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And if I didn’t know better, I’d swear she just ran away.
Chapter Fourteen
Scarlett
Ijust ran away from Hudson.
Shit.
I shouldn’t have done that, but I needed to.
I’m standing outside the elevator, panting out of fear rather than the run from his office, waiting for the damn elevator to turn up.
The smart lights came on with each step I took and the ones where I am light me like I’m some escapee caught in a spotlight.
Standing…panicking…shifting like a maniac from one foot to the other on the rich cream carpet that covers the floor, that’s what I’m doing. It must cost a fortune to clean. Good thing he’s a billionaire. I almost start laughing but swallow the hysteria down with my nonsensical thoughts. And I’m resisting the urge to look back over my shoulder.
He isn’t coming. I’d know. I’d hear him and looking back makes me look every bit the crazy and guilty person I am.
I press the button again and again. But the elevator, which I know moves smooth and fast, has suddenly morphed into something super slow.
I should not have run from him when he asked that question, but what am I meant to say? That I told him a big, fat white lie that keeps bleeding bigger and bigger, not to mention sprouting new ones?
And what was that whole thing in his office where my internal temperature must have been hotter than the sun? The kiss? Those touches?
I’m not even claiming to be innocent because I took part fully. I wanted to touch him, and I did.
Apparently, I like playing with sexy fire.
Sexy fire that has influence with a capital I and bells, whistles, and parades in the same arena where my brother’s struggling to find his foothold once again. A black strike or black ball or whatever term you want to use thrown against him means he’s dead in the water, career wise. And Danny sank his money, my money, our grandparents’ money, into it when he set out with a dream.
He aligned with the wrong person and now he’s barely treading water—I don’t know where the whole watery analogy thing comes from. It’s probably because I’m in over my head and I feel like I’m drowning.
But my point is, Hudson, the man I’m attempting to run from and am thwarted by an elevator at the top of a Manhattan modern business castle, can make or break or squash people like Danny.
And I’m lying to Hudson.
Little spidery white lies that breed.
I’m lying and I’m crossing all the boundaries and I’m not sure if I’ve bitten off too much, if I can breathe under this water or deal with any of it.
But I have to. I need to keep calm and just keep going and glue all the pieces together. If I need to get gaffa tape to help, I’ll do it.
Every little, tiny bit of research on Hudson I’ve done comes crashing back. Everything he’s said. This man doesn’t make threats, he’s a martini so smooth you never realize the bite is real until you’re at the bottom of the glass. And he doesn’t make threats at all.
Hudson Sinclair makes promises.
He can destroy Danny.
These are things I know and have to keep front and center of my brain until I see this thing through to the end. I’m not in it to hurt anyone.
A dark shiver passes through me. It’s like every part of me suddenly burst into a different kind of life.
“It doesn’t come faster if you keep pushing the button.”
It’s not until Hudson speaks I realize I’m doing just that.
Those smooth, velvet tones are like whispering kisses against my skin.
