12. Faith
“Whoa, hey! You okay?”
Warm, masculine fingers tightened on my upper arm kept me upright, and I swallowed thickly.
But he was here. Hudson was right here. Touching me.
I glanced down at his hand in awe as he pulled his fingers away, and the loss of them almost made me want to weep.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked, blinking up at him as if I feared he was going to disappear at any moment.
Except he didn’t. Instead, he sent my hormones aflame by grinning devilishly and spreading his arms open. “What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite stalker?”
Behind the bar, Iesha choked out a surprised cough.
Lifting a curious eyebrow her way, Hudson tipped up his head in greeting. “Hey. How’re you doing?”
“You—I—” Clearly not prepared to speak to a hottie on his level, she settled for mumbling, “Hi.”
His smile grew amused before he returned his attention to me. “So I tried calling,” he started. “But they said you didn’t come in until five, and I thought, hey, I’ll just pop by, right?”
I shook my head, completely confused. “What?”
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning.” Rolling his hands as if to reverse the conversation, he added, “Howdy. I don’t know if you remember me, but I was here last night with my friends, and you were our waitress.”
I blinked at him in disbelief.
“I found you passed out in the bathroom, lying next to a puddle of your own vomit,” I said. “I remember you.”
“Right.” He winced. “I heard about that.” Clearing his throat, he snatched up a red Calamity’s napkin from a stack on the bar and started to fold and roll and shape it, his crafty fingers flying as he worked.
“So I would like to officially apologize for all the inconvenience I caused you. I promise I was aspiring to throw up on one of my buddies and make them clean me, but…”
He shrugged and sent Iesha a grateful glance when she at least laughed at his explanation. Then he returned his gaze to me. “I really didn’t mean to put you through so much of a headache.” Grabbing a stir stick from Iesha’s caddy full of bar fixings, he stabbed it through the center of his folded creation and then extended it to me in offering. “Do you forgive me?”
I blinked down at the rose he’d made in thirty seconds, with a stem and everything, and warmth flooded my chest. But, gah, did this guy ever stop being so mesmerizing?
“Uh, I guess,” I answered lamely as I reached out a hesitant hand to take the rose from him.
He brightened. “Great. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d wanted to hold it against me forever. But thank God you’re the forgiving type.”
When Iesha set my finished Long Island iced tea next to the Heineken and Busch Light, he reached out smoothly and lifted the whole tray into his arms.
“Hey, is this what you were waiting for? Let me carry it for you.” With a quick pause, he lowered it to show me all the contents. “We got everything, right?”
I shook my head, trying to catch up with his whirlwind personality. “You really don’t have to carry my tray for me.”
But when I started to reach for it, he swiftly swiveled it out of my way without upsetting a single cup. “Nonsense. I have more to ask you, and you’re busy, so I might as well help out while I’m taking up your time. Which way?”
I sent him a short, irritated frown before I remembered there was something I’d wanted to discuss with him too. So I reluctantly grumbled, “Oh, all right. Follow me.”
“Sweet!” He readily obeyed and stayed a step behind me as I turned and started off. I discreetly tucked my rose into my pocket as I went.
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what the heck I’d wanted to say to him, though. I knew it was important. But with him here, right up in my grill, invading all my senses, my mind emptied of everything except how surreal this was to be close to him again, actually interacting with him.
“Wha-what did you want to talk about?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Yeah, so… I think I left my watch here last night. You didn’t by chance see it lying around anywhere, did you?”
I stumbled a step in surprise. And with a sick feeling deep in my stomach, I turned to face him. “Your watch?”
He nodded. “It’s a black and silver Gucci Dive. Retails at about sixteen hundred dollars.”
“Sixteen…” My eyes flared. But holy damn. He definitely wore a lot of money on his wrist.
“I called earlier, and someone checked lost and found for me,” he went on. “But they didn’t find anything, so I was hoping maybe you’d possibly, hopefully, seen it somewhere.”
“I…” With a wince, I regretfully confessed, “Yes, you left it here.”
“I did?” Shoulders slumping with relief, he lifted the free hand he wasn’t using to balance my tray to clutch his chest. “Oh, thank God. You have no idea how good it is to hear that.”
I swallowed thickly and tried not to reveal my guilt with a cringe. Not really able to keep it in, however, I whirled away so he couldn’t see my expression, and I hurried toward the table awaiting their drinks.
Hudson followed without a fuss.
As soon as we reached the customers, he immediately took over. “Alright, fellas,” he called cheerfully as he swirled the tray down to their level in a grand flourish to display the goods. “We got some drinks here you might like. First up is this homely-looking Heineken. Claim it quick before it goes in the trash…where it belongs.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with Heineken?” One of the three asked, clearly offended.
With a wink, Hudson grinned at the guy and set the bottle in front of him. “Nothing. I just like messing with people. Now…” He lifted the draft next. “We have this pale ale. What is this?” Taking a big whiff, he grimaced and guessed, “Milwaukee?”
“Busch Light,” he was told by another.
“Ah. Damn, I’m batting oh for two here,” Hudson shot back with good-natured ease as he set the Busch Light in front of the guy who’d claimed it. “So I’m not even going to hazard a guess as to what the fuck this is, and I’m just going to give it to you, man. You good with that?”
Thoroughly entertained, the third customer laughed and accepted his Long Island iced tea. After he took a sip to make sure it was right, he smiled proudly and gave Hudson a thumbs-up. “It’s perfect.”
“Great,” Hudson cheered and propped the now-empty tray against one hip negligently before he set his other elbow on my shoulder and leaned toward me to include me in the conversation. “Because I was gonna make you take it up with our lovely waitress, Faith, here, if I’d fucked everything up, since I don’t even work here.”
The three chuckled, and heat wound through my chest. But why did he have to be so damn personable and good with people? That was not making me abhor him in the least.
The man needed some bad qualities to repel me once and for all. And quickly. Because my crush was only growing worse every minute longer that I was stuck in his charming company.
“Y’all ready to order yet or do you need a few minutes to think?” I asked.
Two of them were ready, but one guy had a question about the tips.
“Tips? No, no,” Hudson cut in. “I’ll tell you what you need to try.” Then he glanced at me. “What the hell did I eat here last night? It was some kind of hamburger, right?”
I lifted a dry, non-impressed eyebrow, even though secretly I thought he was cute as hell. “It was the Calamity special.”
“Yes.” Snapping his fingers, he pointed at the customer. “You need to try that shit. I’m telling you, you won’t regret it.”
So he talked the customer into getting the special and convinced one of the others to change their order to that as well.
“Hey, that was kind of fun,” he told me when we started away from them a few minutes later.
I sent him a dismayed glance, wondering what he usually did for fun.
“It’s a lot more exciting out here in the front of the house than back in the kitchen where I’m always stuck, anyway.”
Lifting my eyebrows in surprise, I said, “You work at a restaurant too?”
He nodded. “Yep. I’m a commis chef.”
Which was a fancy word for junior chef.
He must work at one of those posh places with a kitchen brigade that only millionaires could afford to frequent.
With a snort, I taunted, “So, you’re a fry cook.”
“We like to call it a friturier,” he corrected, determined to keep it sounding classy. “But basically…yes. I peel a mean potato.”
I laughed.
“Which reminds me,” he went on. “About that watch.”
Shit.
“Where is it again?” He glanced around as if he expected to spot it nailed to the wall.
“I… Well…” Ugh. How was I going to talk my way out of this one?
Hudson glanced at me with lifted eyebrows. “Yes?”
“I—it was really dirty,” I blurted. “You kind of got some, um, some of your vomit on it. So I—I took it home to clean it before getting it back to you.”
“You…” His eyebrows rose slowly. “Took it home?”
I nodded and noticed one of my customers trying to make eye contact with me, clearly needing something. So I brushed past Hudson to hurry that way.
They were ready to go and wanted their check, so I told them I’d get right on that before scooping up some of their empty plates—with Hudson surprising me by helping and taking an armful too—and then telling a new couple being seated that I’d be right with them.
And as I hurried the dirty plates back to the dishwasher, Hudson dogged my heels. “So my watch is at your place right now?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” he drew out slowly, then unloaded his armful of plates next to where I’d put mine. Dusting his hands off on his hips, he glanced at me. “Well… I kind of need it back. Like tonight.”
“Okay,” I mimicked and lifted my brows at him before glancing around the restaurant. “But I’m sort of working right now.” Then I turned to fetch the receipt for Table 8 before piling complimentary chips and dips onto a tray and hauling ass back onto the floor.
Hudson stuck to me like glue, not deterred. “When do you clock out?”
“At one,” I answered shortly before smiling at the table as I gave them their receipts. “Take your time,” I told them and then promptly delivered the tray of chips to the newbies. “Hey, y’all. Welcome to Calamity’s. Can I start you out with some drinks?”
The man wanted a Blue Moon, but when the woman took too long to decide, Hudson asked, “Have you ever tried the fruit-infused peach tea here? My buddy’s girlfriend swears by it.”
“Really? Okay. That sounds good.” Pointing at me, she said, “I want that.”
Of course, she did.
I wasn’t sure how he did it, but Hudson clearly had some kind of magic power to coax people into craving whatever he suggested. It kind of made me irritably jealous.
I wanted to be as smooth, friendly, and approachable as he was.
“But one in the morning isn’t really going to work for me,” he said as we started away from the table.
“Then I guess it sucks to be you,” I shot back unsympathetically, smiling at someone when they waved me down to ask for another fork because they’d dropped theirs. “Sure thing, hon.” I touched the man’s shoulder in acknowledgement before hurrying away.
“I don’t think you understand,” Hudson carried on as soon as I was free again. “I really need that watch.”
“But some of us have to work for a living,” I countered harshly before taking the payment book from Table Eight and heading toward the bar.
“I could go get it myself,” he offered pleadingly. “Just let me borrow your keys for, like, half an hour, and I’ll take care of everything. Easy peasy.”
I snorted. “Nice try, buddy.”
“Hey, you can trust me on this,” he countered. “This is my livelihoodwe’re dealing with. I’m not going to risk my own future by going out of my way just to fuck you over somehow.”
“Your livelihood?” I repeated, sending him a disbelieving glance as we reached the bar. But Iesha was busy on the phone. So, as I paused to wait on her, I rested my back against the counter so I could cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes at Hudson. “Please.”
“Oh, you don’t believe me, huh?” He lifted his eyebrows and slid onto the stool next to me, making himself at home. “Alright. Well, maybe this story will convince you. You see, once upon a time, there was this boy. We’ll call him Hudson. He was kind of an aimless drifter, had no goals for the future but wanted to go to college anyway to hang out with his friends.”
I scoffed at that, already picturing his spoiled, rich ass lying on a floaty in his infinity pool, contemplating what party to attend next when his buddy mentioned college, so he shrugged and answered, Sure, why not? I don’t have any decent plans for the next four years.
But Hudson threw me for a loop when he said, “He didn’t come from money, had the most fucked up set of parents who lived on either side of the state, and was still recovering from a shit ton of really bad decisions he’d made earlier in his life, but he’d somehow made decent enough grades to get into HaveU and go ball’s deep in student loans.”
When I blinked at him and dropped my crossed arms down to my sides, Hudson nodded, letting me know he spoke the truth.
“The first problem came when he had no idea what the hell to major in. Business didn’t interest him. Neither did teaching, English, or history. So he changed majors, like, once a month for that first year, getting his general ed courses out of the way, until he hooked up with this chick one night who was a culinary major.”
I rolled my eyes and huffed out a disgusted breath, determined not to be jealous…even though I was super jealous of the slutty ho-bag Betty Crocker, anyway.
“And he thought…culinary school? Huh? Hell, why not give it a try? He liked food. So he took a class, and holy shit. It just felt…right. From there, he dove into the culinary world, where by some miracle he got a job at the most upscale, ritzy restaurant in town.”
My stomach dropped, and I suddenly realized which restaurant he worked for. And now I knew how he’d met his girlfriend too.
“Poor bastard thought he’d finally made it, right?” Hudson sent me a grimace, telling me that was far from the truth. “His foot was in the door, and his future was set. All he had to do was not fuck it up, and he’d be in, you know. Until… He was minding his own damn business one evening in the kitchen, peeling potatoes, when the owner’s daughter just happened to walk through and see him.”
Hudson shrugged even as he sent me another miserable glance. “She must’ve liked what she saw, I guess—I don’t really fucking know—because in the next moment, she was coming on hard and asking him out, while every single one of his coworkers was standing behind her, warning him over her shoulder to never upset the owner’s daughter. So he says yes in order to not upset her. And now—two extremely long months later—he’s still stuck saying yes to every fucking thing she wants, just so he can keep his position at work secure, steer his future in the right direction to make it big in the restaurant world, and get himself out of this hundred-grand debt he’s currently in for school tuition.”
“Holy shit,” I breathed. It was shocking enough to learn so much about him all at once and realize how wrong I’d been about so many things. But the one detail I was most stuck on was, “So… You don’t even like Genesis?”
Hudson lifted his eyebrows. “I don’t recall mentioning her name.” Then he slowly swiveled his head to tip in the other direction and pointed as if he was either warning me or congratulating me. “Damn, woman, you really are stalking me, aren’t you? Just how bad do you have it for me, anyway?”
“I don’t—oh my God. I’m not stalking you,” I swore with two lifted hands. “Literally, the only thing I knew about you before last night was that you walk her to class every day and make out with her, hot and heavy, before moseying off, on your way again. I didn’t even know your fucking name until your friends told me at your birthday party.”
“Ah.” He shrugged, letting me know it still made no difference to him. “So anyway, Gen likes to give me nice shit to—I really don’t know why—to claim her ownership or something. And if I’m not wearing that watch tomorrow when I have to meet her for brunch, everything is ruined. You got me? There will be questions. Suspicions. Maybe accusations. Anger. And none of those are emotions I can afford to experience from her. I just can’t. My future rides on her happiness.”
My mouth fell open. But I just couldn’t believe this.
He’d been fucked over by her too. The same as me. I mean, in different ways, obviously but we were both definitely trapped in our current existences because of her.
“I just need to keep her clueless and pacified until she grows bored and moves on,” Hudson swore.
But I sniffed heavily in disagreement. “But if you’re keeping her satisfied, what makes you think she’ll want to move on?”
His eyebrows crinkled into a frown that made my hormones absolutely sizzle. “Trust me, darlin’, I’m being as dry and boring with her as I can possibly be.”
“Honey,” I shot right back, lifting my eyebrows severely. “You could stand there, just breathing, and you’d still never be boring.”
“Hey, cut it out,” he told me mildly as he nudged at my arm, right before a mischievous grin slipped out. “Too many compliments like that are going to turn me into a conceited ass.”
I huffed out an impatient breath and shot a glance toward the ceiling, seeking restraint.
In front of me, Hudson slipped his hands casually into his pockets and jingled the change inside. “So about those keys to your place,” he reminded me.
With a groan, I closed my eyes and muttered, “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” even as I shoved a hand into my pocket and extracted my apartment key which was also connected to my car keys.
I opened my eyes to Hudson’s face lighting up like an airstrip.
“Oh my God, Faith.” He damn near vibrated with relief and excitement as he held out a hand. “Thank you so much. You have no idea?—”
“You go straight there and straight back,” I cut in, not caring about his gratitude since I was already regretting this. “And the key comes back to me personally, no one else. You understand? Don’t just drop them off with the front hostess. You put them back into this hand.”
When I showed him my palm, he pointed. “Only that hand? Or will either do?”
When he motioned to my other palm which still had a firm hold on my keys, I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t be a smartass with me, Ivey. Do you want these keys or not?”
“I do,” he assured as he lifted one hand into the air by his head and then pressed the other to his chest solemnly as if taking a vow. “No smartass here, I assure you. My mama can attest to that. She told me my ass was as dumb as they came everyday while I was growing up.”
I scowled at him for making me feel pity—because what kind of bitch said that to her own son—while I was in the middle of being hard and stern. Then I showed him my palm again. “Give me your phone. You’ll need my number in case you’re in a car accident or have to tinkle or are waylaid in any way.”
Hudson grinned at me and lifted his eyebrows, even as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Smooth way to get your prey’s digits, Stalker. I’m impressed.”
He readily plopped the phone into my hand, though, and my flesh tingled against the warmth radiating from it—warmth that had come straight from his body.
I swallowed thickly, then scowled at him. “Don’t you think you’re taking the stalking joke too far?”
“What?” He gasped as if I’d wounded him. “Never. I find it highly entertaining.”
“It was funny, like, not even the first time,” I muttered dryly, only to grind my teeth irritably when I came across the lock screen. Tired of playing around, I lifted the phone toward him so his facial recognition would open it.
Once in, my fingers shook as I dialed my own number.
When I felt the vibration from my phone against my hip, where it was nestled in my pocket, I hung up and handed his back.
Hudson looked amused as he took it, and when he just kept standing there as if he was still waiting for something, I scowled. “What?”
A husky chuckle slipped out. Then he lifted his brows and reminded me, “Keys, please.”
“Dammit,” I hissed, already having forgotten about them. Reluctantly, I handed them over, warning as I did, “Remember, I can’t get home tonight if you don’t bring these back. This is access to my car and my apartment that you’re taking.”
“I’m bringing them back,” he assured. “Now…where’s your place, and where inside is the watch?”
Right. Ugh. He probably needed to know that.
“Ever heard of Jezebel’s Nest?” I asked. “It’s a?—”
“Voodoo shop on the Adobe Strip near the boardwalk,” he finished for me. “Yeah, yeah. I know the place. Lost my virginity to a girl who worked there once.”
Of course he had.
Grinding my molars past that unfortunate bit of information, I told him, “It’s not a voodoo shop. It’s a—” Lifting my hands, I cut myself off. “You know what. Never mind. My place is directly above Jezebel’s. The steps leading up to my apartment are in the alley out back. Watch out for stray cats and vagrants. They like to camp out on the staircase.”
He nodded steadily as I talked. “Okay. And the watch?”
I winced because, dammit, he was going to have to go into my bedroom. “On the nightstand next to my bed.”
Eyebrows lifting in interest, he whistled. “Ooh. You just had to sleep next to something of mine, huh? I get why you took it home now. That’s okay, though. You do you, darlin’.”
“That is not why I took it home,” I ground out irritably. “I told you, I wanted to clean it before getting it back to you.”
“Mm-hmm,” he murmured, nodding in a way that told me he didn’t believe a word I said. “And how did you plan on getting it back to me exactly, since you aren’t supposed to know anything but my name?”
I felt my face flame hot with embarrassment. When he arched his brows, I narrowed my eyes at him for putting me in this awkward moment. “I figured I’d catch you Monday morning, where you were sure to be in front of my Stats class, sucking out your girlfriend’s tonsils, per your usual.”
His jaw worked for a moment as he watched me. Then he murmured, “Yeah, I probably will be there to give her one last pinch for good luck, won’t I?”
I physically shuddered, sickened by the idea of his fingers pinching anything on her.
Then I got back on track and pointed sternly at him. “Just…bring my keys back, will you?”
“I will. I swear.”
When he saluted me with military precision, I rolled my eyes and glanced around at the restaurant surrounding us. “Fuck.” I pressed a palm to my forehead. “I forgot what I was doing.”
“Fork for Table Four,” Hudson filled in readily. “Blue Moon and peach tea for Nine. And make change for Eight’s receipt.”
I scowled at him, hating how well he did that because I was jealous of his memory.
He smiled back as he lifted my keys to wave them at me in farewell. “I’ll be back,” he assured before winking. “But miss me while I’m gone, huh?”
And with that, he turned away to stroll off. I sighed miserably at his retreating backside because I think I missed him already.