Abyss (Elements of Rapture Book 4)

15. Hudson

HUDSON

“Now I know why none of your other temps worked out,” Jett states after the door shuts behind Kavi. He nods in the direction she took off. “None were as stunning as her.”

I hold myself back from pulling him up by his collar and throwing him out the fucking window. Jett’s always known how to get under my skin, and that’s exactly what he’s doing now.

Truth be told, as much of an asshole as he’s trying to come across, he’s not one. His attempt to rile me up has more to do with his own pain than me. He’s hurt that he’s even having to come to my office instead of being able to reach me by phone like he used to.

Regardless, I don’t take the bait. “I don’t have time for your bullshit. Either tell me why you’re here or leave. You’re well acquainted with the exit for this building, as we both know.”

Yeah, that was a low-blow, but he’s not the only one still hurt.

A flash of remorse crosses his features. “There were reasons for me leaving, Hud. Reasons you weren’t willing to listen to.”

“That’s right,” I cut in sharply. “I don’t give a fuck about your reasons, then or now. If that’s all you came here to say—”

“I didn’t.” He rises from his chair, his hands finding his pockets in a similar stance to mine. “I came here because I want to work together again.”

I rock back on my heels. “I’m sorry, what? On which planet did you think that was ever going to be possible again?”

He runs a hand over his clean-shaven jaw. “Congratulations on winning the Rose City deal, by the way. We worked our asses off, but I knew we couldn’t compete when it came to the sheer expertise you have on the team.”

My brain starts to connect the dots. “Ah, so that’s what this is about. Your company wants in.”

He shrugs. “It makes sense, Hud. You may have the raw talent—the best in the industry—working for you, but we have the muscle. I saw the timeline you guys proposed to them. You’re living a pipe dream if you think you can get that shit built by the end of next year without more manpower.”

I don’t deign to give him a response. He’s right that the timeline is tight, but we based it on adding twenty percent more to the workforce in the future just to complete the project. How we’ll add that workforce so quickly? That’s still something we’re figuring out, since most of our work requires niche specializations.

“Look, this could be mutually beneficial to both of us. I’m not asking for an equal partnership—”

“Good, because you already tossed that in the garbage when you had it,” I retort.

He takes a breath. “Let’s table that comment for a moment; I’ll come back to it. Like I said, we’re not looking for a partnership, we’re looking for a contractual opportunity.” He pauses. “I’m not going to lie to you. We were banking on getting the airport contract. We’d hired for it weeks before we actually made the bid. We wanted to show them we were serious, but in the end, Silas and his team valued deep expertise over manpower, and I respect that. But now—”

“Now you have a bunch of staff sitting around twiddling their thumbs,” I surmise.

He doesn’t respond; he doesn’t need to. We both know I’m right, and the reason he’s here is to avoid a massive layoff. And a layoff will make his company’s stock look shittier than it has on Wall Street over the past year because of their financial projections.

He licks his lips before his expression turns softer—the way it did when he’d get in serious trouble with our dad for the pranks he pulled and he’d come begging me to bail him out because Dad trusted my judgment. “I’m asking you to think about it. It would be a separate contract between Case Geo and us. We wouldn’t take any of the credit for the work; only Case Geo would. But yes, you’d be helping us save some substantial losses.”

I bite my bottom lip, thinking. But his proposal isn’t all I’m thinking about.

I’m also thinking about the fun times we had. Like the summer after Jett graduated with his MBA, and I took him to Norway before he started working for me. We toured, fished, and camped out to see the Northern Lights. It was one of the best few weeks I’d spent with my brother.

We’d become a team after that. He’d slowly started understanding the business I was running, and I’d given him the leeway to do the things he was great at, like his creativity and staff development. It’s why he was so loved within the company. It’s why he was able to take so many people with him.

“And as for the point about the equal partnership,” Jett says, bringing me out of my memories. “Bro, when did you ever consider me an equal partner?”

My head jerks back. “What?”

Jett huffs out a mirthless chuckle. “I was always your little brother. The kid you helped raise. The one who always got in more trouble than you, who couldn’t get anything right in Dad’s eyes. And despite the fact that you claimed otherwise, you didn’t trust me.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” My voice rises, along with the temperature of my skin. “I didn’t trust you? Me?” I shove my finger into my chest. “Jett, I fucking gave you one of my biggest business units to run on your own!”

“Only because I’m your brother! Only because you saw me as some charity case!” he retorts. “You didn’t give it to me because you believed in me; you gave it to me because I practically begged you! Let’s not forget you still had final approval over ninety-nine percent of my decisions.”

“Because you ran it like Dad would! You let people walk all over you. Your team consistently missed deadlines, your financials were trash, and you were hemorrhaging company dollars on extravagant team events. You had the largest budget, for God’s sake, and you constantly went overboard!”

He runs a frustrated hand into his hair. “And that is why I left, big brother. Because I was fucking tired of having to run things your way. Your focus has always been authority rather than fostering employee morale, but look around, Hud.” He paces the room. “I bet you could count the number of happy employees on one hand, if that. I mean, look at the way you just treated your new admin, dismissing her like she was an ant.”

My stomach drops as I replay my harsh words to Kavi before she left.

I was so blinded by my brother’s sudden appearance and hearing her laughter in response to whatever he was saying that I didn’t think about my tone. And then, in a low blow, I used her passion for baking as a way of making her feel bad.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“You talk about loyalty and trust,” Jett continues, “but it goes both ways, brother. Employees need to feel like they can make mistakes without fear of losing their jobs. They need to be able to trust their management to have their backs, treating them as valuable assets, not cogs.”

His words cut through me, my breath catching as I take in his candid admission.

Jett moves past me, a frown replacing his usual boyish smile as he places a hand on the doorknob. “I’m fucking sorry I hurt you, Hud. I regret how it went down. I tried talking to you about more autonomy and a broader role, but you dismissed me every time. I reached a breaking point, so I left. And believe me, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

I see the sincerity in his eyes but stay silent, processing it all.

“I never solicited the other staff that left; they followed me on their own accord.” He takes a shaky breath, his face dropping with shame. “And as for Kenna—”

“I don’t give a shit about Kenna.”

“But I give a shit about you. And giving a shit about someone means not hurting them. I knew you guys were already on the fritz, but that didn’t change the part I played. We only hooked up that one time, despite what she might have made it seem like. But, drunk or not, I betrayed your trust, and I’m sorry. She resigned from my company a few months after leaving Case Geo, by the way.”

His eyes mist over. “You’re a better man than me, Hud. You’re loyal to a fault and driven beyond what’s humanly possible. You’re genuine, caring, and resilient. But more than anything else, you’re one hell of a big brother. You’ve taught me almost everything I know. The one thing you never taught me was betrayal, and now I’m reaping that karma.”

My knitted brows must convey my confusion, prompting him to clarify, “Because there’s nothing worse than not having the big brother you’ve always loved in your life.”

I rereadthe message I sent her over six hours ago; the one currently still sitting on Read.

Me

I’m sorry. I was a jackass, and that was completely uncalled for.

It’s nearly seven, and I haven’t seen her since she left me and Jett in the room. I’ve even gone out to check her desk at least twelve times in the past hour. I know she’s around, given the empty platter I lent her is still on her desk, so either she actually had all those meetings to kick off the RCS work all day, like her calendar showed, or she’s become adept at avoiding me.

Either way, I feel like shit.

My ears lock onto the sound of soft rustling outside my office, near her desk, and I decide to shut down my laptop, quickly reaching for my phone and keys. I’m about to exit my office when I hear the distinct ding of the elevator.

Shit.

She’s leaving without saying anything. She’s definitely still pissed.

I hurry down the hallway, catching sight of her empty desk—no platter on the corner—before noticing the elevator doors closing behind her.

I press the button to call the elevator back up, my chest feeling tighter than a guitar string ready to snap.

Today’s been a strange day.

From replaying Jett’s words in my head over a thousand times to worrying about the way I dismissed Kavi, I haven’t gotten a single productive thing done.

It’s clear his apology was sincere. I know my brother well enough to know when he’s bullshitting, and he wasn’t. He knows he fucked up, and I have genuinely missed him.

But can I trust him again? And even if I decided to forgive him, would our relationship ever be what it was? Would I always be waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I look around the first-floor foyer as soon as I’m out of the elevator, hoping maybe I’ll catch her leaving, but there’s no sign of anyone besides the doorman.

Making my way to the basement garage, I jump into my truck and zoom out of the lot.

A slight drizzle coats my windshield as I scan the street. She must have taken a cab because she’d be crazy to walk this late in the evening when it’s still rain—

Goddammit!

I was wrong. She is crazy enough.

In her oversized men’s blazer, with her lemon-printed umbrella in hand, she’s hard to miss. She crosses the street in front of me, platter in tow.

Where the hell is she going? Why is she walking in the opposite direction of our apartment? Is she . . . is she fucking leaving again?

As soon as the signal changes, I turn my truck in the same direction, slowing to a crawl next to her. She does a double take when she sees me roll down my window, throwing her nose up in the air and increasing her speed the best she can on her still-injured leg.

My teeth grit as I watch her walk. I hate that she wouldn’t listen to me and let me look at it. What if she’s more hurt than she’s letting me believe? “Where are you going?”

I’m sure to anyone watching, I sound like a creeper, trying to catcall a random girl from my window.

She doesn’t respond, keeping her shoulders back and her head forward, moving her umbrella between us to try to block me out.

“Kavi, where the fuck are you going? Our apartment is the other way.”

She pulls her umbrella back, glaring at me. “It’s not our apartment; it’s yours. And it’s none of your business where I’m going.”

“The day you agreed to live with me, it became your apartment, too,” I yell back. “And yes, it is my business to know where you’re going. Why the hell wouldn’t you call Aaron or just ride with me?”

She doesn’t answer my question, looking down at the platter in her hand. “Is this about your dish? I’m not stealing it. You can have it back.”

Jesus. The woman is certifiable.

“Kavi, get in the truck.”

“And be in an enclosed space with you so you can be an asshole up-close-and-personal again? No, thanks.”

I run a frustrated hand down my face, watching her walk with gusto. Goddamn, the woman is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.

Giving up, I grab the nearest parking spot on the street a block away from her and amble out of my car. She likely thinks I’ve driven off.

Sounds of tires over the wet streets and the scent of fresh sourdough bread hit my senses as I cover the distance between us, jaunting toward her.

Kavi comes to a stop, eyes wide, when she sees me approaching. “Go home, Hudson!”

A few drops of rain land gently on my face so I bend, getting under her umbrella with her. I take it from her, my hand wrapping around hers before she lets go, so I can lift it to accommodate my height. “It’s precisely what I’m trying to do, but you’re not letting me.”

She glares up at me, the stupid platter between us. Even on this dimly lit sidewalk, her honey-colored eyes sparkle like sunshine. “What do you want?”

God, if only that was a simple question. If only I could tell her exactly what I wanted. I haven’t quite admitted it to myself, but I’m getting there.

“Your forgiveness, for one.”

She turns her head, frustration wrinkling her features. Even so, she’s beautiful.

“We keep coming back to the same place. You say something mean and then ask for forgiveness.”

“I’ll probably do it again, too.” When she huffs, I continue, “But I can tell you one thing. I’ve never asked for forgiveness this many times in less than two weeks.”

She squints at me. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

My lips twitch. “Yes.”

“Yeah, nice try, Mr. Sunshine. I’m over your mood swings.”

She tries to grab her umbrella from my hand, but I’m faster, pulling it back before she can take it from me. “I fucked up, Kav. I saw my brother after almost two years, and then I heard you laughing, and—”

“You heard me laughing?” she repeats, enunciating the word and making me feel even more idiotic than I already do at my admission.

“Yes, I heard you laughing and . . .” I huff, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know, I just thought . . . I thought—”

“That what? That I’d run off with him, too? So you came charging in like a bull?”

Her words jolt me and I’m tongue-tied for a moment. “You know?”

“Doesn’t everyone who works for you? I mean, you keep his office locked up like it’s radioactive, you stiffen at the sight of him, and avoid any mention of him. Yes, Hudson, I know enough.” She pauses. “I know that some of the staff went with him, as did . . .” she clears her throat, “as did your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend now.” Those words leave my lips faster than I thought possible.

“Okay.” Kavi shifts on her feet, her orange boots sprinkled and muddy from her stroll.

I take the platter from her hands because it looks uncomfortable and heavy. “I’m sorry. Again. Forgive me?”

She wraps her arms around her chest, and I try my best not to drop my eyes to the way her breasts lift under her blazer. I try, but fail. “I’ll think about it.”

I nod. “That’s fair. Perhaps there’s something I can do to hurry you along?”

Her gaze shifts to her right before she bites the corner of her lip. I can’t take my eyes off the movement and that tiny diamond I’ve become so fucking fascinated with. “Well, I was coming to grab dinner at this bakery. You could join me.”

My brows draw up. “Ah, so you weren’t running away from your monstrous boss. You were merely getting dinner.”

She tilts her head. “Let’s not misconstrue; I was most definitely running away from my monstrous and beastly boss, but I was also hungry. I was going to find a way to forgive him while stuffing my face with their clam chowder and sourdough bread.”

“Beastly. Ouch.”

She tries not to smile at my feigned hurt expression, but it breaks free, anyway. “Only in the biblical sense, not physically.”

“Well, that makes me feel better.” I lean in, knowing I’m flirting and knowing that she’s flirting back. Knowing how much trouble we could get into if we don’t stop right this second. “So, physically, what are your thoughts about this boss of yours?”

“My thoughts?” She holds my gaze, clearly thinking about her next words. “My thoughts are definitely not of the good variety.”

Yeah, mine neither.