Page 102 of Mr. Big Shot

In a thousand ways.

I’m the first to admit that falling for Hudson wasn’t easy, but I’m a girl up for any challenge. Now I’m grateful for the warning label he’s carried for so long. He’s too perfect. If people had access to his sweet side, someone would have snatched him up a long time ago. If the world knew Hudson is a big teddy bear beneath the scruffy jaw and angry eyebrows? All hell would break loose.

This is perfect, the universe ensuring balance.

We’re drifting off to sleep later when I think of something and smile.

“Hudson?”

He hums to let me know he’s listening.

“Your mom’s going to be so happy.”

Epilogue to the Epilogue

Scarlett

Just as Kendra predicted, Makayla and Ramona leave Elwood Hoyt at the end of spring, and the entire office breathes a sigh of relief. The first day without them, I treat myself to a little celebratory cookie during lunch. Without Kendra and her minions, the tight-knit group of first-years disbands fairly quickly.

Two weeks ago, I got a small package in the mail at work. I tore into it and shook the contents out onto my desk to reveal an oversized puka shell statement necklace decorated with gemstones (yikes) alongside a postcard that at first looked to be handwritten, but upon closer inspection came hot off the Vistaprint press.

Heyyyy! I’m loving Bali. Sent you a little something. When you get a chance, snap a photo of you wearing this necklace and post it to your socials alongside the hashtag—

Oh good lord. I threw the postcard away before I could finish reading it, but I saved the necklace for Annabelle. She’ll love it.

Today is July 28th, a relatively unimportant Friday. It’s going the way most summer Fridays have gone. Rather than staying in the office until 7:00 or 8:00 p.m., Hudson and I clock out at 6:00, our new normal.

He swings by my office to collect me, stopping in the doorway, watching me as I put the finishing touches on my last email of the day.

“It’s 5:59,” he taunts.

“I’m almost done! Don’t distract me.”

He doesn’t say another word, but it doesn’t matter. He’s a walking distraction. I look over the top of my computer to see him fighting back a smile.

“One more second.”

“I could go get the car…”

“No!”

I like when we leave together. Occasionally, when we’re in the elevator alone, we can behave badly. We’ve had some full-on make-out sessions on our way to the ground floor. If there are cameras…I shudder to think of what the security guards have seen.

“There!”

I hit send and close my laptop with a triumphant slap. My work bag and phone, my jacket and notebook—everything gets snatched up as quickly as possible as I make my way to the door. I stop just a hair’s breadth too close to Hudson, tip my head back, and meet his gaze. If we were at home, I’d kiss him. As it is, in the office, we have to abide by our rules (namely: no PDA). His attention slips down to my lips, and I can tell from the wicked gleam in his eyes that he’s contemplating breaking our rules.

I press my hand to his chest, rise up onto my toes, and very nearly kiss him before I smile like a minx and push him out the door.

“Come on, come on. We’re going to be late.”

We’re going to my parents’ house for dinner, but this is no casual meal. This is not our standard Friday night.

Hudson is getting his promotion. Tonight, he will officially become a senior partner at Elwood Hoyt.

I only know because my dad let it slip the other day. “The board is finalizing the contract, don’t get your hopes up” was the excuse he gave me at the time, but I got my hopes up immediately.

It’s been incredibly difficult to keep the secret. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, hounding my father, even pestering my mom for details. Her response: “Scarlett, how would I know if Hudson is getting a promotion? Your dad doesn’t tell me any of that stuff. Now stop calling me at work.”

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