Page 88 of Mr. Big Shot

I nod. “I guess there’s no rush. I don’t want to burst her bubble. Whenever you think it’s time.”

There’s a natural lull in our conversation, and both of us look away. Then, like we’ve rehearsed it, we look back and our eyes connect again at the exact same moment, and we laugh. We’re shy like we’re eighteen, on the cusp of adulthood, unarmored and soft. The innocence is so foreign to me. I haven’t considered before now all the ways I’ve lost this ability to feel so purely.

“I think we’ve found ourselves in a bit of a pickle.”

Hudson laughs again. “For the record, I didn’t call you into my office to have sex with you.”

“No?” I feign disappointment. “Damn.”

He studies me so intently I worry I’m telegraphing every thought. Does he see it? The truth? I’d like to know it for myself.

“What are you looking for, Scarlett?” he asks.

I wasn’t expecting the candid question.

“Me?”

What do I want? What have I always wanted?

“I’m looking to add my name to that little plaque out in the hall. Scarlett Elwood, partner.”

His eyes spark with interest. “And in your personal life?”

“I have no personal life.”

“Good.” His reply is curt, quick. “Neither do I. You know I’m the least eligible man in this building. Ask anyone. I have no heart, no head for anything outside of law. I’m a real villain, actually. Before you came, Lucy was my only friend, and I’m not sure how that friendship started anyway. I don’t want any distractions. I want my promotion and then I want to keep working. No sailing off into the sunset for me.”

“You’re a villain?”

“Don’t you see it?” He points to the painting. “Look what I did to my mom, lying to her about being in a relationship.”

“You’re a real bastard,” I laugh.

I can’t reconcile how he sees himself with how I see him. I mean, sure, no one would say he’s the most personable man alive, but he’s so warm, down deep.

“Exactly. Ask your brothers. They’ll confirm it.”

I nod, glad I already steeled myself for this conversation. “So is this some big warning to stay away from you? Because I’m no fool. I’m not head over heels in love with you, Hudson. I’m married to my work too. I don’t want any distractions.”

“So we understand each other.”

Do we?

The door to his office opens while we’re still looking at each other and Lucy walks in without knocking. She’s holding a stack of papers for Hudson to sign and she’s talking a mile a minute.

She doesn’t even take note of how we’re standing, too close for coworkers, though at least we aren’t touching. I’m holding the painting, and a quick assessment of Hudson’s desk proves there’s no damning evidence, but it’s not in its usual orderly state either. His computer monitor is about to tip off the edge. Another inch and it’ll be lying on the floor, a crack splintering the screen right down the middle.

There’s no conversation to be had now that we have an audience. I have to get to work and Hudson is already late for a conference call, and that’s the way it goes in big law.

I’m an attorney first and a person second and I don’t feel sorry for myself. I relish it. I love my work and I’m good at it and I’m going to make a name for myself in this company despite everything.

I don’t want Hudson. He was a means to an end for me, someone to help me get my mojo back after Jasper the Lame Ghost. And now I have it.

So there.

We can move on.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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