by Vi Keeland
I laughed. “You’re making that up?”
He shook his head. “I wish I was.”
“I take it you didn’t go out with her again?”
“No. Though I met someone who spiked my interest the next weekend, anyway. She’s kind of hard to get out of my head, so it wouldn’t be fair to go out with someone else, even if they did know the difference between Guatemala and guacamole.”
I tried to cool the warm feeling in my belly with my wine. But the way Hudson was watching me didn’t make it easy.
“Did you meet Miss Guatemala on a dating site?”
“No. I actually met her at a fundraiser. I’m not on any dating sites.”
“Really? Then how do you meet people? The old-fashioned way?”
“Yes, I pay for prostitutes.”
“Liar.” I smiled. “You’ve never had to pay for it in your life. I meant bars. Is that where you meet women?”
“Sometimes. I don’t know. Wherever.”
I rolled my eyes and waved my hand at his face. “You have no trouble meeting people because you look like that.”
“Are you saying you like what you see?”
“You know you’re hot. You have a mirror at home, don’t you? I’m sure all you have to do is walk into a bar and snap your fingers and women run over.”
Hudson chuckled. “What am I, the Fonz?”
“Maybe?” We both laughed.
His smile faded as his eyes roamed my face. “You’re really beautiful when you laugh.”
I looked down, feeling a little shy. “Thank you.”
Hudson was still watching me intently when the waitress came back. She seemed to have impeccable timing—for me, anyway. Because when Hudson’s eyes dropped to my lips, I’d been a hair away from suggesting something that wasn’t on the dessert menu.
“See anything you’d like to try?” she said.
Hudson’s eyes blazed, and the slightest twitch at the corner of his mouth confirmed we were on the same page. “I’ll leave it up to the lady to decide what she wants.”
I swallowed and focused on the menu. “Umm... They have crème brûlée cheesecake. You want to share a piece?”
Once again his eyes flickered to my lips for a moment. “Whatever you’re in the mood for.”
This was definitely my last glass of wine. I nodded to the waitress.
Hudson took my menu and lifted it with his for her to take back. “Thank you.”
After she left, I sipped my wine, and Hudson and I talked some more. I couldn’t remember the last time the conversation had flowed so easily when I’d gone out with someone. I’d also smiled the entire night. Though of course, this wasn’t a date. And I kept forgetting that.
By the time my glass was empty again, I’d entered the short hallway that led from tipsy to drunk. Which was probably why I’d lost my filter.
“How long is considered normal to go without sex?”
Hudson’s brows nearly reached his hairline. “Are you asking because you think you’ve surpassed whatever the acceptable limit is?”
My smile was lopsided. “Maybe.”
He groaned. “I said I wouldn’t ask you out again. But I could offer some help taking care of that problem for you.”
I laughed. “Seriously. What’s normal?”
“I have no damn idea.”
“Well, how long has it been for you?”
“I don’t know. A few months now, I guess. How about you?”
I cringed. “More like a year.”
“Not a fan of hookups, I take it?”
“Does Theo James count?”
“The actor? You hooked up with him?”
“Well, no—not the actual actor. But I sort of named my vibrator after him.”
Hudson groaned again. “Don’t tell me that shit.”
“What? Is that too personal? Surely it’s not a shock that a single woman has one.”
“No, it’s not that. But now I want to punch Theo James.”
I laughed.
Hudson shook his head. “I take it you named it that because that’s who you…envision?”
I bit my lip. Theo had been my go-to fantasy for years, although lately, my battery-operated boyfriend should have been renamed for the man whose eyes were currently growing darker as we spoke.
I was grateful the waitress was quick and returned with dessert. At least my big mouth would be kept busy for a while.
Some time later, I looked around the restaurant and realized it was almost empty. “What time is it?”
Hudson checked his watch. “Almost eleven. I didn’t realize it was that late. No wonder the waitress has checked on us three times since she brought dessert. She probably wants to get the hell out of here.”
“I think you’re right.”
We left the restaurant, and Hudson drove me home. As usual, there was no parking in front of my building, so he parked a few doors down.
“I’m going to walk you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
He got out and came around to my side of the car to open the door, then extended a hand.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
We were quiet as we made our way to my building. I debated whether I should invite him in for coffee or something, and I still hadn’t decided as we entered the lobby and stood in front of the elevator. Of course, the run-down thing usually took ten minutes, but tonight the doors slid open immediately after I pushed the button. Hudson put one hand on the edge to stop it from closing and held the other out for me to enter—though he didn’t follow me in.
“Congratulations again on today. You killed it.”
I smiled. “Thank you. For everything, Hudson—taking a chance on me, getting me the opportunity at the network, all the things you’ve done to help make everything come together, and even celebrating with me tonight. I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet that I’m going to be on the Home Shopping Channel showing the world Signature Scent. And truly, I owe it all to you.”
He shook his head. “I just cracked open a few doors. Everything else was all you.”
We stared at each other until the elevator tried to close. Hudson’s hand stopped it, but he took that as his cue. “Goodnight, Stella.”
“Goodnight, Hudson.”
He stepped back, removing his hand.
The longest fifteen seconds ticked by while I stood in the car, waiting for the elevator doors to slide closed again. A sense of panic washed over me when they finally started to move, and at the last second, I stuck my hand between them, causing them to bounce open again.
Hudson had turned to leave, but he looked back when he heard the elevator open.
“Would you…want to come up for coffee or something?” My heart pounded inside as I waited for him to speak.
“Coffee?” he eventually said.
I bit my lip and nodded.
Hudson searched my face. “You sure you want me to come up?”
When I took too long to debate my answer, he smiled sadly. “That’s what I thought.”
I let out a relieved exhale and shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I tease you that I’m waiting for you to ask me out, but it’s not really about you making the first move. It’s about your head being clear on what you want. This isn’t over. I’m just waiting for that little whisper in your head to get loud enough for you to listen.”
“What whisper?”
“The one that keeps telling you that despite your trust issues and concerns about our business relationship, you want me as much as I want you.”
I smiled halfheartedly, and Hudson took both of my hands in his. He lifted his chin to the empty space in the open car behind me.
“Now why don’t you get back in the elevator before I lose the last shred of self-control I have and join you.” He raised one of my hands to his lips and kissed the top. “Go.”
I nodded and stepped back in. Pushi
ng the button on the door panel, I said quietly, “Thanks, Hudson.”
He winked as the doors began to slide closed. “Enjoy Theo.”
CHAPTER 17
Stella
The rest of the week flew by. Olivia and I worked day and night to get all of the marketing materials finalized, while Hudson focused on the orders-and-financing side of things. By Saturday morning, only a few of the rushed shipments had come in, so it was pretty daunting that the segment I’d taped was going to air at three o’clock this afternoon, and then orders could start pouring in. At least I hoped they poured in. Everything was in motion, but I wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the warehouse was full of all the products necessary to start shipping.
To add to that stress, I was a nervous wreck about seeing myself on TV. The last couple of days, I’d started freaking out that Signature Scent might bomb. I knew the show flashed the quantity remaining like a ticker at the bottom of the television screen, and I’d had a recurring nightmare that throughout the segment I only sold three boxes and there were 49,997 left after my hour was up.
I’d really wanted to stay home and watch the segment today by myself while I alternated between chewing my nails and hiding my face under a cover. But Olivia had organized a viewing party at her apartment. She’d been so kind and supportive, it was impossible to say no. So now here I was, Ubering downtown with two-dozen homemade cupcakes on my lap to watch the show with a dozen people from the office.
I’d obviously known the Rothschild family wasn’t poor, since their business was loaning money to other businesses, but when we pulled up to the address Olivia had given me on Murray Street, my breath caught. Wow. She lived in one of the new, fancy skyscrapers in Tribeca—a modern tower of curved glass that widened as it went up. The design was super sleek, the type of building featured in Architectural Digest or some other glossy magazine. Even the entrance was intimidating. It jutted out onto the street in an imposing way, as if to show people who had to move for whom. Stepping out of the Uber and looking up, I suddenly wished I hadn’t baked the cupcakes I’d brought and had instead picked up something more professional-looking from one of the dozen overpriced cupcakeries that had popped up all over the City the last few years. I also really wished Fisher hadn’t had to go out of town this weekend on business. I could use him by my side today.
I sighed and tried my best not to feel inferior just because I couldn’t even afford the enormous plantings outside the front door. Olivia’s apartment was on the fifty-third floor, but I had to check in at a desk in the lobby. The security guard gave me a keycard to slide into the elevator panel, rather than pushing a button. As soon as I inserted it, the doors slid closed and the fifty-three button illuminated. I took a deep breath as the fast-moving car climbed its way up, but with each floor that passed, my nerves became more and more frayed. When the doors opened, I’d expected to have a few minutes to collect myself in the hallway, but instead I stepped directly into Olivia’s apartment.
She greeted me with her usual bubbly enthusiasm and swamped me in a hug. “Eeep! I’m so excited! I can’t wait! You’re the first one here.”
“That makes one of us. I think I might throw up.”
Olivia giggled as if I were joking, but my stomach did feel pretty queasy at the moment. She ushered me from the entryway into the kitchen. However fancy I’d thought her apartment would be based on the building from the outside, I’d underestimated. The kitchen was beautiful, complete with high-end appliances, sparkling granite, and two big islands. But the living room was the showstopper.
“Wow. Your view is just…” I shook my head. “It’s incredible.”
Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the adjoining living room, showcasing sprawling views of the water and city.
Olivia waved it off. “View-shmew—these cupcakes look delicious. Do you mind if I have a bite of one now?”
I laughed. “Of course not. And I think you can have more than a bite. They’re actually sugar-free. I found the recipe on a diabetes website. I ate one for breakfast this morning while I was baking them, and they’re pretty damn good, if I say so myself.”
“You’re an angel!” She popped the lid off one of the plastic containers and chose a vanilla one with chocolate frosting. Peeling the paper off the bottom, she motioned to the giant windows I couldn’t take my eyes off of. “I used to think that was everything I wanted. And then Hudson bought his brownstone in Brooklyn last year. He has no view, but he has a little backyard, and the building has so much character. It feels like he lives in a real home. This place…” She shook her head and licked a line of icing off the top of the cupcake. “I don’t know… It just sort of feels like I’m staying at a luxury hotel or something. Charlie only stays with her dad a few days a week, and she already has friends who live on their block. I’ve lived here for two years, and I don’t know a single person in the building. I sort of feel like I live in an ivory tower up here.” She laughed. “Don’t tell Hudson I said that. I wouldn’t want to mess with our delicate dynamic. He thinks it’s his job to teach me about life, and I pretend I don’t need him to.”
I smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”
A bell sounded overhead, and Olivia walked to an intercom system on the wall and pressed a button. “I have a delivery from Cipriani,” the voice said.
“Great. Send them up, please, Dave.”
Just as she released the buzzer, a man I recognized—though I hadn’t actually met him—walked out from a hallway on the other side of the living room. Ugh. I’d been so busy worrying about seeing myself on TV and how Signature Scent would do that I hadn’t stopped to consider that Olivia’s husband would be home on a Saturday afternoon. Of course I’d apologized to Olivia multiple times. For the most part, I didn’t feel embarrassed when I spoke to her anymore. We’d somehow been able to put what I’d done behind us. But I’d never spoken to her husband, and I prayed it wouldn’t be too awkward. Though the grin on his face as he strode toward the kitchen had me freaking out a little.
Olivia waved between us. “Mason, this is the guest of honor, Stella. Stella, this is my husband, Mason. Mase, the food is here. Why don’t you make Stella a drink while I deal with the delivery?”
My face heated with renewed shame as he extended his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Hi.” I cringed and shook my head. “I’m really sorry about your wedding. I apologized to your wife, but I should have sent you a note, too.”
Mason shook his head. “Totally not necessary. The whole thing was pretty funny, especially the story you told. Plus, Liv never stops talking about you, so everything worked out for the best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited about something to do with work. She’s really invested in what you’ve created.”
I let out a relieved breath and smiled. “She is. I’m very lucky. To be honest, I was really unsure about going into business with an investor. But she’s given me so much more than financial backing. I feel like I have a partner who cares as much as I do.”
Mason nodded. “She does.” He looked over my shoulder at her before lowering his voice. “She went through a funk after her dad died last year. The only thing that seemed to get her out of it was planning our wedding. So I was a little concerned about what would happen when it was over. But then you happened, and I feel like I’ve gotten my old Liv back lately. So while you might think you owe me an apology, it’s really me who owes you a big thanks.”
Wow. I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say—actually, I do. You two were made for each other. You’re both amazing.”
He smiled and again glanced over my shoulder. “I see her searching in her bag for money for a tip. She never carries a dollar, so I don’t know why she’s looking. In about ten seconds, she’s going to call my name so she can rummage through my wallet. So what can I get you to drink? A mixed drink, beer, wine?”
“I’d love a glass of wine. Merlot, if you have it.”
“You got it.”
&nbs
p; Olivia yelled from the kitchen. “Mason?”
He grinned and pulled out his wallet. “I’ll be back with your wine after I tip the delivery man. Make yourself at home.”
I could have stood at the windows and looked at the view of the City all day, but the mantel over the fireplace caught my eye. There were half a dozen framed pictures on it, so I walked over to be nosy and take a look.
The large silver frame in the center featured a photo from their wedding day. Olivia was bent over laughing as she stood next to a multi-tiered wedding cake, a piece of which she’d obviously just smashed in her husband’s face. Mason’s tongue was out as he tried to lick the cake from his face through a smile. I loved that they’d chosen that photo to frame, rather than some perfectly posed one. It really showed their happiness, and their smile grew contagious as I looked at it.
To one side of the wedding photo was a picture of an older couple. They were standing in the rain wearing yellow rain slickers, but the smiles on their faces radiated sunshine. They had to be Olivia and Hudson’s parents, because the man was basically an older version of Hudson. Next to that photo was a shot of Olivia and Mason at the beach—sporting backward baseball caps and drinking beer. Again, the smiles on their faces were positively contagious.
I skimmed over a few more photos of the happy couple with various friends, and then my eyes landed on the last framed photo at the end. That one I picked up to take a closer look at the two kids—a young Olivia and Hudson. The little boy was probably about nine or ten, but his gorgeous, bright blue eyes were unmistakably Hudson’s. He also wore a smirk I’d become all too familiar with. He leaned forward, hovering over a birthday cake, about to blow out the candles. Olivia sat to his left, and his arm was extended, one of his hands covering her mouth.
A deep voice over my shoulder startled me. “Some shit never changes.”
Hudson. “Jesus. You scared me. Didn’t you learn your lesson about sneaking up on people? I didn’t hear you come in.”
