Page 126 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“I do,” I say. “I see what Polly and Ken have. I see what Haisley and Jude have. It would be nice to not be so alone. Don’t you feel lonely?”
“No,” he says just as there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” he calls out.
The door tentatively opens, and Hudson’s new assistant and Jude’s little sister, Sloane, pops her head into the room. “Um, hi, is this an okay time?”
“Yeah,” Hudson says as he sits taller and adjusts the sleeves of his jacket. Sloane, although nervous most of the time when she has to speak to us, was a solid hire. Well-organized, acts like a bodyguard despite her curvier stature, and keeps us both ontrack with our schedule. I wasn’t too sure about hiring Jude’s sister, but she is fresh out of college and given the job market, she really needed something reliable. Hudson said he would take a chance on her, and Jude promised she would not let him down.
So far, he was right.
She nervously moves farther into the conference room. “Hudson, you have a phone call from Huxley Cane. Seemed like he wanted to discuss something important.”
“Sure,” Hudson says, standing and buttoning his suit jacket. “Be right there. Thanks, Sloane.”
She offers him a soft smile, her eyes connecting with his for a moment before she curtsies and leaves.
I stand with Hudson. “Uh, when did she start curtsying?”
Hudson rolls his eyes. “That wasn’t a curtsy.”
“It looked like it,” I say. “Her body dipped and then she left. Don’t tell me you’re making the poor girl curtsy to you. That’s something our father would do.”
“Oh, fuck off—you know I wouldn’t do that.”
“I don’t know, all this power might be going to your head.” I’m so ready to get the hell out of this suit.
“You calling me Dad?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Not even a little.” I grip his shoulder. “By the way, have you heard anything from him?”
“Not yet,” Hudson says. “But this is typical. He’s trying to make us nervous. He’s all about intimidation in real life and in business. He likes to make people sweat. If there even is a lawsuit, he’s going to take his fucking time sending it over.”
“Yeah.” I run my hand over my beard. “You’re probably right about that.”
“I know I am,” he says and moves toward the door. He nods at me. “Good luck at the zoo. Let me know how it goes.”
“I will,” I say. “And pretty sure after the other night, I’m going to need all the luck I can get.”
Hardy:Testing…testing…Professor, are you there?
Everly:Hold on…are you texting me?
Hardy:I am. Is that not the proper protocol when looking to chat?
Everly:We communicate through emails.
Hardy:Would you prefer I send you an email right now instead?
Everly:I don’t know, you’ve caught me off guard.
Hardy:I can send the email. Just say the word.
Everly:No, no, if anything, I’m flexible. Let me just take a deep breath and prepare myself for instant access to the *wonderful* Hardy Hopper.
Hardy:Man, I should text you more often if you’re going to toss out compliments like candy.
Everly:Sorry, autocorrect, “wonderful” was actually supposed to be “incredibly annoying, slightly needy, and pathetically attached to his undercover bridesmaid.”
Hardy:Jesus, that’s quite the autocorrect.
