Chapter Twelve
Scarlett
T here’s panicking. And then there’s this. Doomsday clock level of panic and the clock’s about to set off Armageddon.
I’m exaggerating.
But I’m most definitely in a complete panic that threatens to swallow me whole.
It’s Thursday night and I’m lost.
This is his family.
I didn’t sign up for this.
And that kiss…on top of the other kisses… I didn’t sign up for those, either. While they were glorious, what the hell is going to happen if it goes places?
Because if I’m honest with myself, he’d be able to seduce me with a look. I’m basically ready to rip off my panties for him. That’s not exactly the proudest moment of my life, that admission, but it’s true.
If that happens, I’m going to have to magically get him to his place. Considering our kisses—apart from his lesson at the office—happen outside my not address, I might have to bring him back here.
I shove my icy fingers against my hot face.
What am I thinking? We’re not going to have sex.
I’m living in a fantasy world.
Yes, but I also never thought he’d kiss me and I have to girl scout it. Be ready. Earn a badge.
If something happens, I’m in trouble.
Also, I need an outfit.
“Amber!” I race from my room and into hers, where she’s lounging on her bed reading a book. “I need help.”
“Girl, I could have told you that.” She stops, sitting up. “What do you mean help?”
I can’t tell her the truth. There’s an NDA. There’s the threat that Hudson made.
It’s all very real.
I’m going to have to cram more small lies in.
“Clothes and… There’s a man.”
Her squeal of joy stabs at me for the lie. Okay, there is a man, but it’s not what she thinks. Still, I quickly pick and choose my words, keeping it vague and with just enough information to keep her satisfied for now. I hope. “He has money and he seems nice.”
Even I know that’s lame.
There are a lot of words out there to describe Hudson, but nice is definitely not one of them. A sugar cookie is nice; a sunny, warm day is nice. Hudson is an exquisite martini in a dark, decadent speakeasy.
“Go you, nabbing a rich, mysterious dude, Scarlett.” She’s on her feet and digging about in her closet. “What’s his name?”
Terror grips me, which is completely stupid. I’m a grown woman.
“What I need is a plan and a dress.”
Amber spins to face me, hands on her hips. Her eyes narrow. “Do not tell me he’s married.”
“No!” I cross my heart with my finger. “I’m not that stupid.”
Clearly, I’m some kind of stupid, but not that.
“So why—”
“It’s really new and I don’t know if this is in my head or if there’s something else, but he asked me to go to this thing and…” I drop my voice even though we’re in her bedroom, “I work with him.”
Her eyes widen. “Why didn’t you just say, ‘hey, Amber, I gots me a maybe thing with a rich, hot dude I’m working with’?”
“I thought I did.”
“No, you did not, Scarlett. You did not. Office romances are hot AF, but also frowned upon, and if he’s rich, then you’re not on the same pay level, so there’s an imbalance of power—also frowned upon and also hot as fuck. So, let me find you a dress and then we have to go shopping this weekend.”
My head is spinning. I have no idea where she got the whole office dynamic thing from, but I dismiss it. There’s too much going on and she’s right, it is hot AF. “Shopping?”
“Yes, that thing you do to buy things.”
“I shouldn’t spend money.”
I still need to help my brother, and I haven’t passed the test yet to get Hudson what he wants, and that means I haven’t been paid.
Amber rolled her eyes. “Spending money is your god given right as an American. And it’s fun. You’re going to need some outfits and there are some good places we can go that are affordable.”
“Okay. But help me tonight, first.”
“Deal.”
An hour later, I’m waiting outside the apartment building. I actually got here early enough I chatted with the doorman, and buttered him up with some cookies from the best little bakery near my subway stop.
Not only did Amber pick the dress tonight from her collection, she helped me with a plan in case something happens with Hudson. Which it won’t. But…just in case, we’ve decided to say that I had to stay with my friend out in Brooklyn due to an issue in my apartment.
He’s not going to buy that, but it’s worth a shot, and besides Sarah’s the type to pretend she has more money than she does.
The difference is she actually comes from money and I don’t.
Hudson’s car pulls up and he gets out in a dark suit that makes my mouth water. It’s not black, it’s richer than black, but I can’t say what color it is, exactly, only that it makes him sexy and dangerous and debonair.
He comes to a stop, his gaze moving over me. It’s possessive and it sends a thrill through my flesh.
“I like the color.”
The wine red of the simple silky shift suits me, and the dress looks quality without trying. I don’t own much jewelry, so I’m wearing my studs in my ears and a simple white gold slender bracelet with a little four-leaf clover on it that is the only thing I have of my grandmother.
“Thank you.”
He leads me to the car and the tension and awareness is thick and tight between us as we cut across Manhattan to the Upper East Side to East Seventy-Ninth Street and a beautiful old apartment building with the old servant quarters on the roof.
Hudson obviously knows the place as we waltz in and take an elevator that skips the first twenty floors until we come to the top floor. It opens into a vast room of glamor and money and taste.
We say hello to people, or he does, and then Hudson leads me outside to the wrap-around rooftop that’s more like a deck than anything else. It’s beautifully landscaped and we finally come to stop, taking in the view.
At least I am, because when I turn, he’s looking at me.
My mouth goes dry.
“A breath of fresh air and the stunning view before family time.”
I gloss over the view part of his sentence because it doesn’t mean what my head’s suddenly thrown at me and I get myself ready. “What’s the plan?”
“Look good, stay with me, and act like you’re into me.”
“I’m a good actress,” I say airily. “I should be able to pull that off.”
A low smile hits his mouth. “No one will ever see the struggles.”
“God, no.”
The evening spins out and his mother is the perfect hostess for what’s clearly a fundraiser for a school for the underprivileged. His brothers come over to chat, but they’re all checking me out. And through it, Hudson is a dream.
Attentive, always there, smiling, little touches that border on intimate, and inside hope begins to form. Insane hope, obviously, because I’m not even sure what I’m hoping for except that I’m attracted to him and I think he likes me, too. At least enough to sleep with me.
I don’t go around sleeping with people just because they’re hot, or they want to get their rocks off with me. But the crazy part inside is willing to go for it, no matter what my brain might say. And my brain isn’t saying much, as I think it’s drunk on desire.
Somewhere a quiet little voice says this is what he wants. Me feeling like this is real. But I squash that voice.
The tension between us grows thick, intense, and it crackles in the air and sends heat cascading through me every time he looks at me. And finally, Hudson leans over and says, “Want to get out of here?”
I nod, and I’m not above having fantasies of him having his wicked way with me in the elevator down. He doesn’t and the matronly woman sharing the ride might have something to do with it.
The night is warm and lovely when we get down to the street, and his car pulls up like magic.
The ride to my—Sarah’s—building is short and long and weird and full of anticipation of what’s going to happen next.
He gets out of the car and opens my door and helps me out, and then I turn to him and wait because I’m not going to be the one to kiss him. He leans in. My eyelids flutter shut.
“Goodnight, Scarlett.”
And he’s gone.
I stare after him.
What the hell was that?
Last night I tossed and turned and it took forever to get to sleep.
It’s not like I haven’t been rejected. I’ve been rejected. A lot. But I didn’t expect…that.
The tension had built so high and tight it was at breaking point and I was primed and ready and he just disappeared.
And to top it off, I got to work early this morning and I haven’t seen him at all, and it’s late in the afternoon now.
All my self-righteous indignation has fizzled into mortification and that’s just turned itself into disappointment laced with confusion.
Maybe I got everything wrong.
I draw in a breath and stare at the email I’m writing on the computer and pay it zero attention. At least this means I can get out of here and meet up with my brother like I promised him. I owe him about a million explanations, and I have exactly nothing but tiny lies to offer and that really sucks.
Suddenly my skin pricks all over and a shiver of heat passes through me, and I know without turning that Hudson is there.
“My office.”
I get up and follow and shut the door behind me. “Yes?”
“Sorry, I had meetings all day.”
My heart starts to pick up its pace and beat hard and fast in my chest.
His gaze meets mine and everything is magma hot. “Stay late.”
“I can do that.”
He picks up his tablet, leans against his desk, and doesn’t look at me. “I wasn’t aware that was a multiple choice. Or a question.”
A different kind of heat, miserable and dark, swamps me. “Oh.”
“I’ve got more meetings and I have a big deal, last minute, that’s tricky and I need help.”
My eyes blur for some stupid, idiotic reason. They’re hot, too. And there’s a lump the size of this building in my throat. I stare down at the darkly polished floorboards. “That’s what I’m here for. Your PA. Employee. In every aspect of your life.”
I don’t mean those last words, but they come out. I sound petulant and bitter and maybe it’s because I am right now. Damn it.
“Is something wrong, Scarlett?” he asks, sounding totally bored.
“No. Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” The sarcasm is there now and it hurts. “I was just talking and you ignored me. And, hmmm, let me think? Oh, yes. That other thing you said in that tone.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” He straightens and comes to me, and I’ve blinked away enough tears to look at him and I sort of wish I hadn’t, because he’s breath stealing kind of gorgeous. And I think I hate him. “I remember a few minutes ago when you said you’re just an employee in all aspects of my life.”
“Well, aren’t I?”
“Did you think you’re not?”
I grit my teeth to stop myself saying things, mean things, bad things, regretful things.
“Scarlett?”
“I’m not sure what to think, after—” I snap my mouth shut.
And he just looks at me. “After what? The kiss in my office? Paying you attention last night?”
I glare at him.
“The first was to prove a point and the second was part of the setup.”
I don’t answer.
“Why, Scarlett, you didn’t think this was for real,” he says, “did you?”
I hate him.