The rest of the week flew by. Olivia and I worked day and night to get all of the marketing materials finalized, while Hudson focused on the orders-and-financing side of things. By Saturday morning, only a few of the rushed shipments had come in, so it was pretty daunting that the segment I’d taped was going to air at three o’clock this afternoon, and then orders could start pouring in. At least I hoped they poured in. Everything was in motion, but I wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the warehouse was full of all the products necessary to start shipping.
To add to that stress, I was a nervous wreck about seeing myself on TV. The last couple of days, I’d started freaking out that Signature Scent might bomb. I knew the show flashed the quantity remaining like a ticker at the bottom of the television screen, and I’d had a recurring nightmare that throughout the segment I only sold three boxes and there were 49,997 left after my hour was up.
I’d really wanted to stay home and watch the segment today by myself while I alternated between chewing my nails and hiding my face under a cover. But Olivia had organized a viewing party at her apartment. She’d been so kind and supportive, it was impossible to say no. So now here I was, Ubering downtown with two-dozen homemade cupcakes on my lap to watch the show with a dozen people from the office.
I’d obviously known the Rothschild family wasn’t poor, since their business was loaning money to other businesses, but when we pulled up to the address Olivia had given me on Murray Street, my breath caught. Wow. She lived in one of the new, fancy skyscrapers in Tribeca—a modern tower of curved glass that widened as it went up. The design was super sleek, the type of building featured in Architectural Digest or some other glossy magazine. Even the entrance was intimidating. It jutted out onto the street in an imposing way, as if to show people who had to move for whom. Stepping out of the Uber and looking up, I suddenly wished I hadn’t baked the cupcakes I’d brought and had instead picked up something more professional-looking from one of the dozen overpriced cupcakeries that had popped up all over the City the last few years. I also really wished Fisher hadn’t had to go out of town this weekend on business. I could use him by my side today.
I sighed and tried my best not to feel inferior just because I couldn’t even afford the enormous plantings outside the front door. Olivia’s apartment was on the fifty-third floor, but I had to check in at a desk in the lobby. The security guard gave me a keycard to slide into the elevator panel, rather than pushing a button. As soon as I inserted it, the doors slid closed and the fifty-three button illuminated. I took a deep breath as the fast-moving car climbed its way up, but with each floor that passed, my nerves became more and more frayed. When the doors opened, I’d expected to have a few minutes to collect myself in the hallway, but instead I stepped directly into Olivia’s apartment.
She greeted me with her usual bubbly enthusiasm and swamped me in a hug. “Eeep! I’m so excited! I can’t wait! You’re the first one here.”
“That makes one of us. I think I might throw up.”
Olivia giggled as if I were joking, but my stomach did feel pretty queasy at the moment. She ushered me from the entryway into the kitchen. However fancy I’d thought her apartment would be based on the building from the outside, I’d underestimated. The kitchen was beautiful, complete with high-end appliances, sparkling granite, and two big islands. But the living room was the showstopper.
“Wow. Your view is just…” I shook my head. “It’s incredible.”
Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the adjoining living room, showcasing sprawling views of the water and city.
Olivia waved it off. “View-shmew—these cupcakes look delicious. Do you mind if I have a bite of one now?”
I laughed. “Of course not. And I think you can have more than a bite. They’re actually sugar-free. I found the recipe on a diabetes website. I ate one for breakfast this morning while I was baking them, and they’re pretty damn good, if I say so myself.”
“You’re an angel!” She popped the lid off one of the plastic containers and chose a vanilla one with chocolate frosting. Peeling the paper off the bottom, she motioned to the giant windows I couldn’t take my eyes off of. “I used to think that was everything I wanted. And then Hudson bought his brownstone in Brooklyn last year. He has no view, but he has a little backyard, and the building has so much character. It feels like he lives in a real home. This place…” She shook her head and licked a line of icing off the top of the cupcake. “I don’t know… It just sort of feels like I’m staying at a luxury hotel or something. Charlie only stays with her dad a few days a week, and she already has friends who live on their block. I’ve lived here for two years, and I don’t know a single person in the building. I sort of feel like I live in an ivory tower up here.” She laughed. “Don’t tell Hudson I said that. I wouldn’t want to mess with our delicate dynamic. He thinks it’s his job to teach me about life, and I pretend I don’t need him to.”
I smiled. “Your secret is safe with me.”
A bell sounded overhead, and Olivia walked to an intercom system on the wall and pressed a button. “I have a delivery from Cipriani,” the voice said.
“Great. Send them up, please, Dave.”
Just as she released the buzzer, a man I recognized—though I hadn’t actually met him—walked out from a hallway on the other side of the living room. Ugh. I’d been so busy worrying about seeing myself on TV and how Signature Scent would do that I hadn’t stopped to consider that Olivia’s husband would be home on a Saturday afternoon. Of course I’d apologized to Olivia multiple times. For the most part, I didn’t feel embarrassed when I spoke to her anymore. We’d somehow been able to put what I’d done behind us. But I’d never spoken to her husband, and I prayed it wouldn’t be too awkward. Though the grin on his face as he strode toward the kitchen had me freaking out a little.
Olivia waved between us. “Mason, this is the guest of honor, Stella. Stella, this is my husband, Mason. Mase, the food is here. Why don’t you make Stella a drink while I deal with the delivery?”
My face heated with renewed shame as he extended his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Hi.” I cringed and shook my head. “I’m really sorry about your wedding. I apologized to your wife, but I should have sent you a note, too.”
Mason shook his head. “Totally not necessary. The whole thing was pretty funny, especially the story you told. Plus, Liv never stops talking about you, so everything worked out for the best. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited about something to do with work. She’s really invested in what you’ve created.”
I let out a relieved breath and smiled. “She is. I’m very lucky. To be honest, I was really unsure about going into business with an investor. But she’s given me so much more than financial backing. I feel like I have a partner who cares as much as I do.”
Mason nodded. “She does.” He looked over my shoulder at her before lowering his voice. “She went through a funk after her dad died last year. The only thing that seemed to get her out of it was planning our wedding. So I was a little concerned about what would happen when it was over. But then you happened, and I feel like I’ve gotten my old Liv back lately. So while you might think you owe me an apology, it’s really me who owes you a big thanks.”
Wow. I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say—actually, I do. You two were made for each other. You’re both amazing.”
He smiled and again glanced over my shoulder. “I see her searching in her bag for money for a tip. She never carries a dollar, so I don’t know why she’s looking. In about ten seconds, she’s going to call my name so she can rummage through my wallet. So what can I get you to drink? A mixed drink, beer, wine?”
“I’d love a glass of wine. Merlot, if you have it.”
“You got it.”
Olivia yelled from the kitchen. “Mason?”
He grinned and pulled out his wallet. “I’ll be back with your wine after I tip the delivery man. Make yourself at home.”
I could have stood at the windows and looked at the view of the City all day, but the mantel over the fireplace caught my eye. There were half a dozen framed pictures on it, so I walked over to be nosy and take a look.
The large silver frame in the center featured a photo from their wedding day. Olivia was bent over laughing as she stood next to a multi-tiered wedding cake, a piece of which she’d obviously just smashed in her husband’s face. Mason’s tongue was out as he tried to lick the cake from his face through a smile. I loved that they’d chosen that photo to frame, rather than some perfectly posed one. It really showed their happiness, and their smile grew contagious as I looked at it.
To one side of the wedding photo was a picture of an older couple. They were standing in the rain wearing yellow rain slickers, but the smiles on their faces radiated sunshine. They had to be Olivia and Hudson’s parents, because the man was basically an older version of Hudson. Next to that photo was a shot of Olivia and Mason at the beach—sporting backward baseball caps and drinking beer. Again, the smiles on their faces were positively contagious.
I skimmed over a few more photos of the happy couple with various friends, and then my eyes landed on the last framed photo at the end. That one I picked up to take a closer look at the two kids—a young Olivia and Hudson. The little boy was probably about nine or ten, but his gorgeous, bright blue eyes were unmistakably Hudson’s. He also wore a smirk I’d become all too familiar with. He leaned forward, hovering over a birthday cake, about to blow out the candles. Olivia sat to his left, and his arm was extended, one of his hands covering her mouth.
A deep voice over my shoulder startled me. “Some shit never changes.”
Hudson. “Jesus. You scared me. Didn’t you learn your lesson about sneaking up on people? I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Rode up with the food. By the way, be thankful she ordered and didn’t try to cook today.”
“I’m sure she’s not a bad cook.”
“Last Christmas she made two trays of shrimp parmesan. We all got a big crunch when we bit in.”
“She overcooked the shrimp?”
He shook his head. “She followed a recipe that called for shelled shrimp. She thought shelled meant to leave the shell on.”
I laughed. “Ohhhhhh…”
He nodded his chin toward the photo in my hand. “I still feel like doing that at least once a week.”
“Why were you covering her mouth?”
“Because she thought everyone’s birthday cakes were for her and blew out the candles. My parents thought it was cute and let her do it. But that year, I’d made a wish I really wanted to come true, and I wasn’t taking any chances.”
I laughed. “What was your wish?”
“I wanted a sheepdog.”
“Did you get one?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Well, it’s an adorable picture.”
“My mom had it framed on her nightstand. She said it summed up our relationship perfectly, and she wasn’t wrong. My sister must’ve taken it when we cleaned out my parents’ things.”
Mason walked over and handed me a glass of wine. He passed Hudson a beer. Raising his own bottle, he tilted it to us. “Good luck today, you two.”
Hudson clinked his beer, so I followed his lead. “Thank you.”
The rest of the guests piled in shortly thereafter, and Hudson and I were pulled in opposite directions. I saw a couple of people on the marketing team who I knew had worked on things for us, but I hadn’t gotten to spend much time with them. So I made sure to seek them out and say thank you for everything they’d done.
A few times, while Hudson and I were both talking to different people, my eyes caught with his. His lip would twitch and his eyes sparkled, but neither of us made any attempt to talk again. A few minutes before three o’clock, Olivia pointed the remote at the TV above the fireplace and then used it to clink against her glass.
“Alright, everyone. It’s just about time! This is so much more exciting than a dumb Superbowl party, isn’t it? Who needs a refill before kickoff?”
I was really damn nervous, so I headed to the kitchen to take her up on the offer before I had to see my face on her giant TV. Mason was standing near the wine and lifted the merlot when he saw me coming.
“You look like I felt when they started playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’.”
I opened and closed my hands. “Did your fingertips go numb from nerves?”
Mason filled my glass to the brim and handed it back to me with a smile. “Head-to-toe numb. Pretty sure that’s why the person who gives away the bride lifts the veil, and the best man holds the ring. The groom’s hands are too shaky to do anything.”
I sipped my wine. “Well, I hope I can fake it as good as you did. Because you looked cool as a cucumber.”
An arm hooked through mine. “Come on,” Olivia said. “I want to sit next to you!”
I guzzled as much wine as I could as we settled into the couch together. Immediately after we sat, the music at the beginning of the show started, and the host, Robyn, strolled out, waving to a live studio audience. It was pretty funny to watch, because I had been there when she’d done that walk, and the only people in the audience were Hudson and his friend Jack. Yet now the camera panned to a clapping crowd.
Olivia laced her fingers with mine and squeezed. “Here we go!”
She turned up the volume, and the noise in the room settled down. Robyn did her usual introduction from the side of the stage, and then walked over to the counter where she always stood. Signature Scent boxes and samples were piled all over. It felt completely surreal. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, leaving me a little lightheaded.
For the next few minutes, Robyn did her best Vanna White impression, lifting the boxes and waving her manicured hands around, which I now knew was to keep the viewers’ eyes on the product rather than the host. When she began to introduce her guest co-host for the day, I held my breath.
It was absolutely crazy to see myself on television, standing next to such a well-known personality. Robyn Quinn was a pretty big celebrity. During the taping, the director had made me do that walk out onto the stage while waving almost a dozen times. As I watched, I smiled directly into the camera and waved like my personal fan club was in the audience.
Oh my God, I look like such a ham!
Everyone from the office started to hoot and howl, and I dropped my face into my hands, too embarrassed to watch. I’d heard actors say they don’t watch their movies and thought that was insane. But now I understood why. I was aware of all the little nervous habits I had, as well as how heavy my New York accent was, and it left me unable to focus on anything but my flaws—all of which seemed highly amplified at the moment.
I cringed and shook my head. “God, this is so hard to watch.”
“Are you kidding me?” Olivia asked. “You’re a natural and doing incredible!”
The moment of truth came ten minutes into the show. Robyn pointed to the corner of the screen, and the price and telephone number flashed a few times. Thirty seconds later, a countdown clock appeared, too.
“Alright, ladies—and gentlemen out there who want to impress their ladies—we’re going to open up the lines now and let you start getting your orders in. We’ll continue to talk about Signature Scent, but I think you all already know you want it. So here’s what you’ve been waiting for, your countdown to the opening of our phones and online ordering. You know the drill… And five, four, three, two, one. We’re open!”
Within seconds, the countdown of the quantity remaining started to scroll. Slowly at first, but then it began to fly. I couldn’t tell you what Robyn or I talked about for the duration of the show—my eyes were glued to that countdown clock. When the thousands started to dwindle at a rapid pace, I thought I might hyperventilate, and I really needed a moment.
“Would you mind if I went downstairs to get some air? I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Olivia looked concerned “Of course not, but are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just a bit overwhelming, and I need a minute. I won’t be gone for long.”
“Of course. Of course. But don’t go downstairs.” She pointed to the hallway her husband had come from earlier. “Last door on the left leads to a guest bedroom. It has a private balcony and a bathroom, too.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. Go. Take as long as you need.”
“Thank you.”
The cool air outside felt incredible. I shut my eyes and took a few deep breaths. After only a minute or two, I felt calm enough to open them and enjoy the stunning view. From this height, the City seemed unusually quiet, which had a real tranquilizing effect on my mental state. So I felt a little better when I heard the sound of the door sliding open behind me, and I turned to find Hudson.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I just got a little overwhelmed watching that ticker, and my heart started to race.”
“Understandable.” He smiled and held something out to me. “Here.”
I looked down and my forehead wrinkled. “A banana?”
“I stole it from my sister’s kitchen. She didn’t have any oranges. I’m more creative with those.”
I was confused until I realized he’d written on it.
Your television debut is very appealing.
Hudson shrugged. “Get it? A-peel-ing. Go easy on me—I didn’t have very long to come up with something and still follow you out here.”
I laughed. “It’s very sweet. Thank you. I can see why Charlie likes your messages in her lunchbox so much.”
We stood next to each other, staring out at the City. The little fruit trick he used on his daughter had actually helped me relax. Or maybe it was just Hudson’s presence.
I sighed. “This is all so surreal.”
“I would imagine it is.” He smiled.
Yes, I was in the middle of a mental meltdown, but I still noticed how handsome Hudson looked. Not only was he dressed casually in a pair of jeans, he also had some stubble on his face that I really liked.
He’d been quietly watching me look at him, so I felt compelled to say something.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you unshaven and in street clothes.”
He flashed one of his sexy signature half smiles. “And?”
I tilted my head. “I like it.”
“Are you telling the truth or just trying to get in your daily compliment quota from your happiness plan?”
I laughed. “No, I like it. The scruff on your jaw gives you a sinister look.”
He tilted his head. “Is that your type? Sinister looking? That’s not exactly what I envisioned when you said your ex was a poet.”
I laughed. “Oh, Aiden is as clean-cut as they come. That’s always been my type. I never went for the bad boys. I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone with a scar or a tattoo.”
“And you’d like to change that?”
I shrugged, playing along and teasing. “Maybe.”
Hudson’s eyes sparkled. “That’s good. Because I can help. I have both.”
“You do?”
He nodded.
“Where are they?”
“Ah…that’s information I’ll keep for another time.”
I laughed. “Top secret, huh?”
A light gust of wind pushed a lock of hair onto my face. Hudson used his finger to move it. “Feel better?”
I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders. “I do. Thank you.”
He tilted his head toward the door. “Why don’t we go back in, then? As much as I’d rather be right here, I don’t want you to miss anything.”
I nodded.
Back in the living room, I took my seat next to Olivia on the couch and looked up at the countdown clock to see how things were going. I blinked a few times reading the number. I hadn’t been gone for more than five minutes, yet we were already almost completely sold out.
“I’ve been watching this show every day for the last week and a half,” Olivia said. “And they never sell out this fast. You’re absolutely slaying it. I was worried you’d miss the part where Robyn says her big tagline—Going…going and buh-bye!”
Sure enough, only minutes later, the side of the screen with the countdown started to flash.
“Uh-oh,” the host said. “We’re about to sell out. Hurry up and get those orders in!” She paused and shook her head. “I better say it before it’s too late. Going…going…” She raised her hand and waved. “…and buh-bye!” A big stamp appeared over the countdown clock on the screen.
SOLD OUT
Everyone in the room cheered. Olivia hugged me, and people took turns coming over to congratulate us. When I turned back to look at the TV, the next product was already being introduced. Relief washed over me that we’d done well, and I wouldn’t have to see my face up on that giant TV anymore.
Olivia and Mason popped champagne, and she handed out glasses. As she extended one to me, my eyes met Hudson’s across the room. He silently raised his glass and smiled.
Olivia looked between the two of us before hooking her arm around my neck. She turned us so our backs were facing Hudson and spoke with a low voice. “He really likes you.”
“Who?”
She rolled her eyes. “Uh, the man who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since he walked in. Hudson, of course. I see the way he looks at you.”
“He’s excited about today…about Signature Scent.”
She pointed her finger at me. “He’s excited about you.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Hudson, and our eyes met once again. I couldn’t deny that I’d felt like the center of his focus today. He looked between his sister and me, and his eyes narrowed. He absolutely knew we were talking about him.
I sighed. “He’s a great guy.”
“So…” Olivia shrugged. “Why are you two still playing cat and mouse, then?”
“We’re in business together. He’s an investor in my company.”
“And…”
“I don’t know.” I shook my head. “If it doesn’t work out, it could be pretty messy.”
Olivia sipped her champagne. “Life is messy. You know the only time it’s not? When you’re not living it—when you’re just going through the motions.”
“I know… But—”
She interrupted me. “What happened to the woman who crashed my wedding and ran out laughing and drinking champagne?”
I laughed. “God, that’s a good example of being a mess.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “But look where that mess led you. To a new business and a new best friend—and if you ask me who the new best friend is, I’m going to punch you. We’re having a moment here.”
I chuckled. “I get what you’re saying, but I told you what happened with Aiden. A lot of our fights centered on being in business together. He would question how I spent money, and we would argue over the direction things should go. It was really the beginning of our problems.”
Olivia shook her head. “I think you’re wrong. Not to be crass, but the beginning of your problems was him sticking his dick in another woman.”
“Not that it’s a valid excuse, but he turned to someone else because we weren’t getting along.”
“No, he didn’t. He turned to someone else because he’s a piece of shit. That was just the most convenient excuse.”
I sighed. “I guess…”
“Did I tell you that Mason and I met at work?”
“Really? At Rothschild Investments?”
She nodded. “Hudson brought him on as director of IT. He was there for three years, and we were dating for two of them. We worked together on a few projects, and we didn’t always see eye to eye.”
“He owns his own IT firm, right? Is that why he left?”
“No. There was nowhere for him to grow at Rothschild. We only have a few IT people, and he wanted to keep growing. But my point is, we worked together and fought. That didn’t lead him to cheat on me.” Olivia looked over at her husband and smirked. “Occasionally it led to some hot, angry make-up sex on my desk, though…” She held up her hands and her face scrunched. “Oh God. Don’t do that with my brother because my office is so close. I once walked in on our parents, and I still haven’t gotten over it.”
I laughed.
“Seriously, Stella. If you’re not into Hudson, that’s fine. But don’t let what happened with your ex, or your fears of things getting messy, ruin what could be a good thing. Some of the best things in life are messy—buns, sheets after good sex, lava cake, watermelon. Do I need to go on?”
I smiled. “No. I get it.”
Hudson walked over with a bottle of champagne and topped off both our glasses. Noticing the label, I said, “No wonder this is so delicious. It’s the good stuff. I’ve run out of the bottles I stole from Olivia’s wedding, so you might want to hide any you have left when I’m on my way out.”
Olivia laughed. “I’m going to go help Mason put out more food. You two continue the celebration without me.” She walked away but looked back over her shoulder so Hudson didn’t see and winked.
I smiled. “Your sister is pretty amazing.”
“She’s not too bad,” Hudson agreed. “But don’t tell her I said that.”
He’d walked over to fill our glasses, but didn’t have one of his own. “Where’s your champagne?”
“I have plans.” Hudson looked at his watch. “I actually need to be going. I was coming over to say goodbye.”
“Oh.” Disappointment gripped me, along with maybe a tiny bit of jealousy. I forced a smile. “Well, have fun.”
Hudson’s eyes narrowed before he eventually grinned.
“Are you jealous because I have a date?”
“No,” I said—waaay too quickly.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and flaunted a smug smile. “You are.”
“Am not.”
He leaned forward, his nose almost touching mine, and whispered, “Jealous.”
“You’re so full of yourself. You can’t even tell the difference between happy for you and jealous.”
He pulled his head back. “Oh yeah? You’re happy I have a date?”
I plastered on a smile and pointed to my mouth. “Yes. See?”
The look on Hudson’s face told me my attempt at a smile came out more like one reflected in a fun house.
He chuckled. “I’m picking up Charlie from some playdate. My ex went to a doctor’s appointment with her sister who’s pregnant and might not make it on time, so I told her I’d take her home.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Happy it’s not a real date?”
Yes. I shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your business.”
He rubbed his chin. “I was thinking of coming back after. Think you’ll still be here?”
“Maybe I have a date tonight. Would that bother you?”
Hudson’s jaw flexed. “I’m not the one who pretends I’m not interested, so I don’t think you’ll be surprised to know it would.”
I’d been teasing, and it backfired. His face was too serious to screw around. I sighed. “I don’t have a date. I’ll probably be here.”
Hudson shook his head. “You’re a pain in my ass.”
I sipped my champagne. “Well, apparently you like pains in the asses.”
His eyes dropped to my lips. “You know I’m counting all the times you torture me. Eventually I’ll get even.”
“And how will you do that?”
He leaned in and kissed my cheek, then moved his lips to my ear. “With my mouth.”
I blinked a few times, taking in Hudson’s smirk as he walked away.
He spoke over his shoulder. “Hold that thought, Stella. Your whisper is getting almost loud enough that I can hear it.”
Oh boy. I’m in trouble.
