I leaned against the desk, my hands gripping the edging. “Did he tell you who was taking your place?”
“He hinted. We both know it’s you.” He leveled his stare at me. “Come on, we knew it was coming the minute you started seeing him.”
“No, I didn’t know it was coming. I really didn’t.” My relationship with Hudson had been complicated from the beginning, surprising at every turn. Still, in my wildest dreams, I had never imagined his intention was to put the club in my hands. I would have been far less shocked if he’d wanted me stowed away in his penthouse, barefoot and pregnant. And that was a pretty shocking idea in itself.
“I’m not saying it’s unwarranted. You deserve to run the club. Truly.”
David’s sincerity was touching. It also made me all the more pissed at Hudson. Even though David was happy about the promotion, even though it probably was for the best that he moved on elsewhere, away from me—it still wasn’t right how the situation had been handled. I’d been lied to and misled.
I had to go confront him. I straightened, tugging my dress into place. “Hey, I just remembered that I need to stop and pick up the new sample menu design.”
“I thought Graphic Front was emailing it.”
My mind was so unsettled I couldn’t get my excuses right. “They are. I mean, they did.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I want to see it printed. Feel the weight and all that. Anyway, I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
David smiled. “I’m really not the one you report to anymore.”
I looked away, hiding my wince.
“Hug it out?”
This time I didn’t decline. I stepped into his embrace, finding it warmer than I remembered. “Thank you, David. For everything.” I buried my head in his shoulder. I wasn’t going to cry—I was too mad for that—but I did feel a burst of affection.
I stepped back before he took it the wrong way, before I got swept away with the need to be comforted. “And congratulations. I’m glad things are working out for you.”
I texted Jordan to pick me up. Then I grabbed my bag and pulled all my rage and heartache inside myself, holding the emotions in the pit of my stomach. Saving them for Hudson.
Chapter Eighteen
When I stepped out of the elevator at Pierce Industries, I didn’t even stop to check in with Trish, Hudson’s secretary, before I rushed into his office.
“Ms. Withers!” Trish followed after me.
Hudson sat behind his sleek black desk, the phone cradled between his cheek and his shoulder with his fingers perched on his keyboard. He glanced first at me then behind me at Trish. “Hold on a moment, Landon,” he said into the receiver.
He pushed the hold button. “It’s okay, Patricia.”
I didn’t wait for the click of the door to shut behind Trish as she left. “Finish your phone call and meet me in the loft.” I was heading for the elevator at the back of the office. “And so you know, we’re gonna fight.”
The private elevator went to Hudson’s loft—the bachelor pad where he and I had spent many of our first sexual encounters. I hadn’t been back there since he’d invited me to the penthouse, and while I would have expected a rush of nostalgia, I felt nothing but betrayal and rage.
In the loft, I only had time to throw my bag on the couch before the elevator returned with Hudson. He stepped into the loft, located me pacing, and took a seat in an armchair, his attention completely focused on me.
I’d composed a hundred different things to say to him on the way to his office, but now that I was in front of him, my anger had me tongue-tied.
But Hudson was as calm and cool as ever. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you until we got back from Japan.”
He. Hudson wouldn’t even say David’s name. At least he wasn’t pretending he didn’t know what I was pissed about.
It didn’t make me any calmer. “Lucky for me, he’s a good friend. Also, I never agreed to go to Japan.”
“Touché.”
“What the fuck, Hudson?” My emotions were boiling inside of me, threatening to explode.
He crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee. “I offered David an opportunity, and he took it.”
“You agreed we could discuss it further.”
“I agreed we could discuss the future management of The Sky Launch further, and we certainly will.”
He was so even, so in control—it only fueled my rage. “This was part of that!”
“You should have been more specific.” He didn’t even blink.
God, I wanted to throw something—anything. Instead I threw my words at him. “You knew what I meant. You knew how I felt and you went ahead and ignored everything I said. I thought you cared about me, but you obviously don’t, because that’s not how you treat someone that you’re in a relationship with.”
He put his leg on the floor and leaned forward, finally animated. “Yes, I did know how you felt. And you knew how I felt. You wanted me not to fire him, I wanted him gone. Offering him a job elsewhere—a promotion, mind you at my biggest club in the country—was, I thought, a pretty damn good compromise.”
There was logic to his words, and his offer had certainly made David happy. But that didn’t change that Hudson had made the offer without my knowledge, behind my back. “Compromises are supposed to involve both parties. You alone can’t arbitrarily decide what the compromise is.”
“I didn’t, really.” He leaned back again, resuming his composed exterior. “David did when he accepted the job. I had no idea that he’d agree when I asked him, and if he hadn’t, then I would have come back to you to find a suitable solution to our problem.”
“You should have talked to me before you even offered the job to him!”
“I took the opportunity when I saw it. You weren’t around to confer with.”
“Don’t even pretend you didn’t go to David today with every intention of making him that offer.” Hudson’s giddy mood that morning, his need to understand my change of heart the night before—he was feeling out the situation. I could see it clearly now. “I can’t believe you don’t see why this isn’t okay!”
I was yelling. I wished I wasn’t, wished I could be as controlled as he was. It definitely had a chilling effect. But that wasn’t me, I was emotional and riled up and all the turmoil I had inside was spewing all over the loft.
Hudson stood and stepped toward me, one brow raised. “Are you upset because you assume I want you to take David’s place?”
It was part of it, yes, but so much more than that. I turned my back to him, not knowing how to answer.
“I do want you to, of course, and I have full confidence that you would do an excellent job. But if you are unwilling, then I hope you will be instrumental in deciding who will take his place instead.” His hand settled on the nape of my neck.
I spun toward him, hitting his hand away. “Dammit, Hudson. I don’t want anyone to take his place. I want to work with David. David Lindt, that’s all.”
“You’re defending him with the passion of a lover, Alayna. You’re making it hard for me to believe there really is nothing between you.”
This new insult was the lowest. It stung so badly I went numb, no longer able to feel anything but cold, cold, cold.
“This is so manipulative, Hudson.” My voice was strained, but low and quiet. “Everything you’ve done and said to me today is a total mind game. I thought you were done with that. I don’t even know how to react. Which is probably exactly what you were going for, so guess what—mission fucking accomplished.”
He advanced toward me. “It is not fair for you to throw my past behaviors in my face every time you disagree with my actions. I am in no way trying to manipulate you to do or feel anything. I’m merely staying committed to my plan—to you, Alayna. Everything I’ve done has been to protect our relationship and our future. Th
at is all.”
“Really? Because right now the future of our relationship feels pretty vulnerable, if you ask me.” It was downright cold—as cold as I felt at the moment, but even seeing his face fall as if I’d struck him, I didn’t wish I could take it back. I only wished it not to be true.
He reached for me again, but I sidestepped him, putting my hands out in front of me as a barrier. “Don’t even come near me. You try to solve all our problems with sex, and this time is not going to be one of them.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I do not try to solve our problems with sex. I simply recognize that when we’re fighting, the physical connection puts us back in tune with each other.”
“You mean it makes me easier to manage.” He opened his mouth—to protest, most likely—but I spoke on before he could say anything. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have to go.”
I nabbed my bag off the sofa and headed to the main door. He tried to catch me as I walked past him, but I slipped from his grasp.
He didn’t try again. “Alayna, do not leave things like this.”
“Right now the last thing I want to hear is you telling me what to do.”
“Alayna, please—” The ache, the pleading in his voice—it wrecked me.
But I needed time.
I paused, my hand on the doorknob, not looking at him. If I looked at him, I was afraid I’d fall into his arms. I needed to be in a place where I could think clearly. And his arms was not that place. “I’ll be at the penthouse later. That’s all I can give you. Right now, I need some space.”
The ball in his throat was so tight, I heard him swallow. “Fair enough.”
Then I was gone.
***
I knew before the elevator doors closed that I wanted to talk to Celia. I’d been blindsided, Hudson’s behavior baffling me so completely, twisting me in knots. I didn’t have the experience with him to sort it out. I desperately needed insight.
She didn’t answer on her first ring so I did the hang-up and return call thing several times. In the midst of my fourth redial, my phone buzzed.
“Did you get my text? I’ll be at the Waldorf this afternoon. Need to see you.”
Goddamn Brian. I hadn’t responded to his earlier message. How fitting was it that I had to deal with him today of all days?
“Text me when you’re in. I’ll come by.”
I pushed Send then tried Celia again. This time she answered right away. “Hey, it’s Laynie. Are you busy?”
“Uh, sort of. What’s up?”
“I, um, need to talk.” My voice cracked.
“Oh, no! What’s wrong? You sound like you’ve been crying.”
I hadn’t been crying—I was crying. “I’d rather talk in person. Are you free to meet up?”
The elevator doors opened in the lobby of Pierce Industries. Dammit. Now I was surrounded by people. I hid my hair over my face, wishing I had my sunglasses, and hurried to the main doors.
“I could do later. Like, this afternoon. Would that work?”
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t comprehend the next fifteen minutes, let alone hours ahead of now. “Let me think. I have to see my brother. Sometime this afternoon. Even though I don’t want to. I don’t know.” I was repeating myself, my mind a fog.
I stepped out onto the street and walked until the glass doors turned into wall. I slumped against the brick. “I’m not really able to make any decisions right now.”
“Okay, I get it. You’re upset.” Celia seemed distracted as she spoke. “You said your brother’s in town? Brian? Is he staying with you at the penthouse?”
“God, no. The Waldorf. It’s Brian’s favorite place in the world.”
“I’m doing a design install in the foyer at Fit Nation on Fifty-First. There’s a coffee shop next door. How about we meet there around two? You’ll be close to the Waldorf, as well.”
Even though it was hours away, I felt better. Not great, but better. “Perfect. Thank you, Celia.”
“Anytime.”
I glanced at the digital clock before pocketing my phone. It was a little after nine. It felt like I’d packed a whole day into a short morning. Whatever I would do for the next few hours was beyond me.
“Ms. Withers?”
I looked up to find Jordan standing at the curb with the Maybach.
“Mr. Pierce suggested I drive you somewhere. To the penthouse or the club, perhaps?”
That was Hudson. Always looking out for me, even when I wanted nothing of the sort. It was actually a relief to have Jordan there. I’d been so muddled that I hadn’t thought to text him for a ride.
With a reluctant gratefulness, I climbed into the back seat. “I don’t want to be at the penthouse. The club, I suppose.”
I spent the rest of the morning shuffling papers around in the office and staring at the blinking cursor on my laptop. I couldn’t seem to get my mind to concentrate on anything. In the past when I felt stressed and unsettled, I resorted to old habits, fell into obsessive behaviors. Those patterns calmed and relaxed me with their compulsive nature. But instead of feeling the need to act, I felt the need to shut down—curl up in a ball and sleep until I felt nothing.
Fuck, I was screwed up. Still. I’d felt cured with Hudson, but I still didn’t know how to handle emotions. I didn’t know what normal people did when they hurt. I regretted missing my group session the day before. I needed it now.
Or at least I needed Lauren—my favorite group leader.
In the evenings, Lauren volunteered to lead Addicts Anonymous and some other groups at a Unitarian church nearby. I’d attended faithfully for years, only recently slipping into a part-time goer. But I hadn’t found Lauren at Addicts Anonymous. I’d originally met her at Stanton Addiction Center, a rehab facility where she worked as a counselor during the day. I’d been a patient for a short time after I’d violated my restraining order with Paul. Brian, decent lawyer that he was, had been able to negotiate that instead of jail time.
It was a quarter to noon. If I hurried, I could probably catch her on her lunch break.
I texted Jordan and within twenty minutes I’d made it to the center.
I checked in at the front desk and got a pass to the staff wing. After finding Lauren’s office dark, I went to the lunchroom for employees and spotted her with a group of orderlies laughing around the pop vending machine.
“Hey, girl.” She stepped away from her friends when she saw me to give me a hug. “I was disappointed when I didn’t see you yesterday at group.”
I smiled tensely, eager to get her alone. “Sorry about that. Stuff came up.”
“The fact that you sought me out here leads me to believe that it wasn’t good stuff.”
“Some of it was. Very good stuff. And some of it definitely not good stuff.” I glanced toward an empty table in the back of the room. “Do you have time to talk?”
She held up the brown paper bag she’d been clutching. “As long as you don’t mind me chowing down while you do.”
“Chow away.”
I didn’t talk until we were seated at the table. Then, I filled Lauren in on the highlights of the past week—the shift in my relationship with Hudson, moving into the penthouse, seeing Paul again, the secrets I’d kept, and finally, what Hudson had done regarding David. I was quick about it, knowing that Lauren’s lunch was only an hour. When I was done, I felt worn out, like I’d been throwing up for the last thirty-five minutes.
Lauren took a napkin and wiped her mouth, her lunch long finished now. “Well, that’s quite a week of events. What have you learned by saying all of that out loud?”
This was one of her favorite therapy techniques—turning a venting session into an opportunity for self-examination. “I don’t know.” I was out of practice at this. I took a deep breath and thought a moment. “I see my culpability in Hudso
n’s betrayal. I kept secrets from him first.” It was difficult to admit, but crucial. How could I expect him to think that being honest and upfront was a must for me? I certainly hadn’t demonstrated the same to him.
“Very good. What else?”
God, wasn’t that one enough? I searched for more. “I’ve realized I don’t know how to handle my feelings. I used to cling and obsess when I felt off. What am I supposed to do instead?”
“Exactly what you’re doing. You deal with them constructively.” Lauren sat forward, her hands clasped on the table in front of her. “Listen, honey, being healthy doesn’t mean you don’t feel things anymore. You will always feel things—good and bad, depending on the day, depending on the minute. That’s called life. Being healthy is talking your emotions out, writing them down, realizing that you don’t have to do anything to change them. Sometimes you just have to ride them out.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“Doesn’t it?” She sat back in her chair. “There’s something else I want to point out that I don’t know if you’re seeing.”
Lauren usually avoided highlighting issues that her clients hadn’t stumbled onto themselves. She believed that if someone couldn’t yet see the forest, then they weren’t ready to deal with it. If she was pointing it out to me, it had to be vital. I wrung my hands in my lap. “What’s that?”
“Hudson—I don’t know him personally, but his behavior sounds familiar.”
For a minute I wondered if she’d encountered him at some point in therapy of his own. I knew barely anything about his treatment programs. I guessed it was possible.
But then I realized what Lauren was getting at. I felt the blood rush from my face. “You mean, he sounds like me. Like me in the past.”
“Jealous, manipulative, deceitful.” She ticked them off on her fingers, one horrible adjective per digit.
Hearing the words on her lips made my gut clench. “He’s really not like that. You’re making him sound worse than he is.” Reducing Hudson to such vile behavior was wrong. He was so much more.
Found in You Page 23
