The water in the shower suddenly turns off. And not wanting to be caught with my hand in her bag, I shove the folder back in and rush out of the room. Outside the door, I take a moment to clear my head.
And realize I’m being a moron.
Genevieve is a businesswoman through and through. Of course she’d investigate all the parties she was looking at working with. That’s all. I make a mental note to ask her about it later to be sure and then head downstairs.
I find my family eating breakfast on the patio, and except for Laynie, it looks like Genny and I are definitely the late risers.
“Wow, look who managed to put some clothes on,” my mother says, her tone filled with its usual disdain.
I narrow my eyes at Mina. “Seems someone told on me.” And really? I’m twenty-four. Am I supposed to pretend I’m celibate? God knows Hudson didn’t.
“You have to be careful how you behave around little ones,” Mirabelle chides, but I can tell from the twinkle in her eye that she’s poking at me more than lecturing.
“Hey, I didn’t realize that I needed to lock my door.” I turn to Hudson, who is scowling quietly over his coffee. “She didn’t see anything, H. I swear.”
He glances over at his daughter, as if to be sure she isn’t listening before he says quietly, “Oh, if I believed she had, you’d be missing your nuts by now.”
“Ha ha.” At least now I’m totally soft. No one kills a boner like my brother.
No one kills a breakfast like my brother, either. He’s moody and tense, probably because he’s not sleeping, but I can’t help but feel like it’s directed at me.
Sure enough, I’m only midway through my stack of cakes when he says, “Chandler, we need to talk.”
“Not this again,” my father grumbles, and all of a sudden I remember the strange foreboding I felt the day before when Hudson had wanted to pull me aside.
My eyes dart from Hudson’s to Dad’s and back to Hudson’s. “Is there something I need to be worried about?”
“I’d rather discuss this privately.” Although he obviously already told my father. How private is this really?
Hudson stands, expecting that I’ll follow suit.
“Is Uncle Chandler in trouble?” Mina asks no one in particular, and I have to say, I’m wondering the same thing.
“Of course not, baby.” Hudson’s features relax as he addresses his child. “We just have some grown-up talk to get to.” He bops her on the nose with his finger, his smile warm and full of love.
Then he turns to me and a cold front moves in over his expression. “Let’s go.”
“Yep.” I follow Hudson into the house imagining all the possible things he might want to talk about. He can’t be that upset about the way Mina came upon us this morning, can he? I finally decide he’s just eager to get an update on what happened the other night at the Advances in the Media banquet.
At least, I hope that’s all it is.
Hudson is quiet as we walk. Even when we reach the study, he doesn’t speak until he’s poured himself a scotch and offered one to me as well.
“Day drinking?” I accept the glass, hoping this isn’t an indication that this conversation is going to be serious. Though everything is serious to Hudson, so what my concern is, I don’t know.
“I’d offer a mimosa instead, but you know those have been nixed from the menu since Mother’s been sober.” He swirls the liquid in his tumbler before taking a swallow.
I walk to the window and take a sip myself, letting the liquor burn my throat. As I stare out, Genny joins my family on the patio, and at the sight of her, all my anxiety disappears. I can’t hear them, but her inquisitive expression says she’s asking about me. Mirabelle responds and then they’re laughing and sitting down together. Warmth shoots along my spine, and I don’t think it’s from the scotch. Is it ridiculous that I love how perfectly Genny fits in? It’s like she belongs here. Belongs with my family. Belongs with me.
“Rumor has it,” Hudson says, interrupting my daydreaming, “that you took Genevieve to the awards banquet the other night. Is that true?”
So that’s what this is about.
I turn from the window to find him leaning against the desk. It’s such a stance of authority, like he’s a principal reprimanding a student.
I’m pretty sure that’s how he wants me to feel—like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office.
It makes me want to do what I did every time I found myself there growing up—roll my eyes.
I take a long sip from my glass to rein in my irritation. “It’s really not how it looks. You told me not to bring a plus one, and I didn’t. I ran into her there, and she had a sort of mix-up and didn’t have a ticket, so I said she could take my extra spot. And it was fine because guess who else was seated at our table?”
Hudson shrugs, sets his glass down and folds his arms across his chest, waiting for me to tell him.
“Edward Fasbender and his son Hagan. How the hell did you expect me to feel out Nathan Murphy with them at the same table?”
He’s surprised by this information. “They were? Well, damn. What are the odds?”
“Whatever the odds, it happened. But I did my job and found out—subtly, don’t worry—that Nathan is indeed interested in running Werner Media. You should give him a call for a meeting. I’d like to be there for it, please.”
And now that I’ve given him what he wanted, it’s time to ask for what I want. “While you’re setting up meetings, set one up with Genevieve. I’d like to be at that one too.”