Chapter Eighteen

I jumped on the first train that was available and found an empty seat in the back, my hands shaking and my heart pounding.

God, what had I done?

I couldn’t decide if I was scared or exhilarated. Probably an equal combination of both. Because, damn. I’d punched Celia Werner. And probably broke her cute little nose. That was surely going to get a cop or two knocking on my door. And, with her power and money, they’d take her charge seriously. I’d had trouble with the law in the past. Having another incident on my record was not something I was looking forward to.

On the other hand—I punched Celia fucking Werner. And holy fuck did it feel good.

I had to do something, tell someone. I considered my options—Brian had always been my go-to person for getting me out of sticky situations. That had been hard on our relationship, and now that we were getting along, involving him wasn’t my ideal choice.

That put Hudson at the top of my list. He was better suited to go up against the Werners. While I was pretty sure that he would be one hundred percent supportive and take care of anything I needed, calling him with the news promised to be embarrassing. Especially since I’d ditched my bodyguard. He wouldn’t be pleased with that.

Cell service was spotty underground, but I managed to get through. Unfortunately, I reached his voicemail. I tried a couple of times with the same result. Hudson had said he had meetings all day. I was sure that was where he was. I chose not to leave a message. Instead, I texted him to call me ASAP and hoped to heaven I got to him before Celia did.

Because she would try to contact him too. Of that I was certain.

And what about what she’d told me? As much as I didn’t want to let her get to me, I couldn’t help but think about the things she’d said. I didn’t automatically believe her—why would I?

But her proof…

I shook off the idea. Somehow she found out about Hudson’s name for me. That had to be it. There was no way he’d called her that too. And, yes, he was dominating in bed, but anyone who knew him would assume that.

The only reason it continued to nag at me was that I still hadn’t heard Hudson’s confession. Was this what he meant to tell me all along? That he’d been with Celia? That he’d slept with her while with me?

I didn’t think so. I didn’t want to think so. It was too easy, too predictable. Hudson was never predictable.

Except if that wasn’t it…

The alternate possibility that had started to form in my mind was worse than what Celia had suggested. Much worse. Like, it would shatter my world to discover it were true. I couldn’t entertain the idea long enough to work through it, even to try and discount it.

So I didn’t think about it at all. Buried it until I had to deal with it. If I had to deal with it.

Meanwhile, I needed someone to give me some advice. Besides Brian, who would know how police handled battery charges? I considered David and Liesl. Mira and Jack were even possibilities. Finally, I settled on someone who I was sure would be able to handle the situation the best.

Jordan answered on the first ring.

“Hey, I know your shift doesn’t start for a bit, but I’m sort of in a situation and I need your help.”

“I can be at the penthouse in twenty-five.”

He was already about to hang up when I stopped him. “Actually, I’m not there. I’m just walking off the subway at Grand Central Station.”

There was only a minor pause before he asked, “Reynold’s not with you?”

“No.” I should have been more regretful, but I wasn’t. “I’ll explain when I see you. Can you come meet me?”

“Yep. In fact, if you’re at Grand Central, I can be there in ten.”

We agreed on a place to meet. Then I hung up and waited for him to show.

True to his word, Jordan was indeed only ten minutes away. He must live nearby. Funny how little I knew about the man.

We found an empty bench and talked without leaving the station. I caught him up quickly, leaving nothing out. Well, very little out. I didn’t mention what it was exactly Celia had said to cause my fist to fly.

Jordan seemed neither surprised nor judgmental of my story. “Have you called Hudson?”

“I tried. I got voicemail.” I’d tried again while waiting for Jordan with the same result.

“That’s fine. It’s really not urgent. Here’s what’s probably going to happen: Celia will likely have gone to the ER. Because of who she is and the pull she has, I’d assume she’d get the police to take her complaint there. With a simple one-swing hit, the cops will often forget the whole thing. They won’t because she’s a Werner.”

“Could I be arrested?” It was the question most pressing on my mind.

He shook his head. “They’ll track you down and give you a court date. No warrants, no arrests. There will be plenty of time for Mr. Pierce to get the whole thing dropped—which he will. You know that, right?”

“I do.” I wrung my hands in my lap. “At least, I think I do. I also feel shitty about being a burden.”

Jordan laughed—I’d never heard him outright laugh. He was nearly as serious and on-task as Hudson. “That man could never think of you as a burden, Laynie. He turned mountains over to get your last charge completely expunged. And the deal he’s working on now has been much more problematic than it will be for him to get rid of any charge from Celia.”

I’d known Hudson had buried my restraining order violation, but Jordan’s last words were news to me. “What does the deal he’s working on now have to do with me?”

He studied me carefully. “I’m sorry, Laynie. That’s going to have to come from him. My point is that you’re not his burden. You’re his reason.”

I savored Jordan’s words. I needed them right then. Especially with Hudson out of reach, I needed the reminder that he was still there for me. “Thank you, Jordan. I appreciate that more than you can understand. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

Jordan’s mouth tightened, and I knew he was being careful how much he said. “Depends on how his meetings go today.”

Why did it feel like everyone knew some big secret about this business deal that I didn’t? Hudson, Norma, even Jordan. From what I’d gathered, it wasn’t anything bad. Then why was I not allowed to know?

Hudson had promised me I could find out anything I wanted to know when we talked. This was definitely going on the list. I’d rather hear things from him than my bodyguard anyway, so I didn’t press.

I checked the clock on my phone. There was only a little over an hour before David’s shindig. Maybe I should just head there. Unless that was going to be a problem. “The club is closed on Sundays, but we’re having a party for my coworker who’s going away. Do you think the police will show up there? I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“Nah. They’ll either show up at the penthouse or wait until normal business hours to find you at work. You’ll be fine.”

“I know I have to face them eventually, but I’d rather not today.” Shit, I was such a coward.

If Jordan agreed with my assessment of myself, he didn’t indicate as such. “Let’s do this: we can take the train back uptown. I’ll leave you at The Sky Launch—I don’t expect Ms. Werner to show up and bother you tonight.”

“No. Not likely.” Though, I wouldn’t mind seeing how much damage I’d actually incurred. Just thinking about it brought a smile to my face.

“The car is parked at the penthouse. I’ll go and get it and come back to the club. Then we can leave whenever you want.” Jordan casually watched the subway passengers as they walked past us. Or it appeared casual. The more I learned about him, the more I realized nothing he did was casual.

And he was always thinking. “I bet that the police will stop by tomorrow morning, Laynie. If you prefer to stay away from them until Mr. Pierce gets back, I could take you to the loft tonight after the party instead.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll consider it.” Except I hoped that when I finally reached Hudson, he’d take care of things for me so I wouldn’t have to hide out anywhere.

But even if Hudson could get rid of a battery charge, he couldn’t protect us from her forever. He hadn’t been able to stop her stalking. Surely now she’d up her game. I thought of Jack’s advice from our lunch—the only way to get rid of her was to let her think she’d won. Punching her in the face definitely wasn’t letting her win. By striking against her, had I made the worst move possible? More than ever I feared that Celia Werner would be a permanent fixture in my future. Could Hudson and I survive that?

* * *

The problem with holing up at The Sky Launch was that I wasn’t in the mood to be there. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do anything for the party except open the doors for the caterers. Hudson had arranged the whole thing, including an open bar. It was beyond generous on his part—probably his way of apologizing for the circumstances in which David was leaving.

Everyone on staff had been allowed a plus one. With David’s friends and the few regulars that had been invited, the total guest list numbered around a hundred. It was a true party. The whole thing might have been fun if my plus one was there. But he wasn’t. And by ten, I still hadn’t heard from him.

“Put the fucking phone down and boogie with me,” Liesl urged. I’d filled her in on the day’s events when she arrived. Her feeling was that if I was going to face policemen tomorrow, I should party harder tonight.

She and I were definitely different people.

“Laynie, I love you and I’m here for you if you truly need me. But you seem to have moping down on your own so I’m going to leave you to it and go have a good time.” She tugged at a strand of my hair. “Forgive me?”

“Totally forgive you. Go. Have fun.”

She gave me a peck on the lips and joined a raucous group in the center of the floor. I tried not to feel abandoned. It wasn’t Liesl I wanted anyway.

Determined to not spoil the evening for anyone else, I sat curled up on one of the sofas that lined the main floor and nursed my champagne while I watched the crowd dance and mingle in front of me. It was probably a good idea for me to sit out anyway. Most of them were my employees, after all. There should be a level of separation and respect.

I wondered how much respect I’d get if they all watched me get dragged out in handcuffs.

Stop it, I scolded myself. Jordan said there’d be no arrests, and Hudson would fix everything before it came to a head, though it wouldn’t surprise me if Celia reported my assault to the media.

God, the media!

I closed my eyes, wincing at the thought. Please, Hudson, call me. Please!

“Mind if I join you?” a voice shouted over the pulsing beat.

Opening my eyes, I found Gwen in front of me.

She was already taking a seat before I answered. “By all means, join me.” I scanned the room again. Though not everyone was dancing, I appeared to be the only loner. Was that why Gwen had come over?

Fuck, I hoped not. I wasn’t in the mood to be jollied up. Might as well let her know that right off the bat. “Why aren’t you out there?” Maybe she’d get the hint and join the crowd on the dance floor.

She furrowed her brow and I realized that the drink in her hand had not been her first. If she wasn’t drunk already, she was on her way. “I’m not really into…” She trailed off as if forgetting what she was saying.

I finished for her. “Dancing?”

“Actually, I was going to say people.” She added an amendment. “Besides, they’re our employees. It doesn’t seem right to party hard with them tonight when I might be writing them up tomorrow.”

Damn, she was a good manager. “Gwen? I’m starting to like you. What’s up with that?”

She almost laughed. “I’m sure it won’t last. Give it time.” Her words were heavy, as if she had a sad story to back them up. Or perhaps she was simply a somber drunk.

If she wasn’t outright going to share, I wasn’t going to ask. I had my own problems. For the tenth time in fifteen minutes I hit the screen of my phone, checking for a missed call or text.

Nothing.

Jordan had already returned with the car and was now hanging out in the employee lounge watching something on PBS. I shot him a message: Any word from Hudson?

His reply came fast. Nope. West coast is 3 hours behind. It’s only six there. Give him time.

It had already been five hours since I first texted Hudson to call me. How much time did he need?

Gwen interrupted my thoughts. “You keep checking that thing. Are you expecting a better offer?”

With a sigh, I stuffed my phone in my bra. “Just waiting for Hudson to call. He’s in L.A. for a couple of days. I hadn’t realized I’d been so obvious.”

She groaned. “God, you’re so lovesick, it’s disgusting.”

I tilted my head. “Do you not approve of me with Hudson?”

Gwen shrugged. “I don’t give a flying fig about you and Hudson. It’s love I don’t approve of. I get it enough with Nor—” She stopped, catching herself before she finished her sister’s name. “Anyway. Seems there’s love all around. I’m over it.”

She didn’t know I was already aware of Norma and Boyd’s fling. I didn’t bother to tell her. It was her anti-romance attitude that intrigued me. Did she feel abandoned by her sister since she’d started fooling around with her assistant? Knowing almost nothing about Gwen, it was hard to say.

Then it hit me. “Ooh, Gwen’s got a heartache story.” Things were clicking in place. For the first time that evening, I felt slightly interested in something other than myself. “Is that why you were so eager to leave Eighty-Eighth Floor?”

Her eyes glossed over, whether from memory or alcohol, I wasn’t sure. She opened her mouth to say something. Then her focus returned. “Nice try. I’m drunk, but I’m not that drunk.” She took another swallow of her Wild Turkey and glanced at my half-full glass of champagne. “Speaking of which, why don’t you join me on the intoxicatrain?”

“Not much of a drinker.” With my low tolerance, I was already feeling a little tipsy, and I planned on being sober when I talked to Hudson.

“Hmm.” She looked me over as if sizing me up. Then her attention went to the crowd tearing it up on the dance floor. She took another swallow of her drink. “I heard you saying something about addiction to Liesl. Are you a former alky?”

I laughed. She was as curious about me as I was about her. Perhaps if I spilled my story, she’d spill hers. Except at the moment, bonding wasn’t exactly on my priority list. “Uh-uh. Not happening. You have your secrets, I have mine.”

Gwen smiled. “I’m good with that.”

“So this is where the party is.” David leaned over the back of the sofa between our heads.

“Ha ha. Sarcasm. Nice.” Gwen finished off her glass and set it on the table next to her.

David ignored Gwen and turned his attention to me. “This night is supposed to be my last chance with my favorite people. And my most favorite people is over here moping. What’s up with that?”

His reference to me as his favorite people made me tense only slightly. He was on his way out of town. No need to worry about his intentions.

And he was right. This night was about him, not me. “Shit, I’m sorry, David. This is supposed to be a party, and I’m crashing it with my bad mood.”

He crossed around in front of the sofa and sat on the low table in front of us. “Why are you in a bad mood, anyway? You were so…peppy…the last two days.” His brows lifted, hopeful. “Trouble in paradise?”

It was sweet how he never stopped trying. “I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think so.” Though telling Hudson about my lapse in self-control might alter that.

Why hadn’t he called yet? And did Jordan really know how the NYC legal system worked?

I bit my lip with worry. “There is the fact that I could be arrested soon.” It was easier to let info slip with David than Gwen.

David glanced questioningly at Gwen. “Don’t look at me,” she said with a shrug. “She doesn’t tell me jack shit.”

He wrapped his hands around the edges of the table on either side of him. “I think I need to hear more.”

For half a second I considered spilling it all. But that wasn’t fair to David. He’d been a good manager and a good friend. Was this any way to send him off?

“No, you really don’t need to hear more. Forget I said anything. Please. I’m being melodramatic.” Hopefully.

“Let me know if I can do anything?” That was David. Never the type to push or pry. At one time, I’d fooled myself into thinking that could be enough for me. That he’d be safer. That he was the guy that would keep me sane.

Now I knew differently. Though Hudson pushed and pried and drove me crazy, he was the nearest thing to clarity I knew.

That was why I needed him so desperately at the moment.

But sitting around lamenting his absence wasn’t going to bring him to me. And it was a hell of a lousy way to say goodbye to my friend.

Putting on the happiest face I could muster, I set my glass down. “You know what you can do, David? You can cheer me up.” I stood up and nodded toward the floor. “Let’s dance, shall we?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Instead of joining the rest of the crowd in the center of the floor, we stuck to an empty corner. A few minutes into the dance mix of David Guetta’s Titanium, I felt better. It had been forever since I’d let myself loose, since I’d stopped worrying and fretting and just lived in the moment. I closed my eyes and let the beat overtake me, let my feet and hips move as they liked. Sweat gathered at my brow and my breath got short, but I was alive—alive in the way that only the club made me. Soon my anxiousness dissolved and all I was thinking about was the present—the music, the lights flashing around us, the friend standing in front of me. It was exactly what I needed.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been dancing or how many songs had played before the DJ faded into a slow song. The club never played slow songs. I looked to David, my brow raised.

“Someone must have requested it.” He held his hand out for me. “Let’s not waste it, shall we?”

A voice in my head nagged that it was a bad idea. If David had asked for the song to be played—and I was certain he had—then he’d meant it for me. He’d meant it as a means to get me in his arms. It would be wrong—I had a boyfriend that I loved with my entire being. Hudson wouldn’t like it, and that was reason enough to not engage. Every impulse in my body said to walk away.

Except there was a flicker of emotion in my chest that I couldn’t ignore—a need for closure, perhaps, or a touch of melancholy for what once was or what could have been. Or maybe it was simply the alcohol and the adrenaline and the need for someone to hold me after all the stress and anxiety of the day.

And Hudson wasn’t there, so what could one dance hurt?

Without another thought, I took David’s hand and let him pull me into his arms. He was warm in a way that I’d forgotten. Like a giant teddy bear. He wasn’t nearly as cut or as trim as Hudson, but he was strong and easy to fall into.

I rested my head on his shoulder as we swayed together. Closing my eyes, I listened to the words of the song and relaxed into our final embrace. The singer was familiar, but I couldn’t remember his name. He sang to his love, telling her that she was in his veins, that he could not get her out.

They were words that made me think of Hudson. He was so deeply imprinted on me that he’d seeped through my skin and into my veins. He was my life force, each pulse of my heart sending another shock of love through my body.

Was this how David felt about me?

A strange mixture of panic and sorrow and a little bit of contentment washed over me as I realized that it was exactly how David felt about me. If I had any doubt, it was cleared when he began singing the words at my ear. “I cannot get you out.”

I stopped moving with him and leaned back to look at his eyes. He knew, right? Knew that this was wrong, that I was spoken for? That I didn’t feel the same way about him?

If he did know, he didn’t care. He pressed forward, taking my lips in his before I knew what was happening. His kiss was shocking and unwelcomed. Immediately I pushed him away.

The sadness in David’s eyes pierced through me. I knew that depth of heartache. It tore me up to know I was the cause of his.

There was nothing I could do for it but shake my head and bite back tears.

David started to speak—to apologize maybe, or to try to persuade me to give him a chance. Before he said anything, though, his eyes moved upward to a point behind me, his expression stricken with alarm.

I knew without looking who was standing behind me. Wasn’t it fate’s sick way of paying me back for all the shit I’d pulled in my lifetime? Put the person who I wanted most in the situation I wanted him in the least? That’s why he hadn’t returned my call, why I couldn’t reach him—he’d been coming home.

Slowly, I turned toward him. His jacket was off, his shirt wrinkled from traveling. He’d loosened his tie and his jaw had a layer of end-of-day scruff. It was his face that I focused on, though. The pain in David’s eyes was nothing compared to what I found in Hudson’s. The anguish there was unbearable, his expression filled with so much pain I wondered if there could be any balm to soothe it.

For the second time that night I asked myself, god, what have I done?

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