Chapter 8
HUDSON
The sound of my shower running woke me.
For a moment, I stared at my bedroom ceiling, disoriented. Then the memories of last night flooded back—the engagement party, Lia and Manny’s proposal, Mari’s drunken antics, and that moment when she’d called me “Daddy” with those innocent, mischievous eyes.
I groaned, throwing an arm over my face. What the hell was I doing?
The shower shut off, and I tensed. I should get up. Make coffee. Act normal. But the thought of facing Mari in the harsh light of morning after last night’s... intensity seemed daunting even for me.
Before I could talk myself into moving, my bedroom door cracked open.
“Hudson?” Mari’s voice was soft, tentative. “Are you decent?”
I sat up, pulling the sheets higher despite being fully clothed in the t-shirt and sweatpants I’d slept in. “Yes.”
She peeked around the door, looking younger and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. Her blonde hair was wet and slicked back, and she wore only my shirt from last night, the hem hitting mid-thigh. The sight of her in my clothing sent an unexpected wave of possessiveness through me.
“Morning,” she said, fidgeting with the hem. “Sorry to wake you. Do you have a hairdryer? If I don’t, my hair goes all frizzy, and then I look like I belong in a different decade and—”
“Cabinet under the sink.”
“Already looked. Just found an impressive collection of skin care products.”
“The other cabinet.”
She nodded. “Thanks. And, um... thank you for last night. For not letting me, you know...”
“Make a drunken mistake?” I supplied.
“Yeah.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “That.”
We stared at each other for a moment. She really pulled off the rumpled-just-woke-up-with-a-likely-hangover-and-still-wet-from-the-shower look.
“Coffee?”
“Please. I’ll just...” She gestured vaguely toward the bathroom. “Hair.”
I nodded, and she disappeared, closing the door behind her. I exhaled slowly, trying to recalibrate. This wasn’t how I’d expected to start my day; with Mari in my apartment, wearing my clothes, looking soft and sleepy and beautiful.
By the time she emerged with dry hair and slightly more composure, I had coffee brewing and was scrambling eggs in the kitchen.
“Your apartment is ridiculous,” she announced, sliding onto a barstool at my counter. “In a good way. Very fancy, but not obnoxious about it.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“You know what I mean.” She accepted the mug of coffee I slid toward her with a grateful nod. “This is just so... you.”
“And what am I exactly?”
She took a sip, considering. “Precise. Expensive but not flashy. Everything in its place, but not sterile.” Her eyes met mine over the rim of her mug. “More depth than expected.”
Something about her assessment made me uncomfortable; like she could see more of me than I wanted to reveal.
“Do you remember your address yet?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Yup,” she recited it with a smirk. “My memory returned along with my sobriety.”
“Convenient.”
“Indeed.” She watched me cook, an amused expression playing on her face. “So, about that proposal from Lia and Manny...”
And just like that, we were back to business. The shift was almost jarring.
“What about it?” I placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.
“Are we doing it?” She dug into the food, crumbs flying from her mouth as she spoke. “Working together?”
I leaned against the counter, considering her question. Working with Mari would mean spending more time with her, which seemed both appealing and dangerous given the electricity that sparked between us. It would also mean continuing my deception about the Modern Wedding feature under her nose.
But turning it down would mean losing the opportunity to plan a high-profile celebrity wedding; the kind that could cement my reputation independent of my parents.
“I think we should,” I said finally. “We’ve proven we can work together.”
She looked surprised. “Really? I thought you’d be more resistant.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re you, and I’m me,” she said, as if that explained everything. “We don’t exactly have complementary work styles.”
“I disagree.” I took a sip of my coffee. “The engagement party was successful precisely because of our different approaches.”
“My creativity, your control,” she said with a small smile.
“Something like that.”
She studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” She took another bite of egg. “But we need ground rules.”
“Agreed.”
“First, we split everything fifty-fifty. Workload, credit, etc.”
“Of course.”
“Second, we need clear areas of responsibility. You handle the logistics, timelines, vendor contracts. I’ll handle the creative direction, design elements, and general vibe.”
I nodded. It was a sensible division that played to our strengths.
“Third...” She hesitated, and uncertainty flickered across her face. “We keep things professional.”
“Last time you suggested that, I had to take two showers to get tiramisu out of my hair.”
“Yeah, well, we all make mistakes.”
“Okay,” I agreed, ignoring the twinge of disappointment. “Professional.”
“Good.” She nodded once, firmly, as if settling the matter. “Then it’s decided. We’re partners.”
“Partners,” I echoed, extending my hand across the counter.
She looked at it for a moment before placing her smaller hand in mine. Her skin was warm and soft, and I had to resist the urge to pull her closer.
“To a successful partnership,” I said, giving her hand a brief shake before releasing it.
“And a kick-ass wedding,” she added with a grin.
We sealed the deal over breakfast, and an hour later, I drove her home to her apartment. Somehow, the idea of working with her was more intimidating than being her rival.
“Hudson, these vendor quotes are insane.” Mari’s voice pulled me from my concentration a month later. “Two thousand dollars for a sign? Is it made of gold?”
I looked up from my desk to find her leaning in our office doorway, waving a spreadsheet. In the month since we’d begun officially working together on Lia and Manny’s wedding, we’d fallen into a surprisingly effective rhythm. Mari floated between her desk and mine depending on the task at hand.
“It’s what they wanted,” I explained. “Lia wanted it, and Manny approved of the cost.”
“Still ridiculous,” she muttered, but made a note on the spreadsheet. “I wish I were made of money. Maybe I’d have a stupid expensive sign with my name too.”
“You could always write it on your chalkboard.” I pointed to the sign on her desk that still read Rivals Not Welcome.
“It’s not the same.”
“Any progress on the venue they requested for the family dinner?” I asked, refocusing on work.
“Three options, all amazing, all available.” She perched on the edge of my desk, a habit I’d given up trying to break her of. “But we need to decide by end of week, which means we need to see them in person.”
“All three? That’s a lot of site visits to cram in.”
“And they’re all not in Chicago.” She bit her lip. “They’re in Door County. Manny has family there who can’t travel, and they decided it was easier to just do it there.”
I frowned. “Door County is five hours away.”
“Hence, my proposal.” She straightened, slipping into presentation mode. “We drive up Friday afternoon, see all three venues on Saturday, drive back Sunday. One trip, all decisions made, minimal disruption to our schedules. Unless you have other weddings this weekend. I’m clear, surprisingly.”
It was a logical plan. Efficient, even. But the thought of spending an entire weekend with Mari, hours in a car together, possibly staying in the same hotel...
“We could split them up,” I suggested. “You take one, I take two.”
“Doesn’t work.” She shook her head. “According to the couple, we need to see all of them to make a fair comparison, and Lia and Manny want our collective opinion.”
She was right, and we both knew it.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll book the accommodations.”
“Already did.” She slid a confirmation email across my desk. “Peninsula State Lodge. Two rooms, lakefront views, excellent reviews.”
I scanned the email, noting the dates and details. “Looks good.”
“Great!” She hopped off my desk. “Oh, and your phone’s been buzzing for the last five minutes.”
I glanced at my cell phone, seeing three missed calls and a text from Eleanor Trolio. My stomach clenched.
“Everything okay?” Mari asked, clearly noticing my expression.
“Fine,” I said, perhaps too quickly. “I’ll go return these calls.”
She nodded. “I’m heading out to meet with Criss to talk about the floral arrangements for the reception. Need anything while I’m out?”
“No, thank you.”
Once she was gone, I checked the text.
Hudson, we need to talk about your feature. I have an additional opportunity I’d like to discuss. Call me ASAP. - Eleanor
I stared at the message, guilt churning in my stomach. In the month since I’d begun working with Mari, I’d avoided returning to the topic of the Modern Wedding feature, using the excuse that we were focused on Lia and Manny’s wedding. But I was no closer to figuring out how to handle the situation.
With a sigh, I dialed Eleanor’s number.
“Hudson!” Her voice was warm and enthusiastic. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”
“Not at all. Just incredibly busy with the Kussikov-Martin wedding.”
“Ah yes,” she paused. “I assume that’s going well?”
“It is.” I kept my tone neutral.
“Excellent. But that’s not why I called. I’ve been reviewing your app concept for the feature, and I’m incredibly impressed.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “Thank you.”
“So impressed, in fact, that I’d like to offer you a position as creative director for our digital division. We’re expanding our online presence, and your innovative approach to wedding planning technology is exactly what we need.”
I froze. “Creative director?”