She lets out a sigh and I believe she’s reassured.
Now, with that out of the way… “But I didn’t invite you here to discuss the club.”
Her body tenses again. “Why did you invite me?”
It’s the moment to drop my bomb. But I can’t help but flirt around the other option that has probably crossed her mind. “Perhaps I like you.”
It’s not until after I’ve said it that I realize the depth of its honesty. I do like her. I’m often intrigued by people—not to the level that I am with Alayna, but there are those who do attract my interest. It’s rare, though, that I like them. And I like Alayna. Quite a lot already.
She shudders, and I adore that I’ve flustered her. She takes a sip of her drink. “Perhaps I’m seeing someone.”
Even more, I adore that she challenges me despite being thrown off-kilter. It helps take my mind off how off-kilter she’s thrown me.
I know she’s single because of my research, but I would have guessed it even without my spies. “You aren’t. No man would let his woman wear the outfit you wore yesterday.” Now she bristles, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have brought up the encounter where I’d chided her. My thoughts wander to the tight-fitting corset—how her br**sts spilled beautifully over the top. I wouldn’t mind seeing it on her again. In private.
So I add, “Not in public, anyway.”
Her eyes spark at the obvious innuendo I’ve made, yet her jaw clenches defiantly. “Perhaps I’m not into controlling boyfriends.”
Touché. “Very well, Alayna.” I c**k a brow. “Are you seeing anyone?”
I’ve got her now. But she doesn’t fold, and that’s to be admired. Instead, she sits up straighter and borrows one of my favorite tactics—diversion. “That isn’t why you invited me, Hudson. You have an agenda.”
“An agenda.” I stifle my laugh. She’s so straightforward with me. It’s alarmingly refreshing. “Yes, Alayna, I have an agenda.”
I’m not prepared to share my agenda just yet. Or, rather, she’s not prepared. I play my next card instead. “I presume you enjoyed your time at my spa last week.”
I wish that I could leave the spa as an anonymous gift, wish that I didn’t have to pull it into this game. But the truth is I’m afraid that she will not accept the even larger gift that is part of this scheme. I have to lay the path, get her comfortable with my wealth. If she can see that she’s already taken advantage of what I can offer, then it won’t be so out of her comfort level to concede to more.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you owned…wait...” The moment she registers what I’ve admitted is clearly shown in her expression. “The gift was from you?”
“Yes. Did you have a nice time?”
“No. Way.” Her mouth drops open in surprise.
“No way?” This isn’t an answer to my question, I know. It stems from her awe. I’m glad now that I had to give this secret away. It makes me want to explore what other ways I can surprise her. Particularly ways that involve no clothing.
“I mean, yes, I had a nice time—a wonderful time, in fact—but no way could you have done that. Why did you do that? You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why ever not?”
Alayna’s eyes are wide and electric. “Because that’s big!”
“Not for me.” I’m not an idiot. I know how it looks. It was an extravagant gift from a stranger. She probably thinks I’m trying to get her in my bed. I am, but the gift was given independently from that.
“But for me it is. It’s huge! And you don’t even know me! It’s completely inappropriate and unprofessional and unprecedented and inappropriate. And if I’d known it was from you, I never would have accepted it.”
Despite her statement, I do not regret my actions. I’m a man with money. I’m not often generous, but I’m rarely refuted when I am. “It’s not inappropriate at all. It was simply a gift. Think of it as a golden hello.” I’m diverting again. Or trying to, at least.
The tactic doesn’t seem to be working. “But you don’t give gifts like that to women who work for you unless you’re running an entirely different kind of club.”
“You’re overreacting, Alayna.” Though she’s actually quite adorable when she’s this worked up.
“I’m not!” Her expression changes from frustrated to quizzical. “And what do you mean a golden hello? You mean, like a signing bonus?”
“Yes, Alayna.” I’ve toyed with her enough. “That’s my agenda. I would like to hire you.”
“I already work for you and I’m happy where I am.” She’s startled and confused.
But I have her attention.
“Again, I don’t feel that you do work for me. I am not your boss. I own the establishment that you work for. That is all. Is that clear?”
I relax when she nods. This is an important delineation for me. As her boss, I’d have the opportunity to work with her closely. However, I want her to choose that for herself. It has nothing to do with the scam Celia is playing—it’s simply how I desire to interact with Alayna. I want our relationship to be unforced. I want it to develop naturally.
I’m a fairly humorless person, but that notion makes even me want to laugh. How can any of it be natural when every bit of it is a ruse?
Well, not every bit of it. Fuck, I don’t even know anymore myself.
It’s then I realize that now that I’m the owner of the club, Celia has nothing to trap me with. I could walk away from this here and now, couldn’t I? I could spend time with Alayna on my own terms—ask her out on a real date, even.
But the idea is too absurd. I never date. And I know Celia—she won’t give up that easily. Also, I’m not a person to make decisions impulsively.
“This wouldn’t affect your employment at the club.” I lean toward her. “Maybe hire is not the correct term. I’d like to pay you to help me with a problem. I believe you’d be perfect for the job.”
“You win. My curiosity is piqued. What’s the job?”
I have her exactly where I want her. I pause to heighten the suspense. “I need you to break up an engagement.” God, how I’ve mastered the art of drama. It’s pathetic; it really is.
She coughs. “Um, what? Whose?”