Complete Fixed: The Complete Fixed Series: Books 1-5 Read online

  He studied me, deciding whether to show his cards yet or not. He chose not. “Can’t a brother come visit his only sister on a whim? I still feel bad for missing your graduation.”

  I hid my eye roll. He could have made my graduation if he’d wanted to, and we both knew it. But we had to play the game of happy family. “You’re a busy hotshot lawyer. I get it.”

  “I sense the sarcasm in your voice, Laynie.”

  My brother excelled at reading people, making him a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom. “Okay, I was pissed you didn’t come. Does that make you happy?” Actually, I’d been hurt. He’d had the date for almost nine months. How could I not feel low priority? “I’m over it now, though, so forget it.”

  We’d reached the hotel, which gave us the perfect chance to drop the subject. At the restaurant, we were seated right away, and I let the new environment transform me from outwardly brooding to introspective.

  I deliberated for a long time about my menu choice, annoying Brian who knew what he wanted instantly. When the tempo of his leg bouncing under the table accelerated, I settled on a house salad. God, the man had no patience. He should take a lesson from Hudson.

  The thought of Hudson brought warmth to my body and a furrow to my brow. Something was poking at the edge of my thoughts, something I couldn’t quite grasp.

  Brian chatted with me casually, keeping me from focusing on what perplexed me about Hudson. He briefly told me about a case he was working on and about the renovations he and Monica had done to their brownstone.

  When he’d finished a decent portion of his meal, about the same time I thought I’d shoot myself over the banality of our conversation, Brian cleared his throat. “Laynie, I’m not here to catch up. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our situation lately and have realized that you’re a grown woman with an excellent education. It’s time for you to assume more responsibility for yourself. I’m not doing you a favor by enabling you.”

  I took a long swallow of my water, contemplating how to react to his sudden statement. Old connotations of the word “enable” stung me. Was he insinuating that I wasn’t well? And how was I not responsible for myself? I was living and working in the Big Apple—if that didn’t take responsibility, I didn’t know what did.

  Ever impatient, Brian didn’t wait for me to choose my response. “I can’t let you throw your life away at a nightclub. You are too vulnerable to work in that type of establishment.”

  The Sky Launch. Brian had never liked me working there, not from day one. But he’d accepted it because I’d kept out of trouble. Had he now forgotten? “I haven’t had any issues since I’ve worked there.”

  “You had school to keep you occupied. You need something more challenging to focus on.”

  Never mind that I’d worried about the exact same thing myself, I was pissed. “Brian, I know how to handle my triggers. And what do you know about it? You never went to any support meetings.”

  His voice rose uncomfortably high for the serene surroundings. “Because I’m not your parent!”

  That was the crux of the whole conversation. Brian had been forced into parenting me and I’d always suspected he resented me for it. Now I knew for sure.

  He stared at his near empty plate. When he spoke again it was quieter. “Look, Monica’s having a baby.”

  And everything clicked into understanding. I was being replaced. “Congratulations.”

  “I need to focus my energy and money on her and the baby. It’s time for you to be grown-up.” He straightened in his seat, as if to strengthen his position. “I’m not paying for the apartment anymore.”

  “But I can’t afford to pay for the apartment! Not right now with my student loans about to be due.” I was painfully aware that I sounded petulant and spoiled, but I had always assumed he’d help me for a while longer. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money.

  “Then maybe you better look for a better paying job.”

  “Brian, that’s not fair.”

  “Think about everything I’ve been through with you and then talk to me about fair.”

  He couldn’t have hurt me more with any other words. “I haven’t had any problems in a long time,” I whispered.

  “You violated a restraining order.”

  “Over four years ago!”

  “I’m sorry, Laynie. I can’t support you anymore.” His words were final. He’d made his decision; there would be no convincing him otherwise.

  I saw what it had done to him, the years of caring for a mentally disturbed sibling. I’d known—I’d always known—but had never wanted to believe that my actions had hurt him so deeply. It stirred an old ache I had buried.

  But I was also angry. I might not be fragile anymore, but I certainly wasn’t steady on my own. Not financially anyway. I needed his support now as much as ever and as shitty as it was, he was my only family. I had no one else.

  I threw my napkin on the table and, not sure if I hoped to sound more sincere or snotty, said, “Thanks, Brian. Thanks for everything.” I grabbed my purse from the back of my chair and walked out of The Peacock Alley, careful not to look back. I wanted to appear strong and stoic. Turning back would give my brother a good look at my tears.

  I let myself cry until I left the hotel. Once on the street, the city bustle and grit steeled me. I didn’t need Brian. I could do it on my own. Sure he’d helped me foot the bill since my crazy antics had ran through all of my inheritance money, but support and responsibility was much more than throwing cash around.

  I hurried back to my apartment, aware that Brian didn’t try to stop me or call me. I spent the next hour behind my computer, figuring out my bills and expenses, searching for ways to make cuts. With a promotion at the club—which wasn’t guaranteed—I could pay for my apartment. But I wouldn’t be able to afford my student loans when they went into repayment the next month.

  Brian had effectively trapped me. Not a bad strategy. The Laynie from a day before would have to give into his wishes, taking a job at one of the high paying corporate offices that had pursued me at graduation.

  Fortunately, I had another option.

  Taking a deep breath, I picked up my cell phone and pushed redial. God, was I really doing this? I was. And if I was honest about it, I was glad for the excuse. Maybe I really should have been thanking Brian.

  The number Hudson had called the night before rang only once before he answered. “Alayna.” His voice was smooth and sexy. Not sexy like he was coming on to me but like the sex he exuded naturally.

  The confidence threw me. “Uh, hi, Hudson.”

  I paused.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” I sensed he enjoyed my uncertainty. Why couldn’t I display the same confidence he did? I never had anxiety issues at work or at school.

  The thought of school jostled something and I blurted out the question that had niggled at me during lunch. “How did you know I was intelligent?”

  I heard a creak and I pictured him leaning back in a leather chair behind an executive desk. “What do you mean?”

  “You said I was…” I blushed, glad he couldn’t see me. “Beautiful and intelligent—“

  He interrupted me. “Exquisitely beautiful and extremely intelligent.”

  “Yeah, that.” Having heard them before made his words no less effective. The matter-of-fact manner of his statement should have felt clinical and cold, but they were anything but. A shiver ran up my spine. I cleared my throat. “But you’ve barely talked to me. How do you know anything about my intelligence?”

  He paused only briefly. “The graduate symposium at Stern. I saw you present.”

  “Oh.” The symposium had been held a month before graduation and had featured the top students from the MBA program. Each of us had presented a new or innovative idea for a panel of experts. My presentation had been called Print Marketing in a Digital Age. I hadn’t wanted to know who was on the panel, knowing their names would send me into obsessive researching and onl
ine stalking. Afterward, the experts and presenters were invited to a wine and cheese soiree, so that students could schmooze and corporate execs could make job offers. I’d presented for the experience. For the honor. I hadn’t wanted a job, so I’d skipped the after affair.

  Now I wondered what would have happened if I’d gone. Would Hudson have tracked me down? Was it entirely coincidental that he’d made an offer on the club I worked for around the same time as the symposium?

  “Is that the only reason you called, Alayna?” His all-business words held a hint of a tease.

  “No.” I closed my eyes and clutched onto the side of my desk for support. Accepting his offer was harder than it should be. I couldn’t help but feel it was too easy of an out—like I was selling my soul to the devil.

  But I also felt a surge of excitement, a thick electric wave of freedom. “Your proposition—I’d like to do it. I’m saying yes.” Remembering his other proposition to seduce me, I clarified. “Your offer to pay my student loans, I mean.”

  His chair creaked again and I imagined him standing, his hand thrust in the pocket of an Italian suit. Ah, yum. “I’m very happy to hear that, Alayna.”

  I shook the vision out of my head and waited for him to say more. When he didn’t, I said, “So what happens now?”

  “I have time in my schedule at four-thirty. Come to my office at Pierce Industries then and we’ll finalize the details.”

  I’d get to see him in—I looked at my watch—two hours. My heart sped up. “Sounds nice. I mean, good. Sounds good.”

  He chuckled. “Goodbye, Alayna.”

  “Bye.” I hugged the phone for several seconds after he hung up, mesmerized by this stranger’s effect on me, wondering if I’d be able to pull off the scam he’d concocted, hopeful I’d be able to thwart his promised advances.

  All right, maybe I didn’t hope for that last one, but I wanted to believe I did. For my sanity’s sake.

  I also thought about the symposium, considering the possibility that Hudson Pierce had gone to greater lengths than he’d let on to set up this facade for his parents.

  Maybe the thought should have scared me. But it only intrigued me more.

  Chapter Six

  Two hours turned out to be barely enough time to prepare for seeing Hudson. I spent a long time in the shower, shaving my legs and underarms and cleaning up my Brazilian, chastising myself as I did since there was no way Hudson was going to see my lady parts.

  Then I stood in front of my closet for what felt like hours. I’d be going straight from Hudson’s office to the club to meet with David then a full shift of bartending after that. I needed the perfect blend of smart and sexy with a dash of fuck-me-please—for work, of course. Finally I settled on a belted teal and black shirt dress. It was shorter than I would have liked for the business part of my plans, but still longer than most of the dresses I wore at the club. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and kept my makeup to mascara and lip gloss. I looked good—fresh and natural.

  Having been too distracted to ask Hudson where Pierce Industries was located, I had to Google it. Turned out the offices were near the One Worldwide Plaza, a straight subway shot to the club. From my apartment, I took a cab, not wanting to get sweaty. And, hey, I was getting eighty thousand dollars—I could afford a taxi to the West Side.

  I’d been by the beautiful copper-topped granite and brick building many times, but never inside it. Pierce Industries took the top several floors, and I recognized some of the other tenants listed in the lobby as Pierce Industry subsidiaries. I got directions from the security guard and took the elevator to the top floor.

  The lengthy ride gave me one more chance for a silent pep talk. Three years sober, Laynie. You cannot fixate on him. You cannot obsess.

  But as I checked in with the pretty blonde receptionist, I felt an aching stab of envy because she got to work close to Hudson on a daily basis. God, I was already in trouble. He didn’t make it into the Oh, fuck category of attractive men for nothing.

  “Miss Withers,” the blonde said after notifying her boss I’d arrived. “He’s ready for you.”

  I checked my watch—four-twenty-two. How long had Hudson been waiting? Did I get the time wrong?

  The thick double doors behind the receptionist’s desk opened, seemingly by themselves. She must have pushed a button somewhere. “Right through there,” she said.

  I stepped tentatively into the office. Hudson, who sat behind an expansive modern executive desk, stood when he saw me. “Alayna. Come in.”

  When I caught a full view of him, I froze. In his well-lit office, I truly saw Hudson Pierce for the first time. And he was gorgeous. He wore a pin-striped three-piece suit with a crisp white dress shirt and a plum and white striped tie. His black thick-framed glasses, which should have screamed nerd alert, had me slipping in my panties. He looked sharp and smart and commanding and…wow.

  I swallowed. Twice. “Am I late?”

  “Not at all.” His sexy voice made my knees buckle and I suddenly regretted my high-heeled Mary Janes. “My last appointment finished earlier than I’d anticipated. Have a seat.”

  Determined to appear poised and with it, I straightened my stance and strode to the chair he gestured at in front of his desk.

  “Hmm,” I said, looking around after I was seated. The generous office space continued the modern décor throughout. Behind his desk were floor to ceiling glass windows giving a breathtaking view of Midtown. “Nice place. Not what I’d pictured, but incredible.”

  Hudson unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, brows raised. “You pictured my office?”

  My cheeks grew warm. Now he thought I’d been thinking about him. I had been, but he didn’t need to know. “I thought you’d be more traditional. But the modern really suits you.”

  A small smile crept on his face. “Actually, I have a designer. I have no idea what’s modern or contemporary or traditional. She showed me pictures of things she thought I’d like and I nodded.”

  I grinned, knowing he was attempting to put me at ease, but my stomach bunched into knots. Hudson’s office was unfamiliar territory for a nightclub bartender and we were meeting to discuss an unusual business deal. And he was so fucking hot, he dazzled me.

  “I hope you don’t mind if we get to business first.”

  “Of course not.” If business was first, I wondered what would follow.

  Nothing. Nothing would follow because when we were finished I would politely thank him and leave his office.

  Ha ha, right.

  “As I said earlier, I’m very pleased that you’ve accepted my offer. Before you officially agree, though, I want to make sure you understand exactly what I am asking of you. We tabled this discussion last night…” He paused and I suspected he was recalling the reason the discussion was tabled. At least, that’s what I was thinking about. “So I neglected to mention a key point.”

  Hudson leaned back in his chair, placing his arms on the rests. “I’m a very high profile man, Alayna. Convincing my mother that we are a couple requires putting on a show for the world. That means you will be ‘on duty’, so to say, at all times. When we are together around other people, we will play the happy couple. When we aren’t together, you must still act as though you’re mine.”

  Was it my imagination or had he emphasized the words you’re mine? Either way, goose bumps travelled down my skin.

  “You can’t tell anyone that we are not really in a relationship.”

  I creased my forehead and my mouth suddenly went dry. “I hadn’t realized that.”

  “No, I suspected as much.” He narrowed his eyes, gazing my reaction. “Are you still interested?”

  I didn’t really have a choice. Either accept it or give into Brian’s wishes. Besides, whom would I want to tell? Liesl. And David. Was I still thinking about David with tall, hot, and devastatingly handsome sitting in front of me? Yes. Because David had the potential of being real. And frankly, I didn’t know that I actually liked Hudson beyond
the whole physical thing. I certainly shouldn’t.

  “How long would we keep up the act?”

  “As long as we feel we can without imposing too much on our personal lives. The longer the better, obviously, but if my mother sees that I am capable of falling in love, she won’t try to press me into a loveless marriage, even if you and I have ‘broken up.’”

  “Are you still interested?”

  “It’s eighty thousand dollars, Hudson. That’s a drop in the bucket for you, but for me...I understand if I have to work for it.”

  He relaxed, nodding. “Good.” Hudson pressed a button on his desk.

  “Yes, Mr. Pierce?” The sweet timbre of the receptionist’s voice filled the room.

  “Send him in, please, Patricia.” Hudson stood and pressed another button on his desk.

  I’d heard her answer the phone as Trish when I’d arrived and I wondered if he was opposed to nicknames for people in general, or if he just knew the weight of using a proper name—the power it held over people.

  The doors opened and a dark-haired, muscular man in a black suit walked in. If Hudson hadn’t already sent my horny button into overdrive, I was pretty sure this guy would have set it buzzing.

  “This is Jordan,” Hudson said, crossing around to the front of his desk. Jordan nodded. “He’s been assigned to drive you to and from work and anywhere else you may need to go.”

  Not that I wanted to turn down such a beautiful gift, but one thing I loved about NYC was alternate modes of transportation. My parents died in a car accident. Cars weren’t my favorite. “I don’t need a driver.” Then, so I wouldn’t seem ungrateful I added, “I usually get my exercise running home.”

  “Then he will drive you to work and follow you home when you run to make sure you arrive safely.” Before I could argue, Hudson eyed me sternly. “Alayna, my girlfriend would have a driver. She’d also have a bodyguard. I’m willing to forego the bodyguard if you use my driver.”