Chapter Seven

Instead of going back to the club, I decided to call it a day. Besides, Hudson and I had planned that morning to be home to eat dinner together, and even though the new developments of the afternoon were keeping him at work late, I didn’t want to waste the cook’s efforts.

At the penthouse, I put our dinner trays in the warmer and sat at the dining room table nibbling on my salad while I tried to concentrate on a new book. I’d picked Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D.H. Lawrence, hoping it would help me focus on the romantic and sexual aspects of my life rather than the dread Celia had instilled.

But reading required more attention than I was able to devote to the task. Giving up, I tossed the book on the table. A blank business card poked out between the pages at the bottom. I hadn’t seen it before—throwing the book must have jostled the card from where it was lodged inside. I flipped the book open to the page the card marked and then turned the card over to see if the other side was also blank.

It wasn’t. And the name on the back almost made me drop the card.

With a hand on my chest, I talked myself down from my panic attack. Hudson had ordered the books from Celia and her design company—it was only natural that she’d stick her business card between the pages.

Except the books were new. And the page that the card had marked had a quote highlighted in yellow: “She was always waiting, it seemed to be her forte.”

Had Celia marked that quote? And had she meant it for me or for Hudson? And whoever the intended target was, what did she mean by it?

“Good book?”

I jumped at Hudson’s voice behind me. I’d been too absorbed in the book and Celia’s mark on it to hear him come in.

He leaned down to kiss my neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s not that. Look.” I showed him the card and held the book up for him. “I found this business card in this book—it’s one of the ones you got me. And this quote is highlighted.”

I felt Hudson’s body heating with rage. He crumpled the card in his hand and threw it across the room. “Goddammit!”

“What does it mean?”

“Who knows?” He took a deep breath and reined in his fury. “You know what? Don’t even think about it. That’s what she wants. She wants it to mess with you.” He grabbed the book from me and took it with him to the kitchen. “Have you eaten?”

“I waited for you. It’s in the warmer.” I sat quietly until he returned with our dinner plates. “You took her key away, right?”

Hudson set our plates down. “She didn’t just leave that in your book now. This has to be from before. When she had the boxes delivered.” He disappeared again into the kitchen.

That hadn’t been an answer to my question and his avoidance made me nervous. I waited until he came back, this time with a bottle of wine.

“Hudson—her key?”

“Yes. I took away her key.” He poured me a glass and then one for himself. He had his half finished before I’d even taken one sip. “The day after she made the delivery.”

He hadn’t told me about seeing her then. But I’d seen Celia many times without telling him so I supposed it was fair.

Instead of dwelling on why he’d never mentioned it, I thought about what else he’d said—that she must have put the note in the books before they’d been delivered. There were hundreds of books. How had I happened to find the one with the note? Unless there were more. “So there could be secret notes and messages in all of the books.”

Hudson took another swallow of his wine—a swallow that finished off the glass. “I’ll replace them all.”

“You don’t need to do that.” Truthfully, I was already planning to search them. Curiosity was pretty much my middle name, after all.

Hudson refilled his drink. “I’ll do it anyway.”

He had made up his mind and when he made up his mind, there was no arguing with him.

I glanced at the clock on my phone. It was after eight. “You got home late. Does that mean you came up with ideas on how to deal with her?”

Hudson didn’t look at me as he took a bite of his fish. “I have something in the works,” he said when he’d swallowed. “But I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Um, yes, I do mind. This affects me and I want to know what’s going on.” If he thought he was doing this on his own, he had another think coming.

“You know what you need to know. I’ve hired security, the new cameras are being installed at the club tomorrow, and I have some preliminary ideas to try to make Celia lose interest in her game.” His entire demeanor was dismissive.

And my demeanor was getting pissed off. “Ideas that you aren’t going to share?”

“No. I’m not.”

I set my fork down, a little more forcefully than I’d intended. Or maybe exactly as forcefully as I’d intended. “Hudson—transparency, honesty—remember? Are you hiding something from me? Is it illegal?”

“No. And no. And you said you trusted me.” He raised a brow. “Remember?”

“I do trust you. But we’re supposed to be in this together and this is not together. This is you keeping me in the dark while you go play superhero. Or I assume you’re playing superhero, because I don’t really know.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at me directly. “We are in this together, Alayna. And I’ll tell you. Just not now.” He covered my hand with his own. “I’d rather spend my evening with you. Alone.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that he needed a rest from the subject. It was how he dealt with things—internally and on his own. We both needed to learn to work things out as a couple. But he’d said he’d tell me later. Maybe tonight I could let it go too.

I turned my palm up to lace my fingers through his. “Okay. No more talk of Celia.”

We exchanged smiles. Then Hudson let go of my hand to continue his meal.

We sat in silence for several long minutes. Hudson finished most of his plate while I poked at my food, my appetite long gone. I could agree not to talk about Celia, but that didn’t mean I could stop thinking about her. She’d penetrated so deeply into our relationship—did she realize that she consumed our thoughts? That our time together was now so intertwined with her that we were practically a threesome?

Hudson swirled his wine in his glass and watched me. “Now you’re quiet.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know what else to talk about.”

He ran his hand across his face and I knew he was thinking the same thoughts I’d been thinking—about how we couldn’t even have a simple meal without Celia there. He opened his mouth to say something, and for a moment, I thought he was going to go ahead and let her win.

But then his face changed and he became resolved. “Well, let’s see. I know how today went. What’s on your agenda for tomorrow? You’re interviewing Gwenyth, right?”

“Her name’s Gwenyth? Hmm.” That was the first time I’d heard her full name. And it bothered me. Hudson was not one to use nicknames.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I was probably making a mountain out of a molehill. But I couldn’t help myself from pursuing it. “I’ve heard you call her Gwen.”

He shrugged. “That’s what she goes by.”

“You never call people by their nicknames.” My irritation was showing.

And so was his. “Are you suggesting it means something that I use hers?”

“No.” Why did this bother me so much? “I don’t know.” It was Celia. The mood had been set and now, even as we tried to move past it, we struggled.

It was my turn to sigh. “I’m just tense. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” Hudson took another swallow of his wine. “I don’t know why I call her Gwen. I knew her as that first. I suppose it’s in my brain now.”

“You don’t need to explain.” But I was glad he had.

I took a sip from my own glass, trying to focus on something that wasn’t going to piss either of us off. He’d asked about my agenda for the next day...fuck. I remembered something we needed to talk about. But it was definitely not going to be a pleasant conversation. Might as well get it over with.

“About tomorrow…” I began tentatively. “I do have plans I should tell you about.”

“You better not be planning a run in Central Park. Your new bodyguard will tackle you down.” His tone was light, but his eyes said he was serious.

“I said I wouldn’t run outside. Trust me works both ways, you know. Do I get to meet this bodyguard? Is he also very attractive but unavailable because he’s gay?”

Hudson smirked. “That’s not even a little funny.”

I knocked his knee playfully under the table. “It totally is and you know it.”

“I’ll introduce you on his shift tomorrow. He’s not gay. And I trust you so I’m not worried about whether or not he’s attractive.”

“Good boy.”

“Now what do you need to tell me?” He took a bite of his risotto and pinned his attention on me.

I paused, hating to destroy the lighter mood. “I’m, um, having lunch with Mira tomorrow. And Jack.”

Hudson froze, his fork mid-air. “What did you say?”

The look on his face said he’d heard me fine. But I played along, trying to sound more confident the second time around. “I’m having lunch with your sister and father.”

“Like hell you are.” His eyes blazed with fury.

His reaction wasn’t a surprise, but I fought not to get immediately defensive. “I’m guessing it’s the Jack part that has you upset and not the Mira part.”

His jaw twitched. “I’m not upset about any of it because you are not having lunch with my father.”

With as much lightheartedness as I could muster, I said, “I’m not sure you can tell me what I am and am not doing.”

“Oh, yes, I can.”

I groaned, running my hands through my hair. “Hudson, this is ridiculous. I’ve told you before, I’m not Celia. I’m not going to sleep with your father—even if he comes on to me. Which he won’t because your baby sister will be there.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tossed it on his plate. “Why do you even need to spend time with him?”

“I don’t need to. I didn’t plan to. Mira didn’t want to be alone with him, and so I offered to be a buffer.”

“She doesn’t need a buffer. Cancel your date and have coffee with her later. Just Mira.”

I considered for about half a second. Then I abandoned that and started to get angry. “I don’t want to cancel. I want to have lunch with Mira. And Jack. I like him. Not because I’m into him, but because he’s your father. And I don’t have a father anymore and bonding with Jack makes me feel good.” My voice cracked, but I kept on. “Maybe he’s not a great replacement, but he’s the closest thing I have. Plus, knowing him helps me feel closer to you. And when you keep things from me, H, I need all the access to you I can get.”

“Alayna…”

Immediately I felt bad. “That last part was uncalled for. I’m sorry.”

Hudson pushed his chair away from the table. Then he reached over and pulled me into his lap.

This was better. The tension that had hung thickly in the air began to dissipate.

He ran his hand up and down my arm. “I’m not keeping things from you, Alayna. Really, I’m not. I just want a night without…her.”

“I know,” I said, burrowing deeper into his chest.

“And please, don’t use my father to get close to me. He’s not the road to my heart.”

“Where is the road to your heart?”

With one finger, he lifted my chin to meet his eyes. “Don’t you know? You’re the one who paved it.”

I bit back tears, not wanting to spoil the moment with crying. “Don’t think I’m going to cancel my lunch because you’re being sweet.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. I don’t think that at all. Have lunch with him if that’s what you want. At least I know you’ll be safe from Celia with him around. They aren’t friendly anymore. And I wouldn’t deny you something that makes you feel good.”

Desperate to hold on to his lighter mood, I chose to respond playfully. “It’s not your right to deny me anyway.”

He pretended to sigh. “I hate that.”

A rush of emotion swept through me. God, this man…he stopped his whole world to look out for me, to take care of me, and now he’d accepted my decision to meet with his father—a decision that had to be tearing him apart inside. Maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was pretty darn near.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on to him tight. “I love you.”

“And that’s why I’m letting you win this conversation.”

I pulled back to meet his eyes, my brow raised. “Letting me?”

“Please, indulge me a little.”

“How about this—” I shifted so I was straddling him. “How about we cease conversation altogether and indulge in an activity where we can both win?”

“Can we both win twice?”

“Honey, we can win three times if you’re up for it.”

The growing bulge beneath me told me what he thought about that before he even spoke. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

* * *

Mira tapped her pursed lips with a French-manicured finger. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell you what he’s planning. It makes no sense.”

When I joined Mira for lunch the next day, I hadn’t meant to tell her about Celia’s stalking, but the words poured out the moment I’d seen her. If Jack had been there, I knew I wouldn’t have shared as much, but his tardiness had me spilling everything, including Hudson’s deflection when I’d asked him his ideas for dealing with the bitch. He’d had a valid reason for not giving me more information, but it continued to nag at me.

Perhaps I was being unfair. “Maybe he really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He just seemed more elusive than that.” I opened a packet of pink stuff and stirred it into my iced tea.

Mira frowned. “You’re afraid he’s keeping something from you on purpose?”

“No.” Though, I wasn’t quite sure. “I don’t know.”

She shook her head, her hair bobbing against her shoulders with the movement. “I don’t know either. I’m sorry.”

Her apology took me by surprise. “Why are you sorry? You have no reason to be sorry.”

“He’s my brother.” When she realized that didn’t exactly explain anything, she went on. “I feel like I should understand him better, and I don’t.”

“No one does.” Would anyone, ever? Sometimes I thought maybe I would, but really, could I?

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waiter’s question drew my eyes back to the menu I’d tossed aside. I still hadn’t decided on a meal, having been too preoccupied with chatting.

The waiter saw my hesitancy. “Or would you prefer to wait for your other guest?”

Mira glanced at me. She already knew what she wanted to order. “We’ll wait.”

“Very good.” The waiter left us to attend to his other tables.

I picked up my menu and scanned the lunch items. But my mind was still on the conversation at hand. I lowered the menu and leaned toward Mira. “Here’s the thing—I’m afraid the real reason he won’t tell me what he has planned is that he doesn’t have anything planned.”

“Wouldn’t he just admit that?”

“No.” There was no way Hudson would let me believe he didn’t have complete control over the situation. “He wants me to feel safe.”

Mira beamed. “Of course he does.” There was never any doubt that the girl had faith in her brother. “Laynie, he’ll come up with something. I know it. And whatever it is, he’ll do a good job. He’ll be committed and he’ll go to great lengths. This is probably a horrible comparison, but look how devoted he was to keeping Celia’s secret. All to protect her.”

“He wasn’t protecting Celia.” Jack sat down in the chair between me and Mira. “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic. I didn’t realize you were joining us, Laynie. What a nice surprise!”

Mira spoke before I could give my own greeting. “Are you suggesting Hudson was protecting you? Because that makes me sick.” She roughly handed him her menu.

“Oh, I know what I want,” he said, setting the menu to the side without acknowledging Mira’s hostility. “He was protecting your mother. He didn’t want her to get hurt from my infidelity.”

Mira looked to me. “Still a valid comparison—Hudson will do far more for you than he’d do for Mom.” Again, before I had a chance to speak, she turned back to her father. “And you say that as if it were unreasonable that she would be hurt.”

“It’s unreasonable that he cares.” Jack circled his shoulders, probably trying to release the building tension.

Mira’s jaw tightened—the same way her brother’s tightened when he was upset. “Thank god he didn’t inherit heartlessness from you.”

“No, he inherited that from Sophia.”

Her eyes widened. Leaning forward, she whispered harshly, “Would you just stop?”

My eyes danced from one to the other as they volleyed their attacks. So much for me being a buffer at the meal. Hudson was right—Mira definitely didn’t need one.

Jack set his palms on the table and turned to face his daughter. “Mirabelle, I’m not heartless. You think it’s cruel that I cheated on your mother. It was. It is. I’m not perfect.”

Mira’s eyes filled and I suddenly recognized her anger as pain.

“But you have to understand, sweetie, that Sophia is also culpable. She’s not an easy woman to love.”

Mira dabbed at a stray tear that had spilled over. “And do you love her, Daddy?”

Jack reached over to take Mira’s hand in his. “Yes. I do. Of course, I do.”

“Do you tell her?”

“Every day.”

Mira smiled. But it was brief. She pulled her hand away from his. “Actions speak louder than words, you know.”

I’d been silent, letting the father and daughter say the things they needed to say, while I sat feeling like a voyeur. But I couldn’t let her last comment go by without reacting. “Sometimes.”

Jack and Mira looked at me as if they’d just remembered I was there.

Or maybe they wanted clarification. I wasn’t about to turn the meal into a Hudson-hasn’t-said-he-loves-me conversation, so I simply said, “Sometimes it would be nice to have both.”

The waiter’s return saved me from saying more. Since everyone else knew what they wanted, I went last, settling on a Chef Salad.

“And can I get a Manhattan?” Jack asked before the waiter left.

“For lunch, Dad? Seriously?”

“Hey, I’m not the one with the drinking problem.”

I braced myself for Mira’s reaction. Generally, no one spoke about Sophia’s alcoholism. I wasn’t even sure if Mira acknowledged it or if she was in denial.

Her dark eyes didn’t even flinch. “But you certainly facilitate it.” Apparently, she wasn’t in denial. “Can’t you just have tea? Or water?”

“Oh for the love of Pete. Your mother isn’t even here.” Jack’s eye twitched—another of Hudson’s traits when he was upset. “Is it too tempting for you, my dear? Because it doesn’t look like you’ve touched your water. I’m sure you’d rather have something stronger.”

Mira folded her arms over her belly and huffed. “I don’t care what you drink. I’m not thirsty. I’m saving room for my meal.”

There was finally a break in their bickering, and I searched for a new topic to discuss, but before I could think of one, Jack did.

“Now what is this about Celia and Hudson?”

I cringed at the sound of their names together. Like they were a couple.

Mira’s eyes lit up. “Can I tell him?”

“Oh my god, no.” Though he’d never said so, I had a feeling Hudson preferred to keep his father out of his private life.

Mira had no such barriers. “I’m telling him.” Without waiting for my consent, she told a condensed version of the story I’d told her—Celia following me, the notes in the books, Hudson trying to formulate a plan.

When she finished, I realized I was flushed. All the attention focused on me was embarrassing. “It’s really not a big deal. I was overreacting to bring it up.”

“No, you’re not!”

Jack met my eyes, his expression tight. “Mira’s right. Celia isn’t a threat to take lightly.”

“See that guy over there?” I pointed to a man sitting alone a few tables away. “He’s my new bodyguard. Believe me, we aren’t taking this lightly.” Remembering this new addition to my life renewed my anxiety about the situation.

“Good. Hudson’s taking her seriously. That makes me feel better.”

Jack’s concern wasn’t helping me. “Why?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “I care about you, Laynie.”

I stiffened, afraid of where his declaration was going.

If he noticed, it didn’t stop him. “You’re family now. You’re an important part of Hudson’s life and he—and I—would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

“Thank you, Jack. I really appreciate that.” Of course his affection was innocent. I kicked myself for momentarily thinking otherwise. And his words were an unexpected balm. “I care about you too.” I darted my eyes to Mira. “All of you.” Maybe not Sophia, but that didn’t need to be said aloud.

I swallowed back the lump of emotion in my throat. “What I meant though, is why does Celia worry you? Why does she care so much about hurting me? She acts like a jealous lover. Were she and Hudson together?”

“No way,” Mira said at the same time Jack said, “They were never together.”

“But Hudson’s so secretive. He might not have told either of you. You can’t know for sure.”

“I know for sure. There’s no way he was with her.” It wasn’t the first time Mira had stated her opinion on the matter.

Jack agreed. “He’s been disgusted with her ever since she seduced me.”

Mira scowled. “Seduced you? As if you weren’t part of it.”

“Yes, I was part of it.” Jack grinned devilishly. “But there are very few men who would turn down a naked woman in their bedroom, no matter what their marital status.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s not unheard of.” Paul Kresh came to mind. I’d been naked in his office once. All it earned me was an arrest.

The waiter delivered Jack’s drink. Mira rolled her eyes but didn’t comment on his beverage choice again.

When the waiter left, she asked, “If Hudson’s so disgusted with Celia, why are they even friends?”

Her question was one I’d asked myself many times over the past few weeks. It never occurred to me that Jack might be the one with the answer.

He took a swallow of his drink and sat back in his chair. “Hudson blames himself for who she is now. He feels a sort of responsibility for her.”

Mira’s forehead twisted in confusion. “I don’t get it. Why would he be responsible for who she is?”

Apparently Mira didn’t know about the true history of Celia and Hudson—how he’d manipulated her into falling for him and then slept with her best friend. It was that betrayal that had driven her to sleep with Jack in the first place. As some sort of revenge.

Jack met my eyes, confirming he knew more than his daughter. “It’s a long complicated story. If you want to know more, you’re going to have to ask Hudson. Or Celia.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Using her spoon, Mira fished out an ice cube from her still full water glass and stuck it in her mouth. Surprisingly, she didn’t pursue the long complicated story further.

While hearing from Jack had been insightful, my one haunting question remained unanswered. “Okay, they’re friends and he’s supported her and he’s never been into her and she knows that—so why is she after us?”

Jack sighed. “Beats me. It’s probably another one of her games. She’s fond of them, you know. And she’s good at them. I put nothing past her. She’s a calculating, conniving woman, and she hates to lose.”

“Great.” I rubbed my hand across my forehead, trying to ease the headache that was quickly approaching. “How the hell are you supposed to get out of her grasp?”

“Let her think she’s won.”

Our meals arrived then, and the conversation turned lighter to talk of Mira’s baby and her decision to not find out whether she was having a boy or a girl and what colors she was planning for the nursery. Despite the earlier tension between her and Jack, they settled into an easy groove, and I found myself more relaxed than I’d been in days. Lunch with the two was just what I’d needed.

When we were finished, Mira talked us into crème brûlée and coffee. We lingered over our dessert, enjoying each other’s company. Finally, she shoved away her plate. “God, I’m stuffed. And I have to go to the bathroom. Again.”

I’d gone with her the first time, but now I chose to stay behind, eager to get a few private words in with Jack. This would probably be my only opportunity, after all.

When Mira was out of earshot, I dove in. “Jack, I have a personal question for you, if you don’t mind.”

“About six and a half inches. But it’s not size that matters; it’s what you do with it.” Hudson’s dirty sense of humor obviously came from his father.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious.”

He looked as if he might be preparing a comeback, but perhaps the glare on my face changed his mind. “Okay. Shoot.”

“Sophia once told me that Hudson was a sociopath. Do you believe that too?” It was blunt perhaps, but I knew Mira would be back soon, and I didn’t know how honest Jack would be with her around.

“Sophia’s still claiming that bullshit?” Jack shook his head, his expression a combination of disgust and exhaustion. “One psychiatrist suggested it one time a handful of years ago. Hudson’s never been clinically diagnosed as such, and no, I don’t believe it. That boy cares. A lot. He just isn’t always able to express it. Blame that on Sophia too.”

I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. No matter what Jack’s answer, I already knew what Hudson was and wasn’t. But hearing the details of Sophia’s claim—and knowing his father didn’t agree—was a relief.

But his words brought up another question, one that had plagued me from the moment I’d met Hudson’s mother. “Why do you blame Sophia for his lack of expression? I don’t think you mean just her drinking. What did she do to him?”

“Well, if I’m going to explain that then you’re going to realize that I’m to blame too.”

“I can handle that.”

“But can I?” Jack considered a moment. Then he sighed. “Sophia wasn’t always hard like she is now. When I married her she was refined and serious, but she could be fun. But then I started building Pierce Industries. I didn’t have the money that Sophia came from. Her parents were convinced that she married beneath her. I wanted to prove them wrong, prove that I could be the man she should have married.”

“And you did.” Though Hudson had taken Pierce Industries to the top, it had been Jack that had built a solid foundation.

“I did. And Sophia wanted that too. But she hadn’t expected how lonely it could be, being married to a man who was married to his work. She decided I was cheating long before I ever did.”

His eyes glossed with sadness, or perhaps regret. “Not being around—that was my mistake. Her loneliness drove her to drinking. Alcohol made her more closed off. So it became a cycle—I wasn’t around because of work and when I was around, I didn’t want to be because my wife was a coldhearted bitch. I’d throw myself more into work, just to avoid her.”

I hid my smile. If I’d had to live with Sophia, I’d have done the same thing.

Reading my mind, Jack winked, but his somber tone remained. “Eventually, she realized the one person I would come home for was Hudson. He was my son. My firstborn. I made time for him whenever I could.” Jack’s eyes beamed with a love that only existed between a father and his child.

It made my heart soar—I really did love this man who loved my man as much as I did.

Jack swirled his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “Sophia used my son to get to me. She dangled him in front of me to get my attention and pulled him from me just as quickly. Hudson was always a smart kid. He learned pretty early on that his mother used him as bait. Poor guy got caught in the middle of so many games. It’s no wonder he became good at them himself.”

My chest ached, picturing Hudson as a little boy, only wanting to be loved by his parents, instead being used as a pawn. “Was it the same with Mira?”

“No. Hudson had already become Sophia’s rival by the time Mira came along. Sometimes I think he fought his mother just to keep his sister out of her focus.” This idea seemed to make Jack proud. “Now does that sound like the actions of a sociopath?”

“No. It doesn’t. But I already knew he wasn’t. He has too much love in him.” Or was I just fooling myself? If he really loved me, why couldn’t he say it?

I felt a presence come up behind me, and I turned, expecting to see Mira.

“What the fuck are you doing here with her?”

It wasn’t Jack’s daughter.

It was his wife.

Загрузка...