He reached over and grabbed my hand.
“Are you nervous?” he asked with a laugh. “Your hand is sweating.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said as I yanked it away and wiped it on my jeans. “I’ve only ever flown once before.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I fly all the time. Nothing bad has ever happened. It’s actually kind of fun.”
We found our gate and took a seat as he positioned himself away from the view of the general public and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses.
“Does the sunglass thing actually work?” I asked.
“I like to think it does,” he said as he leaned back and rested his face in his hand.
I crossed my legs and stared out the window, watching the plane as it pulled up. My left foot began to jiggle nervously as the thought of flying out of Iowa really hit me.
“Now boarding for flight 742, Delta Airlines, Des Moines to Los Angeles,” a flight attendant stated over the speaker system. “We’ll begin with our first class passengers.”
“That’s us,” he said as he tapped my knee and stood up.
My heart was pounding hard in my chest and my face felt flush. There was absolutely no turning back now. I needed a sign that I was doing the right thing, but the space around me was spinning and all I could focus on was the back of Hudson’s gray shirt.
We walked down the jet bridge towards the plane and were greeted immediately by two flight attendants who seemed more than happy to help us find our seats.
“You want the window or the aisle?” he asked.
I shrugged. Everything was a blur, and I couldn’t quite think right then.
“You can have the window,” he said. “Since you don’t get to fly much.”
I climbed in and took my seat, buckling myself in. As soon as he sat down next to me, other flyers began filing on and the plane was filling up fast. I could hear the chatter of men, women, and children and the shuffling of bags and carry ons. I felt trapped between the window and Hudson, and even if I wanted to flee, there was no way I’d be able to get through the swarms of people and back towards the jet bridge.
“You need another pill?” Hudson whispered to me. “You’re breathing really hard.”
I nodded, closed my eyes, and waited.
“Here you are,” a flight attended showed up with a couple of bottles of Evian. “Let me know if you need anything else. We’ll have an inflight meal ready for you shortly after takeoff.”
Hudson handed me a pill and then a bottle of water. The ice cold liquid rushing down my throat instantly cooled me and brought me back down to earth as the pill settled in my belly. I was going to be okay.
The cabin grew louder as the flight attendants began shutting overhead storage bins and securing the plane. The engines fired up and my ears began to pop. The dry air made my throat a little scratchy, so I tossed back a few sips of cold water. Hudson reached over to squeeze my hand and flashed me the most beautiful, comforting smile.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead.
“I can’t wait to get you home with me,” he whispered.
I felt a little better knowing he was so excited to take me with him, but it still didn’t quash all of my fears. Everything had happened so fast and in the heat of the moment. I was afraid of what I’d gotten myself into. I closed my eyes and prayed for a sign.
As if on cue, my phone went off in my purse.
“Oh,” I said as I pulled it out. I had a text and it was from Luke.
SORRY I’VE BEEN SUCH AN ASS. I LOVE YOU, BRYNN.
My heart raced at the sight of those words.
“Is that from Luke?” Hudson asked. He had read the text over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I said, clutching the phone close to my chest and embarrassed he’d read my message. “I called him to tell him I was leaving town.”
“Why would he say he loves you?” he asked. The plane’s engines were growing louder, almost angrily, as Hudson’s face contorted. “What did you talk about?”
“I wanted him to hear it from me,” I said. “That was I was leaving.”
“Or you wanted to give him a chance to tell you to stay.” For someone who hardly knew me, he knew me well.
“It’s not like that,” I lied. “I just thought I should do the right thing and tell him over the phone that I was leaving. He’s one of my best friends.”
Hudson took a deep breath as he leaned back in his chair, shifting uncomfortably. I never realized he had a jealous side to him.
“You need to turn your phone off,” he said. “FDA regulations.”
I shut my phone down and tossed it in my bag, kicking my bag under the seat in front of me. I leaned back into the wide, leather seat and turned to look out the window.
Luke loved me and now Hudson was pissed. It was funny how everything could change in an instant like that, when you least expected it.
The plane taxied to the runway as I gripped the arm rests and prayed for the Xanax to kick in. Within seconds, we were mid-air, going higher and higher and heading west into the great unknown.
***
We picked up our luggage from the baggage carousel at LAX. The swarms of people around us were nothing short of overwhelming. I’d never been around that big of a crowd before. I kept looking around, half hoping to see another famous face, but all I saw were older men in business suits, surfer dudes, and tall, skinny, big-breasted blondes. It was exactly what I expected and exactly what I wasn’t prepared for.
I felt so frumpy next to all of them. I was quite sure no one around me had a purse that cost less than $1,000 or sunglasses that cost less than $300. Everyone was well-dressed and well-coifed, and the line of shiny, luxury imports outside in the pick-up lane peppered between taxies and limousines was nothing short of intimidating.
I felt like I was on some alien planet, and it didn’t help that Hudson was still giving me a bit of a cold shoulder. Ever since he saw the text from Luke, his whole demeanor had changed. All I knew was that I was already here, so I was going to give this a shot. If it didn’t work out, then I’d worry about Luke. As far as I was concerned, Luke was a day late and a dollar short. I had made my choice. I had boarded the plane. I had left Rock River.
“Watch out for the vultures,” Hudson growled.
I soon realized he was talking about the paparazzi that hung out outside the airport. As soon as we emerged from the building, flashing cameras and men with handheld cameras swarmed us, yelling out so many questions and comments my head was spinning. Hudson ignored them all like the professional he was and eventually they left us alone when they realized they weren’t getting anything worthwhile.
He wheeled our suitcases out to long-term parking where we quickly found his black Range Rover. The car was steaming hot and filled my nostrils with the smell of baked leather and new car scent. I climbed in and buckled up as he loaded our things in the back.
“No driver?” I teased him, trying to break the awkward silence.
“Everyone drives themselves out here,” he said. “This isn’t New York.”
“I was teasing,” I said. I almost reached down into my purse to pull out my phone out of habit, but I stopped myself. It wasn’t the right time, and I needed to be present.
He aggressively pulled out of the airport parking lot and headed straight for the freeway where we merged and spent the next hour battling stop and go traffic. I’d never seen so many cars in my entire life, but none of it seemed to daunt Hudson. He was used to it.
“Hudson,” I said as I finally broke the silence an hour later. “I’m here with you, and I don’t regret this.”
He turned towards me and looked me deeply in the eyes for a second before reluctantly reaching his hand over and resting it in my lap.
“I won’t lie. This scares the shit out of me,” I said with a nervous laugh. “But I’m here.”
I interlaced our fingers together and he gave my hand a good squeeze, still saying nothing.
CHAPTER 7
&n
bsp; Hudson turned off a busy road and towards a residential neighborhood. Signs indicated we were in Brentwood.
“Is this where you live?” I asked.
He nodded.
“I would’ve taken you as more of an ocean kind of guy,” I said. “I figured you’d be right on the water.”
“I have another place in Malibu,” he said. “But this is my primary residence.”
We drove under a canopy of thick, tree lined streets and rode past low lying houses that were hidden behind tall, private gates. It was nothing short of beautiful and unlike anything I’d ever seen back home in Iowa.
He turned into a narrow driveway surrounded by thick shrubs and clicked a button near his visor. The private gate opened to let us through and we pulled forward onto a paved driveway.
The outside of his house was covered in white stucco and topped with a red tiled roof. Palm trees and various green shrubs lined his property, providing the perfect amount of shade. A bubbling fountain next to his front door served as a nice resting spot for two little brown birds, and his grass was manicured and lush.
“Here we are,” he said as he gently placed his Range Rover into park.
I couldn’t take my eyes off his beautiful property. It was so simple yet so private and serene. It was exactly the kind of place I imagined someone famous living.
I climbed out and headed back to help with the luggage, but Hudson did it all. I didn’t have to lift a finger. He rolled our luggage towards his garage and entered some code to open the door. We walked in through the garage entry and stepped into the most luxurious kitchen I’d ever laid eyes on.
Marble counter tops, staggered white cabinets, and some sort of glass backsplash all contrasted against the dark, Jacobean wood floors. A fresh basket of fruit sat neatly on the center of the oversized island while a large flower arrangement took center stage on the nearby kitchen table. I’d never seen anything like it before.
Across from his kitchen was a family room with floor to ceiling built in shelving and an enormous flat screen TV. Oversized furniture was arranged ever so perfectly for both conversation and relaxation.
Behind the family room were floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that led out to a covered patio and the most beautiful pool.
“You okay?” Hudson asked. He had probably noticed I was slightly in shock.
“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “It’s just all so beautiful.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he rolled our bags down the hall.
I leaned up against the big kitchen island and ran my fingers along the smooth, cool marble. Every vein was perfect, and I loved how it felt under the palm of my hand. I glanced up and looked out the picture window above the farmhouse sink. His back yard was nothing but lush, green grass, exotic, flowering bushes, lemon trees, and palms.
“Want to go sit outside?” Hudson asked as he came back.
I nodded.
He walked over to an intercom along the wall.
“Flor,” he called over the intercom.
“Yes, Mr. Smith,” a woman with a Hispanic accent soon buzzed back.
“Can you come to the kitchen please?” he asked.
“Be right there, Mr. Smith,” she replied.
“Flor is my house manager,” he said. “She cooks, cleans, and does laundry. You name it, she does it. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”
A middle-aged woman with dark hair wearing jeans and a t-shirt walked into the room holding a bucket of cleaning supplies. Her hair was swept back into a low pony-tail and her t-shirt was dirty and stained with bleach.
“Cleaning day,” she said to me, as she appeared somewhat embarrassed. “I don’t always look like this.”
“Flor meet Brynn,” he said. “Brynn, this is Flor.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said with a slightly cool smile. She had intense, brown eyes.
“Same here,” I said as I shook her hand.
“I met Brynn out in Iowa,” Hudson explained. “Thought I’d show her how we live out here.”
Flor smiled and her eyes sparkled when they met his. She turned back to me, her sparkle dulling a bit before she muttered a forcibly cordial, “Welcome, Brynn.”
“Would you mind making us a batch of your amazingly exquisite fresh lemonade?” Hudson asked.
“Not at all,” she said as she reached into the bowl of fruit on the island and pulled out a few fresh lemons. “Just give me a second.”
“We’re going to head outside for a bit,” he said. “Just bring it out there when it’s ready.”
“Yes, Mr. Smith,” she said as she pulled out a pitcher from the cabinet.
Flor would’ve done anything to make him happy. He told her to jump and she seemed to ask how high. I supposed that’s what she was paid to do though. I’d never imagined anyone to get so excited over making someone a batch of lemonade before.
Hudson motioned towards the sliding doors, and I followed him outside to the covered patio. Pale gray wicker chairs with thick, linen-colored cushions lined a long, glass outdoor dining table as the whirring and rushing of the waterfall above the pool splashed in the background.
“This is beautiful, Hudson,” I said as I pulled up the chair right next to him. “I might never want to leave.”
He cracked a smile, the first one I’d seen since we’d left Des Moines, and a rush of relief washed over me.
“Here you are,” Flor said as she burst through the doorway carrying a tray of lemonade towards us. She sat it on the table before placing coasters in front of us and sitting icy cold glasses of yellow, muddled liquid on top of them.
Hudson wasted no time in taking a sip.
“Aah,” he sighed as he smacked his lips. “I’ve missed this so much, Flor.”
I could tell she was tickled as she giggled, thanked him in Spanish, and went back inside the house.
I took a sip from my glass. Lemonade was usually lemonade to me, but I had to admit Flor’s lemonade was nothing short of amazing.
“Wow,” I said. “You weren’t joking. Are those mint leaves? Basil? What is that?”
He leaned back and closed his eyes, looking deep in thought. I wondered if he was still upset about what happened earlier or if he was just at home in his element and this was the real Hudson Smith.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “With us, I mean.”
He opened his eyes and sat straight up, turning towards me. “Of course.”
“Okay, you’ve just been really quiet,” I said. “Since earlier.”
He shrugged and placed his hand over mine. “You worry too much, Brynn.”
“You’re not regretting this are you?” I asked, eyes wide. “Bringing me here?”
He laughed. “No, not for one second. Don’t think that. Please.”
“What are you thinking about?” I asked. “A quiet mind is a busy one. That’s what my dad always said.”
“Everything,” he sighed. “I’m leaving for another movie shoot in a few more weeks. I’m just trying to think of all the things I want to show you before I leave. And all the things I want to do to you.”
He flashed his famous smile and winked at me. He was beginning to remind me of the Hudson I’d fallen hard for back in Iowa just one week prior.
I blushed.
“Mr. Smith,” Flor said as she slid the door open. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Ava Fox is here to see you,” she said. She bit her lip as if the news was going to be terribly received. “She’s at the gate asking to come in.”
Hudson sat up and his face twisted angrily. “Absolutely not.”
“That’s what I thought,” Flor said. “I’ll tell her you’re not home.”
“No need to lie,” he said. “Tell her she’s not welcome here. Not anymore.”
Flor hesitated, and I could tell she didn’t want to say those things. Not to Ava Fox. Ava was one of the most prominent and in demand A-list actresses in Hollywood. I su
spected no one ever told her “no”.
“I’m sorry,” Hudson said. “I don’t want you to get in the middle of it. I’ll go handle it. Brynn, excuse me for a second.”
He followed Flor back inside and returned in less than two minutes.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Some people just can’t take no for an answer.”
I knew from reading the tabloids that Hudson Smith and Ava Fox had a hot and heavy two year fling. Every other week the tabloids were saying they were engaged or she was pregnant or they were breaking up or something else sensational. It was good to know at least one of those headlines were true.
I wanted to ask him what it was like dating someone like Ava. She was gorgeous with her platinum blonde hair, smooth, tan skin, and ocean blue eyes. Her legs were a mile long and her body was incredible. She starred in mostly chick flicks, and on screen she seemed like a totally girl’s girl, the kind of person I’d love to befriend in real life. She was known for her infections laugh and her impeccable comedic timing. She seemed like such a happy person, at least from the outside.
It was hard to swallow the fact that Hudson had gone from dating someone like her to having any sort of interest in someone like me.
I glanced down into my lap at what Luke had always jokingly called my “American thighs”. I was a healthy size six, small compared to most of the people back home, but in L.A. I may as well have been on the heavier end of the spectrum.
“What’s wrong?” Hudson asked, noting my silence.
“Nothing,” I said as I popped my head up and flashed a smile. I didn’t want him to know I was feeling insecure all of a sudden.
“You have nothing to worry about with Ava and me,” he said. “I swear to you.”
I smiled. I had a million questions, but I knew none of them were any of my damn business.
“She’s crazy,” he said as his eyes grew big. “Complete and utter crazy.”
I smiled and took a sip of lemonade. “I never would’ve guessed that. She seems so sweet in her movies.”
“She’s got everyone fooled,” he snickered. “She had me fooled for a long time.”
Smitten Page 8
