16. Hudson
“No,” Genesis told me with a wrinkle of her nose as soon as she opened the door to her apartment. “You are not wearing that to brunch. I mean, are you kidding me right now?”
To keep from saying what I really wanted to, I bowed my head, pretending to be hurt, and I started to turn away as if to leave. “Yes, sorry,” I mumbled, kind of impressed with myself over the whole kicked-puppy act. No way was she going to be able to respect such a weak, passive display of character and want to stay with me now.
But Gen reached out and grabbed my arm, tugging me inside. “Get in here.” With a heavy, disgruntled groan, she added, “I have some clothes for you that I was going to give you to wear to your six-month review with my dad later, anyway, but it looks as if you’re going to have to wear it to brunch too.”
She seemed repulsed by the idea that I’d have to wear the same thing to two different events on the same day. But I was too busy blinking at her in alarm as she drew me inside to care about that. “You bought me clothes? Genesis, really. You don’t have to keep buying me?—”
“Obviously, I do,” she countered, completely unconcerned about what I wanted. “I mean, look at you. You’re a hopeless mess. The only thing you honestly have going for you is the fact that you’re hot as hell. And maybe this hair…if you actually knew how to take care of it.”
When she reached up and grabbed a hunk of my hair, I clenched my jaw in an effort to remain still and not pull away.
“Honestly, do you have any products in this at all?”
I opened my mouth but then paused, fairly certain shampoo wasn’t a valid answer to that question. So I shut my mouth, and Genesis sighed again. “I can’t believe you showed up only five minutes early. I can’t fix you with that kind of time to work with.”
“But I thought you liked being late to places,” I said as she dragged me through her apartment like a misbehaving child.
“To make an appearance, yeah,” she argued. “But not after being rushed. I hate being rushed. God…” Lifting my hand to grimace at my fingernails, she muttered, “These hands are such a disaster. It’s too bad we can’t get you into my manicurist.”
“You didn’t seem to mind my hands the other day,” I told her, unable to help myself.
But she ignored the comment, or maybe she just didn’t hear it because she was too busy grousing, “I cannot believe I’ve had to lower myself to someone of your means just to settle a stupid score with?—”
“Say what?” I asked, interrupting her because this was the first time I’d ever heard anything like this cross her lips.
She glanced up in surprise as we entered her bedroom and blinked at me with wide eyes, blatantly caught in the act.
Except she still tried to deflect. “What?”
“What did you mean by that?” I asked slowly. “Settling a score?”
Did she not want to be with me either? Was she only going through the motions, too, pretending to date me so she could…what? Get revenge against someone and settle a score with them? But who? And why? I definitely needed more details.
Genesis only rolled her eyes, however, and fluttered out an unconcerned hand. “Doesn’t matter,” she answered. “After I’m done with you, we’ll be able to foist you off as someone worthy enough to be with me, no problem.”
Worthy enough? For her? I almost snorted aloud.
“Clothes first,” she was saying as she swept a garment bag off her bed and handed it to me. “Then I’ll work on your hair. You’re wearing my watch, right?”
I lifted my arm to show her the watch choking my wrist, and memories of the night before in Faith’s apartment swamped me.
Rearranging her shit had actually been a blast. I hadn’t had that much fun in a long time. And after going through her rooms, I felt the strangest connection to her as if I knew her now.
“Good boy.” Genesis told me as she thrust the bag into my arms and then patted my cheek as if I were a child. “Now, put this on.”
I glanced down into the clear, plastic front, only to pull back in surprise. “A suit? You expect me to wear a suit? To brunch?”
“Hudson,” she said, staring at me as if I were an alien. “We’re going to the Country Club.” When that only caused me to blink dumbly, her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God. Haven’t you been to the Country Club before?”
My brows furrowed. “No.”
“God in heaven,” she breathed, looking horrified as she pressed a palm to her brow. “This is worse than I thought. But okay. No.” She lifted her hands to reassure herself. “I can do this. I My-Fair-Lady-ed Lisette, Faith, and Maya. I can pass you off as a cultured elite from high society too.”
Wait. Had she just said Faith?
“What’re you?—?”
“Just go!” she cut in, jabbing her finger toward the door to her bathroom. “Change. And quickly, please. The Country Club has a dress code, and you can’t break it, or we won’t be let in. I’ll come up with a plan for your hair.”
I squinted at her suspiciously as she turned toward her vanity and pulled open a drawer to remove some hair gel. Then I hissed out a breath and turned away.
This was going to happen no matter what I said, so I shut my mouth and stepped into her bathroom to change.
* * *
Brunch was about ashorrific as I feared it might be.
Alyssa and her boyfriend, Danny, were one of those sickeningly close couples, so every time they kissed, or touched hands, or even glanced at each other longingly, Genesis had to turn to me and mimic the move with more enthusiasm than they’d used.
I rather thought I’d kept up pretty damn well. I’d slid an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to press my temple to hers. I’d set my hand on her knee at just the right moments.
To me, it felt like I nailed it…until I got bitched out half the ride back to her apartment and received a detailed list of everything I’d done wrong.
“I cannot believe you pressed your nasty nose into my hair like that. I spent three hundred dollars at the salon this morning to get it just right.”
“Sorry. I?—”
“And what the hell made you think that joke about the way I drank water was in any way a good idea?”
My mouth opened in bewilderment a good three seconds before I could sputter, “Dan was teasing Alyssa about the tiny bites she takes, and besides, I said your gulping was cute.”
“Well, now they think I’m a freak show, so thanks.”
I seriously doubted that was why they thought she was a freak show. “They don’t?—”
“Next time, I’m just going to make you a script of what to say and do.”
I exhaled heavily and rubbed at my brow. “That would be preferable.” Or better yet, maybe she could not even invite me at all.
One could hope.
The last half of the ride was full of her nitpicking about what Alyssa had said and worn and done throughout the meal.
Glad I was finally off the chopping block, I stopped listening and gazed out the side window until she pulled next to my car that I’d parked a few blocks from her place.
“Thanks for the meal,” I murmured, glancing over at her with a half lift of the lips.
But all she did was squint back at me. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you have fun, baby? Did the hundred and twenty-dollar brunch I fed you not satisfy your impoverished taste buds?”
“No, it was great,” I insisted, only to grip my brow and admit, “I just have a headache.”
She sniffed. “Well, thank God you didn’t act so ungrateful in front of Lys and Danny.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, biting down on the back of my teeth to keep from spitting something snarky back. Reaching for the door handle and beyond ready to escape, I asked, “When do you need the suit back?”
Genesis blinked at me in confusion and then shook her head. “Why would I need the suit back? Do I look like someone who wears suits?”
I lifted my brows, growing as baffled as she was. “You didn’t rent it?”
“Eww.” Her nose wrinkled. “Only poor people rent suits.”
Right.
God, I needed some painkillers.
“Well, thank you for the suit, then.” Opening the door, I added, “I better get to work.”
“Hey,” she called in offense before I could slide into freedom. “No kiss goodbye?”
I swear, the only reason she even asked for one was because she knew I didn’t want my mouth anywhere near hers. And on any other day, I would’ve just sucked it up and frenched her breathless, given her more than she asked for so she’d have no reason to complain, no reason to run to Daddy and get me fired, no reason to ruin my life at all.
But the pressure in my head was so tight that normal Hudson couldn’t come out and play right now, and I glanced back, saying, “I better not. With this headache, I might be coming down with something. Don’t want to infect you too.”
Immediately, she pulled back and gaped at me in horror. “Oh my God. Why didn’t you say something sooner? Get out. Get out!”
“Heard.” Feeling rather triumphant, I swept from the car and sent her a jaunty wave as I shut the door with a flourish.
Barely restraining myself from doing a little dance right there next to her car, I waved through the window and blew her a kiss.
She drove off without a backward glance. And finally, I was free. Until she needed me again, anyway.
There was no time to go home and change before work, so I tugged off the jacket and tie as I opened my car door, then tossed them into the passenger seat.
I kept an extra set of chef whites in a bag in Chastity’s backseat for situations just like this. So as soon as I made it to work and parked in one of the employee spots behind Gusanos, I spent the next few minutes fishing my uniform free and slipping it on, then settling my toque blanche onto my head just right. Then I popped a couple of aspirin and was out of the car, strolling toward the back entrance as if I hadn’t been sneaking around with the boss’s daughter.
In the kitchen, the saucier was laying into her assistant about sautéing a stew with too much pepper.
“That’s it! I can’t work with you,” she announced abruptly, making me—along with everyone else—pause to watch. “Get out of my station.”
“But, Chef…” Her commis chef turned pale and croaked, “Y-you’re firing me?”
“Let’s just switch you out with another station for now,” Alejandro, the sous chef, broke in calmly as he swept onto the scene. “Maybe you’ll be a better fit elsewhere, eh?”
The commis chef exhaled in relief as Alejandro asked the saucier who she’d like to switch her assistant for.
“I want Mackeriel’s commis,” she answered without hesitation. “He’s fast and efficient and actually listens to instructions.”
Mackeriel was the friturier. I nodded over the trade because Mackeriel was a great teacher and would be able to straighten up any struggling commis chef in no time. I should know since he was my direct supervisor.
Oh shit. Wait a second. I was Mackeriel’s commis chef, which meant the saucier wanted me. When every eye in the room swiveled my way, I fell a step back, and my mouth gaped because no words were coming.
But damn. The saucier’s post was the most respected position of all chef de parties. She could report directly to the head chef.
Leaving the friturier and working for her would be a definite step up in my career.
Galvanized forward, I hurried her way, answering, “Yes, ma’am. What do you need from me?”