Complete Fixed: The Complete Fixed Series: Books 1-5

by Laurelin Paige

  But I couldn’t ask Jordan those questions. So instead I asked, “What do you think about Hudson?”

  “Me?” Jordan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, he’s a good boss. Very clear with his expectations. He demands a lot but the benefits are proportional.”

  That was nice to know—that he was a decent employer. But it wasn’t what I was looking for. “I mean as a person.”

  Jordan laughed. “I don’t know him as anything but a business man.” He glanced at me. “You may be one of the only people I’ve ever met who knows him as just a man.”

  “I doubt that.” Not only because I didn’t know him but because I suspected Hudson didn’t let anyone know him.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  I wanted to continue the conversation, but we’d arrived at Lincoln Center. It felt strange to arrive by myself, but Jordan directed me to Avery Fisher Hall and gave me all the information I needed. “Tonight is a donor’s event. So there’s a light buffet in the lobby. Mr. Pierce insisted you enjoy yourself.”

  I smiled as I pictured Hudson giving the orders to Jordan. Had it been by phone? By text? Either way, I recognized that a great deal of care had gone into the evening. “Do you know when he’ll be here?”

  Jordan shook his head. “A late meeting of the day delayed his take-off. But he assures he’ll arrive as soon as he can.” He paused before stepping back behind the driver seat. “Ms. Withers? If I may say, you look quite lovely.”

  I blushed as I thanked him, but his compliment gave me the courage to make my way into the hall by myself. Finely dressed patrons crowded in with me, the richest in the city, the people who had money to donate to such trivial things as the arts. I’d always been into nice clothes, but had never cared about designer names until that moment when the only thing camouflaging me in the sea of expensive clothes was my own designer gown. I was out of my element. I needed a cocktail.

  As Jordan had said, buffet tables lined the lobby and caterers wandered around with trays filled with delicious appetizers and glasses of champagne. I wasn’t very hungry, but I grabbed a crab puff as it passed so I’d have something in my stomach when I drank the champagne that I acquired soon after. I spent the next forty-five minutes nursing my drink and nibbling on veggies, my eyes pinned on the front doors searching for my date.

  When the crowd thinned, I reluctantly made my way to the seat listed on my ticket. Box seats, of course. My spirits perked up as I noticed patrons entering the box ahead of me. Perhaps Hudson had managed to sneak past me.

  But when the usher showed me to my seat, I found the seats on either side of mine empty. Three other seats in our box were taken by a middle-aged couple and a woman my age—a woman I knew. It was Celia.

  “Laynie!” Celia said as she sat down. “I’m so glad you came. Where’s that handsome man of yours?” Her voice wasn’t exactly quiet, and I realized she wanted her companions to hear.

  My chest constricted. Definitely not a date, then.

  “I wouldn’t have missed tonight. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” I did my best to pretend I knew that Celia would be there as she had seemed to know I would be in attendance. “Hudson’s late flying in. He’s been out-of-town most of this week.” I’ll admit I hoped the mention of him being out of town would be news to Celia. I felt I needed the upper hand somehow and knowing things about my supposed love that Celia didn’t was the only trick I could play.

  “Oh, yes. He told me he was leaving again when I talked to him yesterday.” So much for insider knowledge. “Let me introduce you to my parents, Warren and Madge Werner. This is Alayna Withers, Hudson’s girlfriend.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Werner exchanged glances before they leaned over their seats to shake my hand.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Madge said. “Sophia has told me so much about you.”

  Huh, yeah. Whatever Sophia Pierce had to say to her best friend about me couldn’t be anything I’d want to know. My stomach knotted at the thought. Where the hell was Hudson? How could he leave me alone with these people?

  “Sophia’s a delight,” I said with as much pleasantry as I could muster. It actually wasn’t hard to smile as I said it, as if I had told a private joke about Hudson’s monster of a mother.

  “Isn’t she?” Celia muttered so only I could hear.

  Her dig made me feel more comfortable.

  Until Madge started to grill me. “Where did you meet Hudson again?”

  I repeated the story, embellishing as many romantic moments as I could without going too far overboard, all the while checking over my shoulder, wishing Hudson would appear.

  “Withers,” Warren said when there was a lull. “Any relation to Joel and Patty?”

  “No, sorry.” If he was trying to discover the depths of my breeding, I’m afraid he was going to be sorely disappointed.

  Relief flooded over me when the lights lowered, ending our conversation. Simultaneously, my resentment toward Hudson grew. I quickly shot him a text, something I should have done an hour earlier. “Where are you?”

  The response to my text came as a whisper in my ear as the conductor walked on stage and the audience began clapping. “Right beside you.”

  Chills spread through my body and I looked up to see Hudson had slipped into the seat next to me. He was there. Even in the dim theater, I knew he looked gorgeous, wearing a classic tuxedo. His hair was mussed as if he’d dressed quickly, and his face scruffy, increasing the sexy factor.

  He nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Werner then took my hand.

  His hand in mine—the warmth of it, the strength—it didn’t matter if it was for show, I had needed it, and I clung to it until intermission, only letting go so we could applaud.

  While the audience was still clapping, he leaned toward me. “What did you think?”

  “I loved it.” I’d never heard the New York Philharmonic, and Brahms had never been my favorite composer, but the performance had been breathtaking. That I had experienced it with the hottest man on the planet sitting next to me didn’t hurt.

  “I knew you would.” As the lights came up, he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispered, sending a fresh set of shivers down my spine. “Showtime.”

  He stood and took my hand to help me up, then turned to face the Werners. “Madge, Warren. I wish I’d been here to make introductions. I take it you’ve all met now.”

  “We have,” Madge said. “Celia introduced us.”

  “Good. I wanted the most important people in my life to know each other.” Then, with all eyes on us, he wrapped me in his arms, turning my knees to jelly. “I’m sorry I was late, darling. You look stunning. The most beautiful woman here tonight.”

  He’d said I was stunning when we’d bought the dress, and just as I’d known he’d been saying it for my benefit then, tonight I knew it was for the Werners. He’d never call me “darling” otherwise.

  I stared into his eyes, not needing to fake my adoring gaze. “You don’t know that. You’ve barely looked at anyone else.”

  He rubbed his nose against mine. “Because I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

  God, we could write sappy romance novels. We were that good. He was that good.

  “You were out of town this week?” Warren asked, not seeming to care if he interrupted fake Alayna and Hudson’s moment. “Celia said you were away on business.”

  I hid a grimace. Celia hadn’t said that. I had said that.

  Hudson kissed my forehead lightly before letting me go and directing his attention to Warren. “Yes. A development with Plexis.”

  Warren shook his head. “That’s been a thorn in your side for some time.”

  “Excuse us,” Madge interrupted. “While you men talk about all your boring business, us girls will freshen up.”

  I wasn’t sure if Madge meant to include me as one of “us girls,” but I planned on staying. I wanted to hear the boring business talk. I didn’t want to leave Hudson.

  But Celia took my a
rm, obligating me to accompany them, and Hudson appeared to be waiting until we left to continue. Besides I did need to pee.

  I didn’t miss Hudson’s warning glare to Celia. Even I, who hadn’t been lifelong friends with the man, knew that look told her to be careful what she said to me.

  He didn’t need to worry. The conversation on the way to the restroom and while we waited in line was banal and trivial. Mostly Madge made snide comments about what other people were wearing and tried to discern what and how much Hudson had bought for me.

  It was after I’d peed that the talk became interesting. Madge and Celia were powdering their noses in the side mirror, and didn’t see me come out of my stall. I moved to the sink to wash my hands, and found I could hear their conversation perfectly.

  “She’s pretty,” Madge said. “I’m sorry she’s so pretty.”

  “Mom,” Celia groaned. “Stop.”

  “I’m sure it’s only a fling, honey. This is Hudson’s first real girlfriend. You never settle down with your first.”

  I washed my hands for a long time, listening.

  “Mother, I don’t feel that way about him anymore. I’ve told you. He’s psycho, anyway. You wouldn’t want our kids to have those genes.”

  “He’s got better genes than most. And I know you say you’re over him, Ceeley, but you don’t have to pretend with me. Just make sure he gets thoroughly tested when you get him back.”

  “Mom!”

  An immense wave of rage swept through me. Not only because Madge had insinuated pretty shitty things about me and my sex life, though that did sting. But also because Celia, the woman who was probably Hudson’s closest friend, had called him a psycho. No wonder Hudson kept himself so guarded and shut off from the world. Even the people who were supposed to care most for him seemed to have no understanding or empathy for the inner demons that he likely fought on a daily basis.

  No wonder he’d come looking for me.

  I spritzed cool water on my face, attempting to fan my fury. Then I dried my hands and rejoined the Werner women. Even though I’d just been with him, I suddenly couldn’t wait to be with Hudson again. I regretted that I’d pushed him away. He needed me, I realized now, in a very profound way that I couldn’t put into words. And I needed him. I practically ran to the box.

  Hudson put his arm around my waist when I came to him, though he continued his banter with Mr. Werner and I melted. Wanting even more contact with him, to share physically the epiphany I’d had in the bathroom, I slid my hand under his jacket, desperate to touch him more, gliding my fingers along his lower back.

  He stiffened.

  I withdrew my hand and he relaxed.

  I had to concentrate to not let the sting of his rejection show on my face. Maybe he didn’t realize what I was trying to tell him. So I tried again in the dark when the symphony started again, placing my hand on his knee. Then I trailed it higher along his thigh.

  He stopped me, taking my hand in his. He held it there for the remainder of the show, and though it still held warmth and strength, it felt like a restraint rather than a comfort.

  Disappointment wrapped around me with a cold chill. I was too late. I’d pushed him away and now the invitation was gone. I was grateful for the dark. He wouldn’t notice my eyes filling.

  After the concert was over, we walked out with the Werners toward the parking garage rather than the pickup area.

  “I drove,” Hudson said, answering my brow raise.

  He kept his arm around me as we walked. His touch was constant, but it was all pretend. The pressure and passion he’d shown me in private was missing.

  Also gone were his eyes. Before, whenever I was with him, his eyes never left my body, my face. Now he didn’t make eye contact once and he barely talked to me at all. Instead, he chatted comfortably with Celia, sharing inside jokes. With each step we took, I felt more and more distraught. Sobs built up in in my throat and I concentrated on forcing them back down, keeping them at bay.

  We parted with our companions at the Mercedes. Celia gave me a quick hug while Hudson shook Warren’s hand and kissed Madge on the cheek. I nodded to the Werners then Hudson held the door open for me as I climbed into the passenger seat.

  Before getting in himself, Hudson said goodbye to Celia. I watched through the window, my stomach curling. He hugged her and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh. I wiped away the stray tear that slipped past my defenses.

  Besides destroying me, watching them made me mad—mad as in crazy and mad as in angry as hell. Wasn’t Hudson supposed to be proving that he and Celia shouldn’t be together? And after I’d learned her true thoughts about him, I knew they shouldn’t be together. She was all wrong for him.

  Envy spread through my veins like liquid ice. Celia might not have romance with Hudson, but neither did I. And she had friendship with him. At the moment, it appeared I had nothing.

  We didn’t speak while we maneuvered through the long line out of the garage, Hudson humming fragments of the Brahms symphony as he drove. Was I the only one feeling the thick and heavy tension? A tension that seemed to grow thicker by the minute.

  By the time we were on the road I couldn’t hold in my feelings of frustration and heartbreak any longer. “So you knew Celia would be there tonight.” It wasn’t a question. I already knew the answer, but I wanted him to say it.

  His eyes widened, as if surprised at my harsh tone. “I knew Celia would be there with her parents, yes.” He glanced at me sideways. “Her parents, whom are friends with my parents, remember.”

  Right. Fooling them was as essential as fooling Sophia Pierce.

  What was my problem? I wrapped my arms around my chest and banged my head against the window once, twice, three times. I shouldn’t have been angry—he’d told me he’d be fake with me. I shouldn’t have been jealous—Celia had him as a friend way before I came along. And she didn’t have more than that.

  And neither did I. Not since I’d ended things four days before. Funny how I’d been afraid that being with Hudson would make me fall into bad patterns. Instead, not being with him had been what triggered my anxiety that week and what made me feel so rotten at the moment.

  Another tear slipped down my cheek. I dabbed at it with my knuckle.

  “What’s wrong?” Hudson asked, concern in his voice. Or maybe it was simply puzzlement.

  I considered what to say. I could keep the barrier up between us and evade the question. Or lie. Or confess my envy. Or I could be honest.

  Unable to go another minute with the loneliness that had settled in my chest, honesty won over. “I want you,” I whispered, my face pressed against the glass, too embarrassed to look at him.

  “Alayna?” I felt his eyes on me.

  “I know what I said.” I wiped my eyes, determined to keep the rest of my tears in my eyes. “But maybe I was wrong. I mean, I don’t know if you’re right—if spending time with you can make me better. But I know that since we’ve been apart, I’ve been worse.” Taking a ragged breath, I braved a look at him. “I miss you.” A nervous giggle escaped from my throat. “Told you I get attached.”

  A trace of a smile crossed his lips. “Where do you think I’m taking you?”

  I glanced out the window, having not been paying attention to our destination. Lincoln. Headed East. We were blocks away from Pierce Industries. The loft.

  I straightened, a blush crawling on my cheeks. “Oh,” I said, the lonely ache inside burning away with the spark of desire. Then irritation took over. “I told you no more sex, and you were taking me to the loft without asking?”

  “Alayna,” he sighed with frustration. “You are a bundle of mixed signals. At the symphony you seemed to indicate—“

  “And you totally blew me off,” I interrupted. “Don’t talk to me about mixed signals!”

  He put his hand on my knee. “I was trying to avoid mixing business with pleasure. A difficult task with you, precious.” His voice grew low. “Especially with your wandering hands
and how hot you look in that dress.”

  I blinked. “Oh,” I said again. How did he do that? How did he compartmentalize, dividing the pretend from the real, never the two to cross while I tied myself up in knots?

  “If you want me to ask, I will, though you know it’s not my style.” He took my silent stare as a “yes” even though it was simply me processing. “May I take you to my bed, Alayna?”

  His request came out in a rumble that had my passion buttons going off like fireworks. “Yes,” I half moaned as he pulled up to a red light.

  His hand moved to my head, pulling me to him. His mouth was greedy and full of need, his tongue tasting of deep lust and the Amaretto coffee he’d had at intermission. My panties felt slick, and the corset binding of my dress felt tight against my breasts.

  The honk of a horn pulled him back to the steering wheel. He shifted in his seat and my eyes shot to the bulge straining his pants. My mouth watered, wanting it inside me.

  Hudson shifted again. “Those hungry eyes are not helping the situation.”

  And then we were there. Pulling in at the valet station of Pierce Industries. I was oblivious to the motions Hudson went through, greeting the valet, handing over his keys, moving to walk behind me toward the elevators, his hand firmly on my ass.

  In the elevator we were alone. Hudson entered the code for the penthouse and, as soon as the doors closed, he pressed me against the sheer metal wall of the car. Pausing inches from my lips, his breath mingled with mine. “You’re so beautiful, Alayna.”

  “Then kiss me.”

  One side of his mouth curled up seductively. “I think I’ll take my time.” Slowly, he traced his nose against my jawline, and down my neck. I moved my mouth to try to capture his, but he was quicker, always a step ahead of me. His merciless seduction turned me on to no end, creating a pool of moisture between my legs.

  His slow pace was killing me. “I think I’ll urge you to move faster.” I slid my hand down to fondle the bulge in his pants.

  “Fuck me, Alayna!” he hissed as I continued to knead his erection through the material.