Forever With You by Laurelin Paige
"Hudson still has bodyguards on you, does he?" David asked as we headed up the stairs to the manager's office.
Still had bodyguards. The last time I'd had them had been because of Celia. Then I’d gone years without them. Now I had them again, so to David it looked like I’d had them forever.
It was easier not to get into it. It was easier just to say, “He’s very protective.”
Because that was true too.
Forty-five minutes later, I'd dazzled David with my presentation. And completely bored Gwen, who had now seen it for the seventh time and likely knew it as well as I did.
I selfishly ignored her yawns and doleful stares in my direction. After my morning, after the reminder from my husband that he always knew best, I needed a little pick-me-up. David's praise hit the spot. I'd forgotten how supportive he'd always been of me and my ideas. In many ways, David had been a better cheerleader for me in business than Hudson. David was good at what he did, knew how to run a good nightclub and all, but he didn't think outside the box very often, and so any time that I did, he was immediately struck with how brilliant and amazing and innovative the idea was.
Hudson, while always supportive of me, was also smart as hell. Sometimes it felt hard to impress a man who'd already been there and done that. Not that I needed to impress him all the time, but occasionally was nice. But even when I did get his praise, it was hard not to worry that he was also judging my ideas, critiquing them, coming up with a better plan that he was kind enough not to lord over me.
My plans for the expansion definitely excited David.
"This is going to knock every other nightclub off the rails," he said. "Eighty-eighth Floor is going to immediately try to copy you. You know that, right? And I predict at least three other clubs go out of business within six months. No, not three. Five."
I blushed. "Stop it. You are being way too nice." But I said stop it in that tone that said go on.
Gwen rolled her eyes, and I continued to ignore her.
He did go on. "I'm not kidding. I know you already increased business tenfold when you went to seven days a week. Adding the restaurant and the advance rentals for private, high-end events, was a game changer. There aren't any other clubs in town that even have the equity to do what you're thinking of doing, and by the time they catch up, you’re already on to the next thing. Thumbs up, Laynie. You done good. Proud of you."
If it were possible to go redder, I would have. But I was also proud of me, too. This was exactly what I had hoped I could bring to The Sky Launch all those years ago when I was young and naïve and nervous as hell before my first presentation in this office. And now I’d done it. So I smiled and said, "Thank you."
"Oh, speaking of the expansion," Gwen said suddenly perking up as though she'd been half-asleep. She opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out a single key. "Lee Chong dropped this off so you can go over there any time and do measurements and whatnot for whatever you need to do architecturally. It opens the door in the stairwell that connects to ours. So you don't even have to go outside and around to get in."
I stood up from the sofa where I was sitting with David and crossed over to her to grab it.
"I know what I'm doing this afternoon," I said, slipping it onto my keyring. "After I finish helping you clean up from the job fair, that is." It was the least I could do after all that Gwen had sat through. Seven takes of my presentation was proof she was a great friend, eye-rolls or not.
"Is it really that late? I need to get going." David stood up from the couch and we said our goodbyes. Gwen had worked with him for a just couple of weeks, so it made sense that she only gave him a nod.
Me on the other hand, I let him give me another big, warm embrace. It was selfish of me, and I knew that. But it felt safe there, in his arms, at that moment. It didn't mean that I was attracted to him or that I wanted him in any way—quite the contrary. The interest I had in him even back then had been because he felt safe.
The truth was, I didn't really want safe. Not that kind of safe. I wanted Hudson and everything that went with him.
But for just a moment, it was nice to have a break from it all.
To pretend for just one long moment that there was no one in the world who had ever looked at my daughter with malice, to pretend the expansion was the most important thing in my life.
One calming breath, and it was over.
"Laynie, you can't hire him, you know," Gwen said, the minute David walked out of the room. She said it so quickly, so immediately after he was gone, that I had the sense she'd been waiting to say it the entire time he’d been there.
"Why not? I know Hudson transferred him in the first place because he was jealous, but that was before we were married. Surely he understands he's got the girl now."
Gwen gaped. "You seriously don't know? David was fired from Adora because of the sexual harassment scandal. The whole remodel thing is a total cover-up."
Now I was the one gaping. "How do you know that?" It was the first I was hearing of it, which meant it had to be a mistake.
Except, Gwen had a reliable source. "Chandler told me."
"Oh my god." Every bit of relaxation and ease from the last hour evaporated in the blink of an eye. So much for finding safe harbor in a hug.
"Oh my god," I said again. My blood was boiling. "And Hudson didn't tell me?" I was so mad I could punch something. Punch someone. A particular someone. "Jesus Christ, I can't even believe him. Was he afraid that was going to break me too?"
Add this to the list of reasons my husband was not sleeping with me tonight.
"That really sucks he didn't tell you…" Gwen said carefully. "You don't have any reaction to the harassment accusation, though?"
Oh. That.
My initial fury at being left out, again, whooshed out of me in a rush. I sank back down on the couch and pressed my head into the back cushion.
"You know what I kept thinking while David was here?” I asked after a moment of considering. “Why can't Hudson's people from the past be as easy to deal with as the people from mine? That was a real naïve thing to be thinking, I guess." I sighed, trying to decide if I wanted details.
I didn't. It was one too many scandals for me to think about.
"I assume that if Pierce Industries went to this much trouble to fire David and come up with a remodeling cover-up, then they have received verifiable complaints from employees, and that it's not just some rumors." I glanced at Gwen for confirmation.
She leaned across the desk and propped her chin up in her hands, her elbows resting on the surface of the desk. "I don’t know all the specifics, but I know it was several women that filed the complaints. It wasn't against just David—there were several managers involved in the accusations. Now, I don't know how credible they are…"
I looked her in the eye. "If a woman feels harassed, she's been harassed." I sighed again. "Poor Hudson. What a mess.”
I tried to think about the David I had worked with, the David I'd had a personal relationship with, tried to imagine him in light of these new allegations. The guy who’d given me my first managerial position, along with a shot of tequila. If I imagined Mina in my own place, how did I want her to be treated in her place of employment?
And then I had to admit that I knew things were off.
"David was often inappropriate. He was my boss, and he and I engaged in the exchange of sexual favors on the premises. During business hours. And I encouraged it."
She scowled at me. "That sounds like you making excuses for him."
"I’m not. I'm not defending him at all. I'm just owning my part of what happened between us. He would make jokes in poor taste. I laughed at them because I thought they were his way of flirting, and I wanted him to be flirting with me."
It was so strange how I could remember so vividly wanting that, but couldn't summon up a single ounce of the feeling of wanting him anymore.
"I don't know what he would have done if I hadn't returned his advances like I did.
That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair. That was harassment.
"Did you like him, then?" Gwen asked, puzzled. "When I met you, you definitely didn't."
"I thought I should like him. If that makes sense. I was looking for a guy that I wasn't really into. I was too afraid if I was into someone, I'd get crazy over him."
She grinned. "How did that work out for you?"
I couldn't help but return the smile. "Hudson definitely makes me crazy."
And I didn't want it any other way.
We went downstairs then and helped get the club turned over from the job fair back to a dance floor. It was after five by that time. I knew Hudson would be back at the penthouse soon. I knew I should be going home too. We were going to need to have a very long talk about today, about the state of us. I was as confident as ever in our love. My faith in our communication, though, had been shaken one too many times lately.
But I really did want to check out the space next door for a while first, so the next time we went up the back stairs, I split off down the hallway to the private door that entered into Lee Chong’s space.
It was quiet inside, and dark. I’d left my phone in the office so it took a bit of fumbling around before I found a switch to turn on some lights. A few bulbs immediately blew, the place having sat unused for so long. As soon as the room was dimly lit, I heard a noise behind me, a quick shuffling that made me nervous about mice. Or rats. The scourge of New York.
But then the shuffling sounded more like footsteps, and I walked back toward the door I'd come in, wondering if I was hearing someone in the hall outside.
Before I got to the door, another clip of footsteps made me realize I truly wasn't alone.
My heart sped up to twice its normal rate, and I began sweating profusely. I was sure I was being paranoid, but I was also creeped the fuck out. I took another cautious step toward the door, away from the sounds in the shadows, whispering curse words to myself the entire time, and wishing I had my phone.
Suddenly, a form stepped out in front of me, making me jump at least two feet in the air.
I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, it's you."
That was the last thought I remembered having before the world went black.
18
Hudson
She was punishing me.
I deserved it, I knew I did, but this—not responding to my texts, not coming home at a decent hour—this was especially egregious. It was past eight. I'd already tucked the kids into bed; the nanny was waiting for my cue to send her home.
And I would, as soon as I felt less anxious about where the hell my wife was.
The day at Celia's hotel room had been fairly productive in the end. We'd gone through almost all of the journals and made significant notes. Luckily, before Alayna had left, she shared the spreadsheet she'd made with me so that I could still continue entering the information as we gathered it even after she left. Celia and I could've probably made it through the rest of the work left to be done in another couple of hours, but I hadn't wanted to stay any longer than I already had.
Like the slow descent of a fever, my guilt and shame at the way I’d treated my wife—whether in the hopes of protecting her or not—became too distracting for me to continue staring into the abyss of my past without letting the present bleed into it.
I needed to be home to work things out with Alayna.
As important as nailing down the source of this threat was, it was equally important that she and I remain a team. I wasn’t sure one could happen without the other. So I'd left Celia's a little before five, intending to spend the evening making things right with my wife.
And now she was the one who wasn't home.
She was definitely punishing me.
But I couldn't ignore the gripping panic that maybe it was something more. Surely it was paranoia, anxiety created from this looming danger. But it was cold and real and it wouldn't let go. This sickening, vivid fear that she wasn't home because she couldn't be.
I texted her again. In all caps so she knew I was serious.
ALAYNA. CALL ME NOW.
I stared at the screen of my phone, waiting for the bubbles to indicate she was responding, not even with a fuck off. I would take a fuck off right now just fine.
Three minutes passed. Five.
Nothing.
I was hovering. I didn't want to hover. She hated it when I hovered. Wasn’t that half the reason she was mad right now? Because I tried to ease situations for her that I knew she was strong enough to handle, but why should she when she didn't have to? If I'd stayed out of it, never contacted Celia about the engagement party, Alayna would have been uncomfortable when we went, but she would've survived. She would've survived beautifully, with her head held high.
And if she’d needed a day or two in bed, upset and processing and obsessively looking through pictures of the event on social media, what would that have mattered?
I trusted her to come back to me when she was through her anxiety.
Maybe that was the key. Maybe she wasn't punishing me—but rather, was testing me. Seeing if I was capable of actually letting her go to work and not interfering. Not showing up, cold and demanding, when she lost track of time.
Because in truth, I was the one who wasn't strong enough.
For all that I blamed her for giving in to her overactive mind, I was the one who worried too much. Who was overprotective. Who couldn't handle the thought of her suffering, even only slightly. She was the one who alerted me to possibilities, her mind skittering from one thing to the next even as she stayed my rock.
The truth was, without me, Alayna was still brilliant and clever and lovely and big-hearted and enough. But without her, I was nothing.
"Mr. Pierce," Payton disrupted my musings, standing in the doorway of my office.
She had caught me standing, staring at my phone, likely looking like the idiot that I was. I shook it off and rubbed my fingers across my forehead.
"Yes, Payton. You want to go home." I needed to send her away. Send her and prove that I was not the one prone to overreacting.
But what if…
"I'm sorry. Do you mind staying for another couple of hours or so? I may need to run out, and I haven't managed to get a hold of Alayna to see when she'll be home. I’ll pay you time and a half for the inconvenience."
She smiled. "No problem. Can I grab something off of Mrs. Pierce's shelves to read again? I finished Madame Bovary and I’m having a total book hangover."
"Certainly," I answered, half listening to the nonsense words she was stringing together. "Oh, and of course I don't mind if you turn on Netflix in the guest room either."
I was pretty sure that's really what she did when she said she was reading anyway. Might as well give her permission.
"Thanks, Mr. Pierce," she said, her cheeks pinking. A sure giveaway that I'd been right. But she swiped another book off the shelf before hurrying out of the room and down to the nanny's quarters. Perhaps two things could be right at the same time.
Alayna still hadn't answered my text. I considered putting my phone down and walking away from it, but I'd already kept the nanny. I'd already failed the test, if there was one.
But if indeed, it was a test, it existed for her too. If I trusted her to stay late at work, I also didn’t trust whatever forces were working against us. And she knew that. She knew I would keep trying if she didn’t respond to me. She knew I would go around her. She hated it when I did that.
On one occasion, she’d said, “My employees need to see me as a boss, not as someone’s little lady.”
I’d told her that she was someone’s little lady, and that it would do her employees well to remember that everyone was responsible to someone else.
She’d smacked me, before laughing hard and kissing me.<
The memory absolved my guilt for what I was about to do.
I hit the button that speed-dialed The Sky Launch. The number I used went straight to the office. Penny answered, one of the newer managers who had come on board since Alayna's bedrest. I didn't know her very well except for what had shown up on her background report. I'd run one after Gwen had hired her, wanting to double check that she wasn't some petty crook or a con artist. The report had come back clean.
I really did have have a problem with overstepping.
"Hello, this is Hudson Pierce. I'm looking for my wife. She's not answering her phone, and I wanted to check in on her."
"Oh, how sweet."
It wasn't sweet, it was pathetic. And maddening. It was too soon to understand how the father of a teenager must feel. The fearful protection, the loving panic.
"But she isn’t here," Penny said next.
Finally. She was on her way home. "Can you tell me what time she left? So I can know when to expect her."
"I haven't seen her all night. And my shift started at six. Perhaps you’re incorrect?"
Ice cold fear ran down my spine.
"No, Penny, she was there. You're sure you haven’t seen her at all?" My mind was already running wild with the implications of what she’d said.
"I'm sure," Penny said, apologetically. "Would you like me to take a message in case she shows up?"
"No. Thank you." I was already onto my next move. In fact, I didn't even say goodbye before hanging up. I logged into the app where Jordan shared all the information relevant to our security, including the schedule of the bodyguards and each of their contact information. I should have done this first, perhaps, but a call from me directly seemed less intrusive than an interruption from an armed man in black.
According to today’s schedule, a man named Alan Dawes had been assigned to her. I called him directly.
"Where are you?" I asked sharply when he answered.
"Same place I've been all day, Mr. Pierce. Sitting in one of those weird circle rooms at the club. Your wife, I must say, is a workaholic. She hasn't left the manager’s office all afternoon."