Chapter 53
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Harper
Samantha's jaw nearly hits the floor when I walk into the office, dropping my purse on my desk like the last few weeks haven't happened.
"She returns," Samantha says, rounding her desk with wide eyes.
"She does. Not for long, though." I keep my voice low. The office is quiet this early, but walls are thin, and ears are everywhere.
Her face drops. "Oh no. He hasn't already fired you? Like the last girl?"
I shake my head. "No. He hasn't. I'm quitting."
I say it with enough confidence to convince both of us.
"Nooooo." She sets her coffee down and presses her hands together like she's praying. "You're the only person I like here, Harper."
I lean in closer. Close enough that nobody else can hear. "Then quit, Sam. Honestly, this place is only going one direction, and it’s no good for anyone who works here. You’re better than this."
She needs to go somewhere that sees her potential.
She blinks. "I might."
I glance up. Hudson's watching me from behind the glass wall of his office. Hands in his pockets. Expression unreadable. I give him a smile and a nod.
"Right. I need to go," I tell Samantha. I grab the resignation letter I printed at my apartment this morning, folded in thirds, and head for his door.
I knock once and walk in without waiting.
He's turned away from me. Staring out the window. The LA skyline stretches behind him, all glass and haze and money, and he stands in front of it like he owns every building on the horizon. Maybe he does.
"Gianna called," he says.
I stop a few feet inside the door. "Oh. Right. So she told you the story's done? She told me this morning."
Hudson turns slowly. His hands come out of his pockets, and he adjusts his cuffs as he stands behind his desk. "I appreciate it. Thank you," he says.
I frown. "For what?"
He chuckles. "Whatever you said to scare her away from printing this and keeping my company involved. I don't want Gianna breathing down my neck. So, this saved me."
My eyes go wide. This isn't what I expected. I came in here braced for a fight. "You're happy?" I ask, needing to hear it confirmed.
"Very. Being tied to a local mafia war isn't exactly the editorial direction I had in mind for this company. Too dangerous. Too unpredictable." He straightens a pen on his desk. "You did well."
I nod. He's right, I suppose. And something about the ease of this is making the hair on the back of my neck prickle, but I push it down. Sometimes things just go smoothly. Sometimes you get lucky.
I close the distance between us, pull the engagement ring from my back pocket, and place it on his desk beside the resignation letter. The diamond clicks against the wood. The paper sits perfectly white next to it.
Two anchors cut loose. Finally. I can almost breathe again.
"What the fuck?" he hisses.
I take a breath. The speech I had planned has been completely forgotten.
"I quit. Both jobs. I got Gianna off your back. I’ve cleaned up your image. I've done enough, Hudson. I want out of everything."
He picks up the ring. Holds it between his thumb and forefinger the way Ace did, but different. Ace held it like evidence, the worst thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. Hudson holds it like a chess piece he wasn't expecting to lose.
He looks at the ring. Then at me. Expressionless in a way that could mean anything.
"No," he says.
"Yes," I counter.
"What do I tell my parents?"
I shrug. "Lie. You're great at it. Tell them I've gone away for work. That we're pushing the wedding to next year. Then once you’ve got the company done, tell them we split up. I had an affair. Broke your heart. You're the victim. You get the sympathy and the company."
He clears his throat. "Wow. Quite the story."
"That is kind of my job."
He looks at me, and for a moment I can't read him at all. My heart hammers in the silence. He picks up the resignation letter. Reads it. Folds it back along the creases and places it on the desk beside the ring.
"Why?" he asks, as if he’s curious.
"Because I don't want to do this anymore. I hate it in LA. I don't enjoy this job the way I thought I would. And I have a life waiting for me somewhere else."
He's quiet. Studies me. I wait for the catch. The clause. The reason this can't be this easy.
"I can lie," he says finally. "Would you object to one final dinner with my parents? Really lay it on thick. Give them a good memory before the story changes. Not yet, just if they get too suspicious."
I take a breath. One more dinner. One more performance. Then I'm done.
"If I have to, I can. I won’t be living in LA.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Just answer my calls, Harper. Don’t ignore me again.”
Holds out his hand, and I just stare at it.
"Then I accept. You can leave today. No notice period," he tells me.
The exit is right there, wide open, and everything I want is on the other side of it. It’s almost too good to be true.
I place my hand in his. He shakes it, and then he steps back and tucks both hands into his pockets again.
"You'll be missed here, Harper."
I give him a small smile. Already backing toward the door. Already breathing easier.
"Thank you, Hudson. I hope you do this company proud for your father. He deserves it."
For a split second, standing in that office with the skyline behind him and the ring sitting on his desk like something discarded, I feel sorry for him. Even if he is a lying, manipulative, deal-making asshole, he's still a man watching the only person willing to play his game walk out the door.
Then I remember who I'm going home to, and the feeling passes.
I walk out. Grab my purse from the desk. Samantha is watching me with her mouth open. I give her a wink and mouth quit while you can. She gives me a thumbs up and looks like she might cry.
I don't look back.
I push through the glass doors into the stairwell and take the steps two at a time because the elevator is too slow for the speed at which I need to leave this building.
I hit the street and the LA sun hits my face and the air fills my lungs, and I keep walking, fast, faster, until I reach my car and slam the door shut behind me.
It's like a weight being cut from my chest. Tears roll down my cheeks. I don't even bother to wipe them.
The first thing I do is call Ace.
He answers fast. Not quite his usual lightning speed. There's a pause before his voice comes through, and when it does, something is wrong.
"Hi, baby." His voice is strained.
I sit up straighter. "Ace? Are you okay?"
He does a sharp inhale, as if he’s trying to pull himself together for me.
"Not really, sweetheart."
My stomach drops. I’ve only ever heard him like this twice in my life. When his mom died, and when we split up.
"What happened?"
He's quiet for a beat too long. I can hear something in the background.
"Ace. Talk to me."
"It's Paulie." His voice cracks on the name. Just barely. A fracture he tries to seal before I hear it, but I hear it. "He's gone, Harper."
The air leaves my car.
"Gone?" I whisper.
"Found him this morning. Stabbed in the fuckin’ back."
Paulie. The one who was part of Sterling Ranch the whole of Ace’s life. Was there with his father. I even remember him from years ago. He wasn’t just part of the ranch; he was part of their family.
"I'm coming home, Ace." My voice doesn't shake. I won't let it. Not right now. Not when he needs me steady. "It's done. I quit. I'm free."
There's a pause. I hear him swallow. Hear the break in his breathing that tells me he's holding on by a thread.
"Now?"
"Now and forever, Acey baby."
Silence on the line. He’s trying so hard not to break, and I just want to get home to him. Tell him it’s going to be okay.
I start the engine. Pull out of the parking garage and call Emma. Because I need to tell her I’m not coming home, for good this time. But I’ll be back up to pack up the rest of my stuff. I don’t even care about it; all I want to do is get back to Sterling Ranch.
And I think deep down, Emma will understand. I told her last night about Ace, about how we are going to make it work, and she squealed with excitement.
The LA skyline shrinks in my rearview mirror, and I don't spare it a single glance. Everything behind me is a lie. Everything ahead of me is real.
I won’t be coming back for the dinner with Hudson’s parents. He can’t make me. We are done.
I’ve sent the name to Gianna. Hopefully, she will get him, and then Hunter can end the trouble on their ranch.
I drive faster.