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  “What—what are you doing here?” My voice was dazed.

  “You never called me for coffee and I didn’t have your number so I stopped by.”

  I hadn’t called her because Hudson and I had agreed not to see her without each other. I certainly hadn’t expected her to show up out of the blue. And, how had she gotten in anyway? I frowned. The door had been locked and should have stayed locked after Julia let Paul in. Maybe they hadn’t shut the door hard enough.

  “How did you know I was here?” Was my head muddled or was her appearance as baffling as Paul’s?

  “Jordan told me.”

  Of course. Her endless connections to Hudson’s life. Why was I even surprised anymore?

  “Is something wrong?” Concern laced Celia’s question.

  “No…I…well.” My head hurt, my stomach hurt, my mouth was dry and I felt shaky. “Everything’s fine.”

  I followed Celia’s questioning glance to Paul. Oh, yeah. Fucking Paul. “Celia this is a potential business associate, Paul Kresh.” I turned to Paul, unable to look him in the eye. “This is a friend of my boyfriend’s, Celia Werner.”

  Paul’s brow rose. “As in, Warren Werner?”

  “Uh-huh.” Celia straightened at the mention of her father’s name, ready to be the show pony that she was raised to be.

  Paul broke into a smile. “We did an event for your mother once. I didn’t actually talk to you, but I saw you around.”

  “What company did you say you worked for?”

  “Party Planners Plus. My girlfriend is the owner and I recently joined on board as her partner.” Paul’s eyes traveled toward the ramp. “Here she is now.” He turned his focus to his girlfriend. “Julia, this is Celia Werner. You remember when we did that event for Madge Werner.”

  Julia’s eyes brightened. “Totally. It was at the MoMA last spring.”

  “Ah, that was you? How nice to meet you. It turned out lovely, no matter what my mother said.”

  Julia and Paul exchanged a glance that said there must have been a story behind the matter. Frankly, though I would usually be curious about the gossip regarding Celia’s mother, at the moment I couldn’t care less. There were too many conflicting pieces of my life trying to meet up in one place—Celia, Paul, trying to land my first great business deal for the club—once again, I felt the urge to throw up.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but as Paul said, we’ve got to be running.” Julia smiled brightly. “It was so awesome to meet you.”

  I did my best to recapture the enthusiasm I’d had earlier when it was just Julia and me. “You, too. I’ll draw up those packages and get back to you by tomorrow.”

  “Perfect!”

  Paul seemed ready to leave without saying anything to me until Julia cast him a stern look. “Yes, we look forward to working with you. A joint venture would be beneficial to both of us.”

  I read his subtext, the reminder that I should go along with his ridiculous plan to pretend we were strangers. “I certainly hope so,” I said, my face plastered into a businesslike grin.

  I held my breath until the door shut behind Julia and the unwelcome ghost of my past. Then I let it out in one slow exhalation.

  “What in the hell was that about?”

  One stressor gone, the other still stood by me. At least I couldn’t get arrested for speaking to Celia.

  I headed up the ramp toward the main part of the club, hoping to somehow escape my anxiety attack.

  “Laynie?” Celia pressed, following after me.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You could cut the tension with a knife.”

  I opened my mouth to deny it but what was the point? “Was it that obvious?”

  “Yeah. It was. Wanna talk about it?”

  I stopped walking and paused.

  “Ooh, there’s hesitation.” Her eyes twinkled with the anticipation of gossip. “Let’s talk about it. But not here. Over coffee.”

  I rubbed my fingers over my brows, trying to alleviate the throbbing behind my eyes. “All right.” I didn’t have the energy to argue or make up an excuse. Besides, I needed a drink, and since it was too early for liquor, coffee would make a fine replacement.

  “Great! I’m sure you need to lock up. I’ll head to the coffee shop next door and get us a table.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Celia and I were seated at my favorite cafe in Columbus Circle. I’d already downed a third of my iced double espresso and was realizing that maybe caffeine was exactly the opposite of what I needed because now my shakiness had increased to full-on jitters.

  Celia had so far filled the conversation with easy topics that I was able to respond to with only one- or two-word sentences. Meanwhile, my head spun, unable to concentrate on any one thing for any length of time. The one thing I was sure of was that I shouldn’t be having coffee with Celia Werner. Should. Not.

  “So who was the guy?”

  I rocked back and forth in my chair. “No one. A client.”

  “That’s a lie and you know it. There was all that weird vibe stuff going on.”

  Her eyes bore in to me, but I was unwilling to give anything except a one-shouldered shrug. What would I tell her, anyway? Hudson didn’t even want me talking to her, let alone telling her big important things. And if I did explain about Paul, what if she told Hudson?

  Shit, shit, shit. Hudson.

  I had the distinct feeling that he would not approve of my working with Paul Kresh. And it wasn’t like it was something I could necessarily hide. Hudson did own the club, after all. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Unaware of the turmoil in my mind, Celia tried another method of getting the dirt. “I mean, I get it. He’s yummy, as in I wouldn’t mind having him in my bed for a night or twelve.”

  I chortled. “Good luck with that. His business partner is also his girlfriend.” Of course, Paul had been engaged when he hooked up with me. “On second thought, you probably still have a chance.”

  “Obviously you speak from experience.”

  No shit, Sherlock. I was about as experienced as you could get when it came to Paul Kresh. I knew his habits, his patterns, his workout schedule. Details of his life I’d committed so deeply to memory that they were impossible to forget. Keeping it all bottled up wasn’t helping. I’d learned to cope through talking. I needed to talk.

  “Tell me. You know you want to.”

  Celia was right. I did want to tell her. So I did.

  Hudson had told Celia a few things about my past, but I wasn’t entirely sure what so I told her everything. When I finished she was silent and wide-eyed for several seconds.

  “Damn,” she said finally.

  “Right?”

  “Like, ugh. I don’t even know what to say.” She took a deep breath and straightened from her leaned-in position. “Does Hudson know?”

  “He knows about the restraining order, of course. He told you about that, didn’t he?”

  She nodded. “He mentioned something about it.”

  I tried not to be embarrassed that he’d shared that with Celia. I’d already guessed she knew that much. It made sense why he’d told her. She was in on the scam we’d tried to pull on Sophia and it was important that Celia knew all the details, I supposed.

  Whatever. It didn’t matter what Hudson had said or why, because now I’d told it all to Celia myself. “But he doesn’t know I met with Paul today. I didn’t know I was meeting with him until he showed up. Now I don’t know what to do.”

  I sipped at the straw of my iced espresso that was mostly water by that point. “The obvious answer is to not work with him. That’s what I have to do. And Paul can say whatever he wants, but I can’t put myself and The Sky Launch in that kind of jeopardy.”

  “There you go! You got it worked out.” Celia’s eyes narrowed as if she were
considering. “Except…”

  I had a whole bunch of “excepts” running through my mind. Except working with Paul would be good for the club. Except I owed him. Except he might get mad and cause me trouble if I didn’t go on board with his scheme. Except I really wanted Hudson to think I could do good things with his club.

  I wondered what Celia’s “except” was. “Except what?”

  “Party Planners Plus is getting a really good name around town. It’s impossible to please my mother and she was almost happy with what they did at the MoMA. That’s saying a lot. They’d do great things for the club.” She took a sip of her nonfat latte. “And Hudson would be proud.”

  “Are you reading my mind?”

  She smiled. “I’m just thinking logically.” She set her drink down and seemed to go into planning mode. “Would you have to work with Paul hands-on?”

  “No, I think I could go strictly through Julia.”

  “You could make that a stipulation to signing a contract with them.”

  “But Hudson would freak! My brother would freak!” I said it before I remembered that I’d cut Brian out of my life. “Not that I’m speaking to my brother, but he worked his ass off to get me out of the whole Paul debacle.”

  Celia didn’t bat an eye. “Don’t tell him. Don’t tell either of them.”

  “How can I hide Paul from Hudson? He owns the club!”

  “Your contact is going to be with the girlfriend, right? If Hudson happens to see the paperwork—which is unlikely—it will say Party Planners Plus. If I remember correctly, Paul’s not even really an owner. It’s legally all in Julia’s name.”

  “Right, right. That’s right.” I was impressed. Celia was actually good at this scheming stuff. “But since that’s the case, maybe I should tell Hudson.”

  “You can tell him, but if I know Hudson—and I do—there’s no way he’ll let you keep that contract. He’s too protective of things he considers his. And in this case, that’s not only The Sky Launch, it’s you.”

  My feminist side wanted to get pissy at being considered a man’s object, but the in love side—the more dominant side, at the moment—blushed in agreement. “I know. It was worth a shot though.”

  “So you have two options: forget the contract or forget telling Hudson.”

  I didn’t like either choice. But I wanted that contract. Badly. So badly I could taste it. And feeling like it was a way to pay back Paul made the decision all the richer. “I won’t tell him. I’ll work with Party Planners and Hudson will never be the wiser.”

  “Then I won’t tell him either.” She put her hand up and dangled her last finger. “Pinky swear.”

  Her promise made me feel better. Made me feel like I had someone on my side. Made the lie seem less likely to explode in my face. “Thank you. Talking to you really helps me figure things out.”

  “Of course it does.” She smiled in that way where she knew she was adorable and made no apology for it. “Hey, why didn’t you call me this morning anyway?”

  I took another sip of my watered-down drink while I decided if I should tell her the truth or make up an excuse. After I’d been honest about everything else, I settled on the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to see you. Hudson wasn’t happy when he found out we chatted yesterday.”

  “Hmm. I imagine he didn’t.” She rubbed her lips together, and I wondered briefly how she kept her gloss looking so fresh all the time. “Well, tell you what,” she said after a minute. “We don’t have to tell him about this either. I didn’t tell Jordan I was going to go find you so I’m sure he wouldn’t say anything. You could just not say anything either.”

  The thought had crossed my mind, but only fleetingly. “I’m not sure if I’m good with keeping it from him.” The list of things I wasn’t telling Hudson was getting much longer than I felt was acceptable. My past with David, working with Paul, now seeing Celia behind his back. I looked at my watch. It was only a little after one. Was that too early to have a beer?

  “Sure, I get that. I’m not trying to encourage keeping secrets or anything, but he’s so weird where you’re concerned. Protective or something. The last time I talked to you, he was pissed for days. He thinks I’m going to turn you against him or something.” She rolled her eyes. “But it’s up to you. Just let me know so I’m on the same page.”

  “Okay.” But I planned on telling Hudson about Celia. We were supposed to be working on honesty and the weight from two secrets was heavy enough without adding a third one.

  Chapter Six

  “Precious.”

  It was a quarter after two when I answered my phone to Hudson’s voice. We hadn’t seen each other that morning. He’d slipped out while I was asleep in his bed, but he’d left my phone next to my head and a text message flashed on it telling me to make myself at home and he’d call me later.

  Now, hearing him on the other end of the line, I realized how much I’d missed him in the mere handful of hours we’d been apart.

  “Hey,” I sighed into the receiver. “I’m glad you called.”

  “I said that I would.”

  We’d had so few phone conversations that they still took me by surprise, still delighted me to no end. “I’m glad both that you said you would and that you did.”

  “You are easily pleased.” The smile on his face was apparent through the phone. “How has your day been?”

  “Dreadful until this very moment.” After Celia and I had parted ways, I’d thrown myself into putting together packages for Julia. The work had been fun and had occupied my mind completely. Still, the horror of the morning clung to me like a shadow.

  “Oh? Why? What’s wrong?” Immediately Hudson was on guard, ready to fight whatever battle I was facing.

  His reaction made me eager to tell him about seeing Paul, but I swiftly reminded myself why that would be a bad idea. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just everything is dreadful in comparison to being with you.”

  “I feel the same.”

  Just like that, Hudson could make me weak in the knees. “You don’t know what that does to me to hear you say that.”

  “I can imagine.” The husky tone of his words suggested he was imagining much naughtier things than he was saying out loud.

  “How did your meetings go?” His change of subject was abrupt, and I was sure he’d been thinking naughty things and now he needed a safer topic of discussion.

  Though pleased at Hudson’s obvious arousal, I felt the chill of a shadow at the mention of my earlier meeting. “I’ve only met with one company so far. And it went well. I have to follow up, but I’m pretty sure it’s a done deal.”

  “Of course it is. Who wouldn’t want to work with you?”

  “Should I make a list?” Before that morning, that list would have included Paul Kresh. Funny how quickly things changed.

  “Yes, do. And I’ll have each and every one of them shot.” Something told me he was only half-kidding. Maybe even less than half. “Do you have any plans this evening?”

  I switched over to my browser on my computer and loaded up an image of Hudson to stare at while he spoke. “I had planned to be adored by a hot, virile man.” I traced my finger along the strong jaw of the picture on my monitor. “But I could cancel with him if you have something better in mind.”

  “You’re teasing.”

  “Am I?”

  “You are, and I don’t like it.” His jealous growl was a turn-on. “Some people I know are holding an event at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and I’d like to be there. With you.”

  “I’m all yours, H. Every time.”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up at the club around six.”

  I looked down at my outfit—a dark green flare dress with a cut-out row of crisscrosses across my abdomen. It had a sense of class to it but perhaps was a little too risqué. “No, pick me up at my apartmen
t. I need to change first.”

  “What you’re wearing is perfect.”

  “How do you know what I’m wearing?” I looked around, half-surprised when I didn’t see him standing in the office doorway. “Do you have security cameras in the club or something?” I wouldn’t put it past him. I shivered, realizing what else cameras might have recorded. Like my meeting with Paul.

  “Of course I have cameras. But I don’t monitor their feed. Jordan told me what you were wearing.”

  “Ah, yes, Jordan.” This was the second time my actions had been given away by him. If Hudson had spoken to my driver today, had he learned that Celia had been inquiring after me? How much did Hudson rely on Jordan to fill him in?

  I tensed, the stress of carrying my secrets beginning to wear on me and raising my level of paranoia. “Tell me—is Jordan more than just my driver?”

  “You didn’t want a bodyguard. I had to compromise.”

  Hudson’s matter-of-factness was almost as unnerving as what he was admitting. “So Jordan spies on me for you?”

  “Spy is not an accurate description of what he does. He drives you places, makes sure you’re safe, and reports back to me.”

  For a moment I considered arguing about the arrangement. But after I let the idea settle, I realized it wasn’t so bad to be cared for by an overly cautious boyfriend.

  I exhaled, letting my anxiety go.

  “I heard that sigh. Tell me what bothers you about this?”

  “Nothing, really. Only I wouldn’t have come on to Jordan so unmistakably if I’d known he was reporting back to you.” It was an obvious joke, considering Jordan was hired to drive me because he was gay.

  “We both know that didn’t happen,” he scolded. “That’s twice you’ve tried to rile me. What exactly is your motive?”

  “No motive. It’s just fun to hear you get all possessive alpha male.”

  “If you want possessive alpha male, I can certainly comply.”

  I smiled, leaning back into my seat. “I want you to be you. Which is already really possessive alpha male, but if there’s more of that you’re keeping from me, bring it on.”