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My mother’s smile turns on me as she takes a sip of her drink. “Your…new PA was telling me some delightful stories about training computers.”
Oh Christ. What the actual hell?
But while color flares in Scarlett’s cheeks, my mother starts chatting about this and that, different social events coming up that I only ever attend when I have to for business or family obligations. And in those questions are nestled little ones about me and Scarlett.
It could all go terribly, horribly wrong, but it doesn’t. Ms. Colton keeps things moving and close to the truth and generic.
When she excuses herself for the bathroom, my mother leans in and says, “Not your usual, Hudson. Maybe you’re learning. Tell her we’ll have lunch.”
I narrow my eyes. “This is a business thing.”
“With tongues?” She smiles again, cat-like this time, her carefully made-up eyes crinkling. “Far be it from me to lecture you on mixing business and pleasure, Hudson. But make sure it’s worth it.”
And with that, she leaves.
I’ve no idea if I’ve won a round or what, but one thing’s for sure, my mother knows about the letter and that means I need to play things very carefully.
After all, I want that inheritance. It’s mine.
It doesn’t take long to settle back into the easy conversation with Scarlett, and even though I don’t want to, I have to end the evening. So I walk her home. It’s a slow walk through the park where the lights draw the lovers out.
“You survived.”
“Dinner and drinks, or you?” she asks, matching her steps to my longer one.
I arch a brow at her and pull her out of the way of a cyclist. “My mother.”
“She seems nice.” She pauses. “Scary, but nice. I guess now I know where you get it from.”
“Which part?” My hand brushes hers and I want to thread my fingers with hers, bring her closer against me. I don’t.
She lifts a hand to brush hair out of her face that the night breeze sends there, the warmth of the air tinged with a cool touch, and she half smiles. “Definitely the scary part.”
I’m telling myself the only reason I didn’t want to end the evening, and the only reason we’re walking so slow, is because every minute counts. Time is short. Time is money. And I have a lot I want to get done.
It’s not just my share of the jewels, it’s the piece of the Sinclair legacy in the family business. I have power and money, but these are things I can’t buy and this woman next to me is my ticket to get what I want.
That’s the reason, and no other.
We come out of the park and onto Park Avenue South and finally her building is there. I stop near the entrance, close enough she doesn’t have far, and distant enough there are shadows that cloak.
There’s a point of no return coming, and my mother’s appearance tonight brings it into sharp focus. I have a few days, maybe a week, in which I can’t choose someone else. I’d have to change my plans slightly if I do, either keep Scarlett on with the job or fire her, but at that point, it’s null and void. I’d find another woman, and have this as just a flirtation and nothing more.
My mind ticks with ideas and ways to be smart about it if things go askew. But I’m hoping not.
We click, and that’s a big push in the right direction.
“Well,” she says, looking up at me. “Thanks for everything.”
I’m suddenly aware this is the time when one of us should suggest going upstairs if this was something else.
“What was the thing about computers?”
Scarlett frowns. “Oh. I saw…I saw a program on training AIs and I told her how fascinating it was.”
I laugh. “She was probably beyond relieved you weren’t talking about fashion shows and the Hamptons.”
And then Scarlett does something unexpected. She rises up to brush her mouth against my cheek.
