Page 71 of Scandalous Contract
Ignoring him, I addressed the others. "Alright, everyone, there’s nothing to see here. Let's get back to work. I’m going to go put these in the breakroom for now."
Courtney and the guard dispersed, leaving me alone with Hudson, whose glare bore into me.
"I thought you said you weren't ready for a relationship," he said, his tone edged with frustration.
"I'm not," I replied firmly.
He stepped closer. “Then why is some guy sending you flowers with a note like that?”
“That’s none of your business,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.
He didn’t flinch. “If it involves you, it is my business.”
I lifted my chin. “Excuse me?”
“Haven’t I been patient with you, Stefanie?” he asked. “Haven’t I been there for you all these years, even after your husband passed, even after everything he put you through with the whole...”
“Stop it,” I hissed, anger rising.
How dare he try to bring that up? He went silent, but only for a second.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just don’t understand why you keep pushing me away. You know I’ll be good to you and India.”
“Listen, Hudson...”
“No, you listen, Stefanie. You’re a divorced woman, you’ve got a teenage daughter, yet you’re retiring from your career while it’s at its peak with no plans for what you’ll do after you leave here. Either you’ve lost your mind, or someone is steering you down the wrong path. Seeing these flowers,” he said, flicking one of the petals. “I think it’s the latter.”
My mouth dropped open as he continued.
“You need someone like me. Someone who can support you because you sure as hell won’t be able to last long after you leave here. You have a daughter in college, for crying out loud. Now isn’t the time to leave your job, to leave me. And now you’re getting flowers from some stranger. Is this a midlife crisis or something?”
My anger wasn’t boiling hot. It was ice cold. A chill crept over me as I stepped closer to him, closing the gap between us.
“I don’t know what the fuck I’ve done to make you think you can talk to me like that,” I whispered. “But this shit won’t happen again, Hudson. I am not yours. Never have been, never will be. It doesn’t matter how close you get to my daughter or how much you speak up for me around here. You and I are colleagues, and that’s it. So the next time you feel the need to say some shit like this to me, don’t. Or I will report you for harassment. Stay away from me. This is my second time asking you to do that. I won’t ask again.”
With that said, I turned and walked off. I didn’t look back to see if he was watching me. I knew he was. I could feel his eyes on me. I know India thought he was a great guy and that he treated me well.
But she was too young to understand that you had to look past the smiles, gifts, and flirtation. You had to look deeper, not into their heart. That was some bullshit I believed when I was married.
My marriage taught me that you had to look not at their heart, but at their darkest desires. If I had done that while I was married, it would’ve saved me a lot of heartache. Instead, I’d believed in the flattery, in the kind smiles, the gifts, the sweet embraces.
That was all just a front that hid his darker instincts. The same could be said for Hudson. On the surface, he was a great guy. But once you peeled back a few layers, you quickly realized that he didn’t respect women at all.
I stared at the flowers I was carrying. I wondered what I’d find when I peeled back a few layers of Julian Cattaneo’s charming façade. Would I find dark desires that would make me wish I’d never met him? Or would I find....
I paused, halting that thought, refusing to let it play out further. I couldn’t go down that path. What I found wouldn’t matter. Julian was too young. I already had enough going on. I couldn’t add dating a young man to my plate.
Look how Hudson just blew up on me for wanting to leave the station while having a daughter in college with no solid plan about what I wanted to do next. If he learned that I was interested in a guy much too young for me, he would truly think I was going through a midlife crisis, mind you, thirty-nine was not midlife.Idiot!
Neither was forty, which I would be soon. I placed the flowers on the table in the breakroom and stared down at them. Peonies. How did he know? He couldn’t have known. Yet, he’d still got it right. I reread the card. If I smiled any harder, my jaws would ache.
“I won’t let you sway me, Julian Cattaneo,” I whispered to the flowers. “But I do wish I could tell you thank you. I’ll consider these a sign that I’m making the right decision to let go of this job and my past and to embrace a new dream, a new goal, a new path. Thank you, Julian.”
I leaned down and smelled the flowers. Memories of my time with him flashed through my mind. But it wasn’t the filthy sex that I thought of. It was him asking me about the things I liked, the things that made me happy.
I’d talked. He’d listened. He’d asked questions, seemingly genuinely interested in me. But I couldn’t be swayed just by that. That was the most basic thing a man should do. Just because I rarely had men do it for me didn’t mean it was some grand gesture.
I glanced down at my watch. It was almost time for me to get my makeup touched up and start my segment with Courtney. With one last glance at those flowers, I turned and left the breakroom.
