I put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, David.”
“You deserve it.”
We spent the hours until the club opened working on a business plan. It was distracting and exhilarating and exactly what my obsessive mind needed. Work would automatically make it to my list of substitute behaviors. I now had a salaried position and many of my shifts would take place during daylight hours. Wouldn’t Brian be proud?
When the club opened, I shadowed David, learning more managerial duties. By the time we closed, I was exhausted and grateful that I didn’t have to walk home.
It wasn’t until Jordan was helping me into the backseat of the car after my shift was over that I remembered to read my text from Hudson. “Always,” it said.
My heart stopped. I reread my text to him to be sure I correctly remembered what I’d sent. I did. I had asked him if he was thinking of me, and his answer was Always.
Chapter Fourteen
Jordan was waiting for me with the Maybach at six outside my apartment, but I saw before he even opened the door for me that the backseat was empty.
“Mr. Pierce is late getting back in town,” Jordan explained. “He’ll meet you at Lincoln Center. I have your ticket.”
Having felt anxious all day about seeing Hudson, not sure what the context of our evening would be, I didn’t want to be alone. “Do you mind if I ride up front with you?” I asked.
“I’m sure Mr. Pierce would rather you sat in the back.”
I pulled the back door from Jordan’s grasp and shut it without getting in. “Then we won’t tell him, will we?”
Jordan shook his head at me and crossed around to the driver’s seat. I opened the front door myself and climbed in next to him.
We rode in silence for a bit, and I read the ticket that Jordan had given me. The New York Philharmonic playing Brahms’s Symphonies Two and Three. Nice. I loved the arts and it had been forever since I had treated myself to an event of any sort.
Luckily, I didn’t have to be at work until one a.m. since I was staying after close to learn how to do monthly inventory. Leisl had come to my apartment that afternoon to help me tie the back of my dress and had taken some of my clothes to work with her so I could change when I got there. It meant Hudson and I had all evening for…for what? Were we on show tonight? Was this a date? Were we going out as friends? I had no idea.
Glancing over at Jordan, I felt inspired to get answers to some of my questions. “Jordan? What has Hudson told you about me?” Jordan had been in the office when we were negotiating the terms of our arrangement. What did he think about us?
Jordan didn’t answer.
“You’re not supposed to chat with me, are you?” His expression gave me my answer. “Oh, come on. He probably also said to keep me happy. And right now some validation is what would make me happy.”
He sighed as if not believing what he was about to do. “He said you’re the lady in his life.”
“He did?” Of course, he would have. That was my role, after all—to play the lady in his life. But had there been others? “How many ladies has he had in his life?”
“I haven’t been hired to drive any others, Ms. Withers. I’ve only always driven him. Occasionally he might have a date, but not very often.”
I frowned, not wanting to think about Hudson on dates.
“Certainly none of them held his interest like you do.”
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to be patronized. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I don’t. But it’s true.”
What did that mean, exactly? That I was special to him? Or that I was the only one he’d hired to show off?
But I couldn’t ask Jordan those questions. So instead I asked, “What do you think about Hudson?”
“Me?” Jordan’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, he’s a good boss. Very clear with his expectations. He demands a lot but the benefits are proportional.”
That was nice to know—that he was a decent employer. But it wasn’t what I was looking for. “I mean as a person.”
Jordan laughed. “I don’t know him as anything but a business man.” He glanced at me. “You may be one of the only people I’ve ever met who knows him as just a man.”
“I doubt that.” Not only because I didn’t know him but because I suspected Hudson didn’t let anyone know him.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
I wanted to continue the conversation, but we’d arrived at Lincoln Center. It felt strange to arrive by myself, but Jordan directed me to Avery Fisher Hall and gave me all the information I needed. “Tonight is a donor’s event. So there’s a light buffet in the lobby. Mr. Pierce insisted you enjoy yourself.”
I smiled as I pictured Hudson giving the orders to Jordan. Had it been by phone? By text? Either way, I recognized that a great deal of care had gone into the evening. “Do you know when he’ll be here?”
Jordan shook his head. “A late meeting of the day delayed his take-off. But he assures he’ll arrive as soon as he can.” He paused before stepping back behind the driver seat. “Ms. Withers? If I may say, you look quite lovely.”
I blushed as I thanked him, but his compliment gave me the courage to make my way into the hall by myself. Finely dressed patrons crowded in with me, the richest in the city, the people who had money to donate to such trivial things as the arts. I’d always been into nice clothes, but had never cared about designer names until that moment when the only thing camouflaging me in the sea of expensive clothes was my own designer gown. I was out of my element. I needed a cocktail.
As Jordan had said, buffet tables lined the lobby and caterers wandered around with trays filled with delicious appetizers and glasses of champagne. I wasn’t very hungry, but I grabbed a crab puff as it passed so I’d have something in my stomach when I drank the champagne that I acquired soon after. I spent the next forty-five minutes nursing my drink and nibbling on veggies, my eyes pinned on the front doors searching for my date.
When the crowd thinned, I reluctantly made my way to the seat listed on my ticket. Box seats, of course. My spirits perked up as I noticed patrons entering the box ahead of me. Perhaps Hudson had managed to sneak past me.
But when the usher showed me to my seat, I found the seats on either side of mine empty. Three other seats in our box were taken by a middle-aged couple and a woman my age—a woman I knew. It was Celia.
“Laynie!” Celia said as she sat down. “I’m so glad you came. Where’s that handsome man of yours?” Her voice wasn’t exactly quiet, and I realized she wanted her companions to hear.