Page 28 of Mr. Big Shot

The first time went something like this: “I just don’t know how I could have managed to raise Jasper right and go off to a job all day long.” Worse than that one was a snide remark she made right in the middle of a group conversation, so seamlessly it felt like I was the only one to hear her say it. “Oh, Scarlett doesn’t think being a mom is work enough.”

When I brought it to Jasper’s attention later that night, he laughed it off. “So she’s prickly about her life choices compared to yours—big deal. Don’t let it bother you.”

Now, she just can’t help herself. “Aren’t there always going to be fires to put out at a law firm of that size?” she asks her husband with a condescending tone.

I look to Jasper, hoping he heard the comment and witnessed the way she delivered it, but he’s too busy waving down the hired waiter to ask for a refill on his wine. Never mind that the wine is sitting on a side table right there within reach. He could just get up and get it himself, but instead he’s playing into this silly game of Downton Abbey.

All at once, it’s too much.

I jerk my chair back and dart up. “I…have to leave.” I look at Annette and Charlie. “I’m sorry. I know you both went to so much trouble to put together this dinner”—i.e. you paid people a lot of money to cook in your kitchen while you observed and critiqued them from afar—“and I feel bad rushing off, but this is really important.”

Charlie—nice, aloof man that he is—nods. “Of course, Scarlett. Don’t worry about it.”

Annette doesn’t look up, and she doesn’t address me. I know I’ll be paying for this quick exit for weeks, if not months, to come.

Jasper stands and follows me out of the dining room like a heavy black cloud. I know he’s upset with me.

“Two late nights in a row, Scarlett?”

I ignore him and pull up the Uber app.

“My parents really wanted to spend time with us,” he continues.

“I’m sorry, Jasper.”

He sighs and grabs his keys from his pocket. “Let me drive you.”

“I already called an Uber. Stay with your parents. I know they want to see you. It’s so hard finding time to get together.”

“Are you sure?”

Positive.

I lie and tell him the Uber’s already there just so I can go outside. It’s colder than I expected, but I don’t mind the October chill. The fresh air feels like it’s cleansing me of the last hour and a half. I stand on the curb, looking down the road for a black Nissan SUV.

Voices carry from the catering team standing in Annette and Charlie’s driveway. They’re just shooting the shit while they smoke and take a break. One of them catches my eye and nods, and I nod back. Given the choice between going back into the sprawling two-story red brick mansion to continue dinner with Annette or bumming a smoke from those guys, I’d pick the latter. And I don’t even smoke.

It’s a twenty-minute ride from Jasper’s parents’ house to the Elwood Hoyt offices. The Uber driver talks on the phone the whole time, and I don’t mind one bit. Twenty minutes of sitting in the back seat, not saying a word? It’s like a mini spa trip. And he offers me free water and a cord to charge my iPhone! Thank you, Mr. Uber Man. You will be getting a good tip from me.

I’m buzzing when I hurry through the ground-floor foyer, flashing my ID at security since I don’t have my badge on me. I assess my clothes when I’m in the elevator. I didn’t go home to change, and I’m slightly regretting it. The long white slim-fitting dress I wore to dinner is nice, though not exactly work attire. The halter neck has wide straps that twist around and tie beneath my hair, paired with a sculpted bodice. There’s no cleavage, thank god, but it’s still more skin than I’d prefer to show in the office. Good thing HR’s not making the rounds at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday night…

I head down Hudson’s way after making a pit stop in the break room for two coffees in two matching Snoopy mugs. I expect the same frenzy as last night, but it’s suspiciously quiet near his office. There’s an older man hunched over at Lucy’s desk, but he doesn’t even glance up when I walk by him—his focus remains down on the document he’s redlining.

At Hudson’s office door, I peer in to find he’s alone inside, working at his computer. I give myself the briefest moment to take him in: his ruggedly handsome features highlighted by the warm glow of his computer screen, those perpetually furrowed brows. I wonder if he’s realized how dark his office has become since the sun went down. Probably not.

“Where is everyone?”

He peers up. If he’s surprised to see me, he gives nothing away with his expression.

“I gave them thirty minutes for dinner.” He checks his watch as he sits back in his chair. “They’ll be back soon.”

I nod as I walk in to give him his coffee. It pleases me to no end to see his large hand wrapped around the handle of the cutesy Snoopy mug. He studies my smile but doesn’t ask about it. Of course not. He doesn’t care.

After I take a sip of my own coffee, I set about adding some light to the room. He’s practically Count Dracula in here. I start with the floor lamp in the corner near his desk. Then I cross the room to turn on another lamp perched on the side table. My spine tingles from Hudson’s gaze. He’s watching me while he drinks his coffee. Maybe the dress is worse than I previously thought… I’m suddenly very aware of every square inch of skin on display. Even the skin beneath the light fabric doesn’t seem protected enough.

I try the final lamp, but when I twist the switch, it doesn’t turn on. When I glance down, I see it’s been unplugged by accident. Of course the damn outlet’s shoved halfway behind the couch. I hike up my dress and bend down to stretch my arm back there—praying there aren’t like 456 dormant spiders waiting for a tasty finger to eat—and once I plug it in, the lamp turns on. Now the room is much more inviting.

I turn to see Hudson is still watching me, curiosity sparking his brown eyes.

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