Page 33 of Off the Record

I called Simone Sunday and told her everything. Together, we’ve started hunting for new positions, hoping to find a paper that will take us both. We put Hudson as our primary employer contact, and I know he won’t do anything to jeopardize new positions for us. But for now we work here, and Hudson is still my boss. At least until I have another way to pay my rent or he fires me.

Whichever comes first.

It’s much easier to reject the man through Slack than with his sharp blue eyes piercing me, but I press forward anyway.

“How about an email?” I offer, then look back at my computer.

He gives a very quiet, frustrated huff. “Okay.” After another beat, he walks away. But he doesn’t go back to his office—he heads for the elevators and leaves the floor entirely.

I don’t get an email and Hudson doesn’t return for the rest of the day, which is extremely distracting. I want to know where he is, what he’s doing, whom he’s speaking to. I’m very much not over my crush yet, which is probably part of the reason this all hurts so much.

“Drinks tonight?” Simone asks while we’re gathering our things to leave for the day.

“It’s my brother’s birthday, so we’re having a sibling dinner.” I watch Andrea close up the things at her desk and debate following her out. As the office secretary, and now Hudson’s personal assistant whenever the office dissolves, she might know what he’s been doing all day.

She’s starting for the elevators. I need to run.

“Have a good night,” I call to Simone, speed walking my way toward Andrea. I hop into the elevator as the doors are closing.

She looks up from her phone, surprised to see me.

“Just hitching a ride,” I say lightly. “Any fun plans tonight?”

It’s Wednesday, not the weekend, and perilously close to the end of the month. Hudson is supposed to give his superiors his recommendations for the company moving forward. Has she seen his notes? Had to make photocopies or send emails? She’s seen the list, but has it been altered? Who exactly is going to remain? All these questions float in my head.

“Just meeting up with Marty for dinner,” she says.

“How are things going with him?” They haven’t been together terribly long, if I remember correctly.

She shrugs. “Good so far. No complaints.”

Why is she being cagey?

She glances at her phone, then the elevator doors. “Are you okay, Paisley?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you followed me up to the executive floor.” The doors ding, sliding open, and Hudson is standing on the other side, looking at his phone, a briefcase in one hand. I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t seen him since this morning or because I haven’t stopped thinking of him since, but my entire body goes wild, bursting with hot and cold at the sight of him. When his vivid blue eyes meet mine, the explosion turns to chills. I want to be anywhere but here.

Andrea steps out, breaking the taut line of emotion between us. “I’ll leave the information on your desk?” she asks him.

“That would be great. Thanks, Andrea. Have a good night.”

When Andrea leaves the elevator, Hudson steps in. He presses the button for the parking garage and stands there, waiting for the doors to close. Silence presses in. I feel like I need to say something, but fragments of thoughts jumble together, making my brain a bowl of spaghetti.

“Are your nails dry yet?”

I glance at him, my expression falling to a wry, flat-lipped hideous thing.

“I would have sent your fish flowers, but I didn’t know if they’d poison her water,” he says.

He must know I don’t have a fish on my desk.

“I think the most concerning thing is your feet paralysis. You should really have that looked at. I know a good ped?—”

“Oh, cut it out,” I mutter. “You know it’s all bogus.”

“What a relief,” he says dryly.

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