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Horror spreads through me.
I dropped it. On the floor of his office.
I take a breath and grab my laptop from the bedside table where my phone had been resting and open it up.
All I need is a phone number. Just one. And some luck.
I’m wearing one of the work outfits Amber and I put together as I sit in the quiet, eucalyptus-scented waiting room.
It’s cool. Voices are low and it’s what I’d expect from a high-end, old school law firm. Stately, traditional, and deceptively lush. Nothing is over the top. Everything costs a fortune, and it does nothing to offend or entice. It just is.
And I’m so nervous that the tiniest sound makes me jump. Like when the receptionist comes up to me and I scream. Just a little.
The elegant woman stares a moment, then smiles politely. “This way.”
I’m led down the hushed, wide hall to an office and guided inside. It’s just as lovely as the rest, but clearly this isn’t an office someone calls home.
After five minutes, I’m about at the end of my tether when someone speaks behind me. “Miss Colton?”
I twist to face him. He’s the infamous Jenson, has to be, because this is too important to leave to anyone else. “Yes.”
“I’m Edward Jenson, and this is a week early.” His gaze is cool as it runs over me and I get the feeling behind that poker face he’s surprised by what he sees. I almost say join the club, but somehow, I manage to keep a lid on my mouthiness. “Unusual.”
“These are unusual times,” I say, aiming for poise and sophistication and missing.
He doesn’t move from where he stands. “Usually, I’d have your fiancé here.” And his gaze now drops to my hand.
“It’s early days. Hudson said this was important to him, and so it’s important to me.”
“We did have an appointment.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “Unusual times. Can we…can we start?”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
The word is the easiest thing to say and the most painful because I know the love is one sided. Even if we were to make things work out after this, it would always be like that. Because Hudson doesn’t believe in love. And that breaks my heart.
“And is he in love with you?”
“He’s Hudson.” As if that settles the matter. And I clench my hands together and I struggle to stay calm. “But he has his own way, you know? And I’m here.”
The man nods slowly. “So you are. Shall we get started?”
The aftermath is a blur. I’ve no idea how I did, as the questions weren’t anything like I thought. Jenson asked if I needed a car anywhere, but I just said I’m heading to the Lower East Side, so I could get there on my own.
I walk, as I have time, and from midtown it’s a decent walk through the changing neighborhoods.
I have no idea if what I told him was right, it all felt right. I know enough about Hudson from working with him and spending time with him. And…I did my best. I don’t know shoe size or his tailor, but as I said I know Hudson is about quality, not what’s labeled the best. That he’s the hardest working man I’ve ever known; and the smooth and sophisticated surface hides so many depths that it would take a lifetime to explore them all.
I cross Essex to the bar, and I’m a few minutes early, but my brother is already there, outside, pacing, waiting for me. He crosses his arms and glares.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“Danny…”
He shook his head. “I warned you about the Sinclair empire, and you went and got involved with Hudson and tried to say you’re not?”
