Chapter 9
Mari To The Rescue
MARI
Hudson’s thumb brushed across my lower lip, and time seemed to stop. The fire crackled in the background. His eyes darkened as they dropped to my mouth, and I leaned toward him as if he were a magnet.
Just a couple more inches...
My phone shattered the moment, blaring “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé. I jerked back, the spell broken.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, scrambling to my feet. “I should get that.”
Hudson ran a hand through his hair, nodding as he leaned back against the couch. “Of course.”
I fumbled for my phone, my heart still racing. Anica’s name showed on the screen, and I took a deep breath before answering.
“Hey Ani, what’s up?”
“Mari! Good news. Devonna and I booked flights to Chicago! We’ll be there in two weeks to check on the expansion.” Anica’s voice was bright. “I can’t wait to see how much progress you’ve made.”
“That’s... great,” I said, glancing back at Hudson, who had started cleaning up our s’mores supplies, his back to me. “When exactly will you be here?”
As Anica rattled off dates and plans, I tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting back to what had almost happened. What would have happened if my phone hadn’t rung? Would I have kissed Hudson? Would he have kissed me?
And why the hell did the word professional seem to stop existing as a concept when the two of us were together?
“Mari? Are you listening?” Anica’s voice snapped me back.
“Sorry, yes. Got it.” I scribbled the dates on a nearby notepad. “I’ll book you guys at the Palmer. You’ll love it.”
“Perfect! And we want to see everything—the office, all the work you’ve done for the Kussikov-Martin wedding, your other current projects, all the things!” Her voice softened. “And I want to see you, of course. It’s been too long.”
“I miss you too,” I admitted. “It’ll be good to catch up.”
After promising more details via email, I hung up and turned to find Hudson arranging kindling for tomorrow morning’s fire. Damn, his backside looked good in firelight.
“Anica and Devonna are visiting in two weeks,” I explained, trying to sound casual. “Checking on the Chicago expansion.”
He nodded without looking up. “That’s nice. You must miss them.”
“Yeah.” An awkward silence fell between us. What exactly were we supposed to say after almost kissing? Sorry I almost ruined our professional relationship by putting my lips on your face?
“We should probably get some rest,” Hudson finally said, standing and brushing his hands on his pants. “Early start tomorrow.”
“Right. Absolutely.” I nodded too enthusiastically. “Venues to see. Decisions to make.”
“Night, Landry.”
“Sweet dreams, Gable.”
As I closed my bedroom door behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes.
What the hell was happening to me? This was Hudson Gable—uptight, controlling, perfectionist Hudson.
The man who’d once held me in a headlock after tormenting me all day.
The man who had spent many weeks trying to undermine me to get the rights to plan the wedding.
He was also the man who’d carried me to bed when I was drunk and hadn’t taken advantage. The man who’d sung along to my playlists, albeit begrudgingly.
The man was trouble.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of venue tours, discussions that turned into debates, and carefully maintained distance.
We both seemed determined to pretend the almost-kiss had never happened, throwing ourselves into work instead of facing the awkward conversations that would inevitably have to come, but would definitely be future Hudson and Mari’s problem. Procrastination at its finest.
We selected Lakeside Manor for the welcome dinner—my first instinct had been right—and spent Sunday morning finalizing details with the manager before driving back to Chicago.
We used the car ride to discuss more wedding details, and for the last half we listened to his boring playlist. It actually wasn’t as bad as I had initially thought.
By the time Hudson dropped me at my apartment, the weird tension had mostly dissipated, replaced by our usual working rapport. Which was good. Professional. Appropriate.
And also extremely disappointing.
Two weeks passed too quickly.
“I can’t believe this is the same Mari Landry who called Hudson Gable—and I quote—‘a robotic control freak with a ruler up his ass.’” Anica smirked at me over her coffee cup as we watched Hudson chat with Devonna across the restaurant.
“People change,” I muttered, stealing a bite of Anica’s croissant. “And I never said that.”
“You absolutely did. On at least three separate occasions.” She snatched her plate back. “Get your own pastry, thief.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. Having Anica and Devonna in Chicago felt like home, even if they were determined to tease me mercilessly about my newfound ability to work with Hudson.
“He’s not that bad once you get to know him,” I admitted. “We balance each other out professionally.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Anica’s knowing look made me squirm. “Professionally. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Shut up,” I hissed, glancing to make sure Hudson hadn’t heard. “It’s not like that.”
“The way he looks at you says otherwise.” She popped the last bite of croissant into her mouth with a smug expression.
Before I could respond, Devonna and Hudson rejoined us, both looking pleased.
“Hudson was just telling me about that incredible starlight ceiling you designed for the Kussikov-Martin wedding,” Devonna said, sliding back into her seat. “It sounds amazing. I can’t believe you never mentioned it.”
“It’s still in the planning stages,” I said, relieved to discuss work instead of my nonexistent love life. “Hudson deserves most of the credit for making sure it actually happened.”
“Hardly,” Hudson interjected. “The constellation mapping was entirely Mari’s idea. I just handled the logistics.”
I glanced at him, surprised by the generous attribution. Since when did Hudson Gable share credit so easily?
“Well, it sounds incredible,” Anica said, patting my wrist across the table. “We should consider something similar for this wedding we have in the Hamptons next spring, don’t you think, D?”
The conversation shifted to Knot Your Average Wedding and eventually to the expansion plans, but I kept sneaking glances at Hudson, puzzled by his uncharacteristic deference. He caught me looking once and smiled. Actually smiled. For me. What the hell?
“…Because of Garrett.” Devonna’s words pulled me out of my head.
“Is that the security specialist you’ve been boinking?” I asked, sipping my coffee.
Devonna wrinkled her nose, pushing a tightly wound curl out of her face. “I hate you used that word.”
“Sorry,” I said, giving her a saccharine smile. “Is that the security specialist you’ve been fucking?”
Anica kicked me under the table, and Hudson hid a grin behind the rim of his coffee mug. “Manners, Mari.”
I shrugged. “Dev doesn’t mind.”
Rolling her eyes, Devonna chuckled. “Yes. Garrett is my friend, and I may occasionally take part in steam-releasing activities with him. But the point is, he’s offered to help with the security for the Kussikov-Martin wedding if you and Hudson would like his help.”
“We’ll discuss it later. Thank you, Devonna.” Hudson spoke, but his attention remained on me. It made me want to squirm in my seat.
“Yeah, what he said. Don’t you have a consultation this afternoon, Gable?” I sent a pointed look towards the clock hanging on the wall. “Shouldn’t you be leaving soon?”
“Trying to get rid of me?”
“Yes,” I said with an evil grin directed towards Devonna and Anica. “There are some terribly impolite topics I’d like to discuss with my friends, unless you’d like to stick around while I ask how many times and in what specific positions Callan nailed Ani before she left.”
“I’m out. Nice meeting you, Ms. Onai, and seeing you again, Mrs. Burkhardt,” Hudson said, jumping to his feet. “Good luck.” He nodded to Devonna and Anica before glaring at me. I gave him the one-finger salute with my favorite finger, which he returned over his shoulder as he left.
I spent the rest of the day in a whirlwind of office tours (I hadn’t done much to the office space Anica had gotten because I’d spent so much time in the shared office with Hudson, which I also showed her and Devonna), venue visits, and catching up.
By evening, I was exhausted but happy to have my friends in town, even if their knowing looks whenever I mentioned Hudson were getting annoying.
We were saying our goodbyes outside the restaurant when my phone buzzed with a text from Hudson.
Hey. Sorry to bother you while you’re with your friends, but I’m sort of having an emergency with my appointment right now.
The client wants to see the Royal Gardens mock-ups today instead of next week.
I didn’t bring that portfolio. Are you near the office by any chance?
If not, that’s fine. I just wondered if you would mind grabbing it and swinging by the appointment to drop it off.
“Shit,” I muttered. “Hudson has a client emergency.”
Anica grinned. “Go handle it. We’ll meet for brunch tomorrow before our flight.”
I thanked them both, hugged them, and hopped in my car. I wasn’t close to the office, but I didn’t mind swinging by. I don’t know why I didn’t mind. I don’t know why I was helping my so-called rival. I don’t know why my tummy did a pathetic little flip at the thought of seeing him again.
Thanks to evening traffic, it took me longer to get to the office and then to the address he had texted me. But I finally got there and found Hudson sitting with a middle-aged woman and who I assumed was her daughter.
“Here’s your portfolio,” I said in a bright tone, handing it to Hudson. “Sorry it took me so long. Traffic was a bitch.”
“Perfect timing,” he said, coughing at the same time I swore. Hudson clearly knew me too well. “Mrs. Voto, Camille, this is my… colleague, Mari Landry.”