as if holding his breath in Liv’s presence had become his new normal.
First loves … Everything the lyricists said about their effect on a man was true. He felt like a wide-eyed dreamer in her presence. There were so many similarities to their college days. Once again she was alone, a stranger without a home. He wanted to shelter her, protect her. But that didn’t appear to be what Liv wanted from him. She was an unknown now. Not just because she was widowed, hurt, and confused, but because of how she had left him in the first place an
d how she and Jeff had conducted their lives in the interim. Hudson wanted to believe that Jeff was the wizard behind the McAllister Marketing façade. He had a history of sabotage—bailing out on the first critical client presentation they had spent months setting up and then stealing the woman his supposed best friend Hudson had confessed to loving. But as unforgivable as Jeff was for his part, Liv had said yes to his instantaneous proposal, and she left without a word.
Maybe Hudson never really knew her at all …
He had built an impressive empire around helping people, but that required insulating himself from opportunists and frauds, almost never appearing socially and then, only in the company of his few trusted associates. He had met his share of false friends and conspiring women. He hated to admit that those experiences had left him mistrustful and solitary. Those unflattering characteristics could likely be about protecting the Bauer name, but they had also left him lonely and with a narrow circle of trust. And now there was Liv.
He reminded himself that he had come to her. She had not asked for him and in truth, made her dislike of him quite clear. So why was he hanging around?
An examination of the situation revealed that Hudson’s pride was at the core. He would not be her crutch, but he needed to know a few things. Why had she set aside all they had been together, all he hoped to build with her, for a man who barely regarded her before asking for her hand? Had his judgment about Liv really been that flawed? That was the question that truly gnawed at him; a man who lived life more by his gut than by his balance sheet. And the bigger question pressing on him was, could he trust his instincts now?
Chapter Six
Maggie, the night nurse, was efficient, professional, impersonal, and in charge. Olivia’s meds were administered, her wounds checked, and she was readied for bed in half an hour. There would be no dawdling on Drill Sergeant Maggie’s watch.
The morning also ran on an efficient schedule, with breakfast and morning meds at seven followed by bathing and dressing. With Nurse Maggie’s encouragement and watchful eye, Olivia performed as many of the tasks as possible by herself.
As soon as the switchboards opened, schedules were set for physical and occupational therapy, but Olivia balked when Sarge tried to schedule recommended counseling.
The barrel-chested nurse softened for a moment. “You’ve lost a child and a husband, Mrs. McAllister. I know the pain of widowhood. I cannot imagine facing both. Please. Think about it.”
A softball-sized lump formed in Olivia’s throat at the mention of her losses. She knew she was compartmentalizing her grief, boxing it up to be faced another day after her body was healed. Perhaps that avoidance was why the idea of speaking to a counselor terrified her. She nodded her agreement to consider Nurse Maggie’s request just to avoid the subject a while longer.
Instead, she chose to tackle what she could manage—work. After daring to check her personal email, which was devoid of anything personal, she opened the MMM email account and felt a sweep of pressure as unmet deadlines and printers’ bills bombarded her.
She had designed this quarter’s coupon, but Jeff handled the receipts, and he hadn’t arranged for distribution before the accident. Their small business clients were depending on the revenue the ads would generate. The responsibility was now hers alone, and it was crushing.
Nurse Maggie rushed over and closed the laptop. “It’s too soon for you to be working.”
“I need to save my company.”
“You need to rest that arm.” She set a bowl of fruit before her. “Eat. Heal.”
Laurel arrived and overheard the discussion. Her eyes widened as the night nurse reported on Olivia’s condition and needs for the day.
Once the door shut, Laurel said, “Whoa … she’s intense.”
“You have no idea.” Olivia laughed and then sobered as she remembered Maggie’s earlier counsel. “She pushes me. I think I need that.”
“Then we’ll follow her instructions. You look much better today, by the way. Cute outfit too, but then again, you’re gorgeous even when your face is purple and green.”
“Yeah, right,” said Olivia, as she twisted her long dark hair for comfort. She hadn’t paid much attention to the navy-and-white striped tee and white knit slacks Maggie found in one of the bedroom drawers, but after examining them more closely, she recognized the quality of the fabric and noticed how they were designed to glide easily over her brace and bandages. She fingered the edge of the wide hem. “Hudson thought of everything.”
“You must be very important to him,” Laurel said quietly.
The comment rankled Olivia. “Hudson? Why do you say that?”
Laurel gave Olivia a sideways glance, noting her ingratitude.
“I mean …yes … it’s incredibly generous of him to buy me clothes and let me live here.”
“Well … yeah … especially considering that he personally packed and moved his own things into the utility room so you could have the master suite. But I was talking about how he stocked the house with your favorite foods and flowers. And you should have seen his worry when he read the notes about your injuries.” Laurel flopped into a coral-colored overstuffed chair. “Ben forgets I have an egg allergy and nearly kills me with mayo every time he makes me a sandwich. He always apologizes and says he had other things on his mind, but I’m not sure that excuse is going to fly anymore. Consider what Hudson Bauer has on his mind, with his companies and charities and travels, but he still remembered all your favorites.”
The breadth of his kindness suffocated Olivia. She had tried to compartmentalize each gift and service because the scope of his caring was more than she could bear. Yes, she needed some help, but the totality of his gifts was akin to placing a starving man before a gourmet meal. It was, in short, too much.
“I’d like to lie down for a while,” she told Laurel, who rushed over to help. “And could you bring me that laptop also?”
Once she was set up in the bed with pillows propping her into a comfortable position, she went to work on MMM business. Within an hour her stress levels skyrocketed, and she closed her files, finding something on Hudson’s desktop that intrigued her enough to compel her to snoop. The file name? Atmit Co-op. The link opened to a spreadsheet of universities and businesses partnering in the production and distribution of Atmit to refugee camps and villages across the globe. Links led to distribution schedules, reports of successes, and even a few letters from grateful tribal leaders.
She remembered a conversation the threesome had while sitting at a burger joint during their senior year. The topic was their Doer Campaign, but first, they had needed capital.
Everything hinged on getting a few Division One coaches to beta test their Arena Corp program so Hudson could accumulate data and she could tweak out the bugs before putting the software on the market. Jeff squawked when he heard they’d be giving their work away for months, perhaps years. It was then that Hudson expressed his definition of success.
He referenced an article about starving children in Ethiopia. Their bodies had degraded to the point that they could no longer digest most foods, but they could bear, and even thrive on a life-sustaining gruel called Atmit. The basic recipe was ancient—oat flour, powdered milk, sugar, salt—and with a supplement of vitamins and minerals, children near death could be revived and saved.
And the cost to feed a child for an entire month? Hudson had held up his double-stacked burger and shake. It was the cost of his meal. Six dollars. He said he would feel like a success if their program just made enough to save some children at six dollars a month.
Olivia felt like those children. Love starved, unable to receive more than the kindness equivalent of Atmit. But how could she tell Hudson that? Especially when she’d hired an attorney mere weeks ago to sue him for half of his company?
Her nausea returned.
Hudson had done it. He had followed through on his dream. He was a Doer. What had happened to her? She wondered if it was too late to find herself again.
Three hours had passed when Olivia awoke. She texted Laurel, who came in moments, stretching and yawning, an embarrassed grin on her sun-kissed face.
“I feel a bit guilty about getting paid to nap on a porch overlooking the Pacific Ocean.”
“Join the club.”
Laurel readjusted the hair clips holding her brown curls away from her face. “We should do something nice for Hudson.”
“What does one do to thank a billionaire?”
“I wonder how often he gets to eat a home-cooked meal. No man can resist good food with friends.”
Memories of shared meals flashed across Olivia’s mind. “His favorite meal is barbecued ribs and corn on the cob. His mom had her own recipe for a sweet and spicy rub.”
Laurel’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Ben is a grilling master. He’ll be our cook.”
“Do you think he’d help us?”
“Help prepare a thank-you dinner for the high school billionaire friend who’s paying me enough money to make double payments on Ben’s truck? Uh, yeah! He’ll tell the tale for years.”
Olivia laughed. She outright laughed, enjoying the stability of making a plan. Of having something to look forward to. Of having friends again. “We’ll have to see how long Hudson will be in town.”
Laurel nodded. “Okay.”
The doorbell rang, and Laurel got up to answer it and Olivia followed in her wheelchair. “It’s a delivery,” she called back to Olivia. “A big box!”
The women watched the delivery man uncrate the item, revealing a strange-looking motorized wheelchair with wide rubber wheels.
“It’s for the beach,” said the delivery guy. He looked at Olivia in her current chair. “I assume it’s for you.”
“Wow,” squealed Laurel. “Hudson thought of everything!”
After a brief demo, the man drove the unit to the back porch and parked it. Then he had Olivia sign the delivery slip before he stepped into his truck and drove away.
A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET Page 38