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She’s a pawn that I’m afraid he’ll use to make me obsolete in doing my job, in his bidding—which he could now—and I’m not looking to have anyone have any sort of power over me whatsoever.
“What’s her name?”
“I’m not giving you that information when she’s not my kid,” I chide as the microwave beeps that my daughter’s movie snack is done. “Was there anything else?”
“Besides you handing me out an attitude for nothing? No, Opie, I think that’s it.”
“There was never anything in the agreement that said I had to be civil or sweet to you.”
“No, but I can make your life a living hell, baby.”
His words involuntarily lick up my body and I shiver on contact with them. Hudson is a wet dream and I hate that I can’t oversee that fact. That even his voice takes a toll on my body.
“Watch the nicknames, boss. I’m a young kid with a naive heart.” I say that while yanking my poor microwave open and taking out the steaming bag of popcorn.
“You’re anything but naive.”
“And now is the perfect time to hang up on you.”
He chuckles, sounding amused when I’m anything but. “Alright, Opie. Hamburger and fries. You know what I like.”
I do.
But not in that way.
I’m not saying that I want to sleep with my boss—sorta and depending on the day. However, I can plainly state that it doesn’t feel good when he brings up my age every five seconds like it’s an STD he doesn’t want to catch. That it’s insulting that he doesn’t find me remotely attractive in any way, shape, or form. It makes him think of himself being a child predator.
“All day,” I say nonchalantly. “I’ll get that ordered up for you right away.”
“That’s my girl.” I practically grind my teeth together at his taunting. “And I do need you in early tomorrow. I have a client coming in that needs to be in before work.”
“Since when do we do that?”
“Since they’ve been a client of mine for over a decade and loyal to me ever since.”
Who cares?
But to Hudson, it’s a big deal. Miles has told me some of the trials and tribulations that Hudson had to go through to stay competitive and seen. How he gave away free ink so he could use word of mouth to spread how good of a job he did.
All before social media was a big thing.
Hudson takes his word seriously, and also our arrangement now that he doesn’t have to pretend to be doing me any favors.
“What time?” I solicit, jerking my daughter’s snack into a bowl so that it’ll pour out.
“Seven.”
Now, I really hate him.
Thankfully, Mia doesn’t start her new job until next week and she can watch Rory when I crawl out of bed to do God knows what for this tattooed-ass clown.
“I didn’t know you were incapable of opening up your own doors,” I emit flatly. “That’s a problem.”
“Or maybe I don’t want to be alone and I’m scared of the dark,” Hudson replies, equally level. “Take your pick.”
I roll my eyes then say through clenched teeth, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Hudson doesn’t respond. He just hangs up the phone.
