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I’ve had relationships that last longer than that.
Barely.
With that cheerful thought in mind, I will myself to sleep.
I hit the ground running the next morning.
Hudson strikes me as a man who doesn’t tolerate tardiness and I’m not about to disappoint him. He’s a little scary under the urbane high-end martini of him. Scary like he’s a billionaire, and he made that threat. Or promise. Or dire warning. And I’m lying to him. That sort of scary.
I raided Amber’s closet for an outfit. One of her more…buttoned up ensembles. On me, it’s chic matron. On her, men still no doubt drool. But it’s pretty and it had an expensive vibe about it because that girl knows how to find a bargain. I left her a note saying I’ll bring it back clean.
After fighting throngs of commuters at the Halsey St. L train stop, then the N train at Union Square, cramming myself in like a sardine, I head to Fifty-Sixth and Fifth Ave and make it to Hudson’s office on the top floor with about two minutes to spare.
His gaze is cool and unimpressed and I get the distinct impression I’m late in his eyes.
I smile, and say, “Here for my first day.”
“Follow me, Ms. Colton.” And he hands his harried receptionist an iPad he’s holding.
She barely looks at me as I do as ordered.
The moment the office door swishes shut behind me, I’m encased in silence. Not even the traffic from below, or the noise from outside in the office, penetrates the space.
It strikes me what that means.
“I didn’t have my ear to the door,” I say. “It was a little open. That’s all.”
He stares at me and laughs, shaking his head. “I didn’t ask.”
“It’s like the Cone of Silence in here.”
“The what?”
“There was this old show and…” I trail off. It occurs to me Sarah might not have sat around watching old Get Smart reruns on TV as a kid. Or a teenager. Or last week. “It doesn’t matter. It’s quiet in here. And—tell me about the job.”
Both his eyebrows rise. “Hilarious. I don’t have time for this, not today. Here’s the NDA and the contract. I have a lawyer to go over it with you—”
“No, I trust you.”
Again his eyebrows rise and I refuse to let the fluttering at the pulse in my throat turn into a full on panic attack. I’ve never had one, but I assume that’s what it is. I feel like something’s about to explode and my windpipe is getting tighter and I want to run away. But I’m made of sterner stuff than that.
“Okay, Scarlett.” He shrugs and hands me a slender folder that’s made of the softest leather I’ve ever touched. It’s in a deep mahogany color with a darkly gilded edging. “There’s a pen in there, too. My receptionist, Georgina, will give you the tour and settle you in. I’d planned on setting aside time, but I can’t. But we’ll have dinner.”
I almost say you and Georgina, but I’m not sure he appreciates my feeble attempt at humor, so I swallow the words.
He’s even more devastating today. The morning light through the wall of glass makes his hair shine with dark chocolate light, and his eyes are the deepest blue. He’s wearing a suit in deep charcoal with the finest, most delicate emerald plaid shot through it. I almost sigh but catch myself.
“Dinner?”
“Food? That thing you usually do in the evening? Dinner’s a good pretext for going over the things I need you to handle for me personally. I’ve been promising Georgina to have someone take that part of the work off her plate, and I’ll be adding to it.” He starts rattling off things at me, but I barely take mental note. “And it’s also a great way to start the romance. Wear something good. I’ll pick you up at eight.”
It’s not until I’m done for the day that I realize I never told him where I live.
And it’s not until I’m on the train home it hits me in my panic I put down the fancy address Sarah lives at in Manhattan on my forms.
Oh, boy.
Danny’s sitting on our sofa, chatting to Amber when I get in. She sees me and rolls her eyes. “I’ve better clothes, woman.”
