Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I head down Hudson’s way after making a pit stop in the break room for two coffees in two matching Snoopy mugs. I expect the same frenzy as last night, but it’s suspiciously quiet near his office. There’s an older man hunched over at Lucy’s desk, but he doesn’t even glance up when I walk by him—his focus remains down on the document he’s redlining.
At Hudson’s office door, I peer in to find he’s alone inside, working at his computer. I give myself the briefest moment to take him in: his ruggedly handsome features highlighted by the warm glow of his computer screen, those perpetually furrowed brows. I wonder if he’s realized how dark his office has become since the sun went down. Probably not.
“Where is everyone?”
He peers up. If he’s surprised to see me, he gives nothing away with his expression.
“I gave them thirty minutes for dinner.” He checks his watch as he sits back in his chair. “They’ll be back soon.”
I nod as I walk in to give him his coffee. It pleases me to no end to see his large hand wrapped around the handle of the cutesy Snoopy mug. He studies my smile but doesn’t ask about it. Of course not. He doesn’t care.
After I take a sip of my own coffee, I set about adding some light to the room. He’s practically Count Dracula in here. I start with the floor lamp in the corner near his desk. Then I cross the room to turn on another lamp perched on the side table. My spine tingles from Hudson’s gaze. He’s watching me while he drinks his coffee. Maybe the dress is worse than I previously thought… I’m suddenly very aware of every square inch of skin on display. Even the skin beneath the light fabric doesn’t seem protected enough.
I try the final lamp, but when I twist the switch, it doesn’t turn on. When I glance down, I see it’s been unplugged by accident. Of course the damn outlet’s shoved halfway behind the couch. I hike up my dress and bend down to stretch my arm back there—praying there aren’t like 456 dormant spiders waiting for a tasty finger to eat—and once I plug it in, the lamp turns on. Now the room is much more inviting.
I turn to see Hudson is still watching me, curiosity sparking his brown eyes.
“There. Better. Have you had dinner?”
He nods. “Yes, Mommy. Leftover pizza.”
I roll my eyes when what I really want to do is let loose a belly laugh.
“Have you?” he asks, lazily taking in my getup.
I just nod, not wanting to get into it. I don’t want him to ask me where I’ve been. But I shouldn’t worry; Hudson’s in no hurry to ask me probing questions. He doesn’t care about trivial things like my social life.
Out in the sitting area, I hear the man stand up at Lucy’s desk. He walks to the open office door and holds up the document he was working on. “Finished with edits. I gotta head out. My wife’s gonna kill me if I don’t make it home before she puts the kids to bed.”
Hudson waves him off. “Thanks, Jansen. Hand that over to Scarlett before you go. She’ll input the changes.”
Jansen gives me the bound document, and I nod in confirmation.
Well, there’s my task. Time to get to it.
I decide it’s best if I work in my office tonight. There’s no reason to linger near Hudson, especially while we’re the only two people on the floor. It just feels dangerous—not because he’d ever do anything inappropriate. Last I checked he was minding his business, whipping through papers on his desk, a red pen wedged between his teeth. It’s more like I’m the inappropriate one. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep Hudson contained in the tidy box in my head labeled: Boring Male Coworkers I Otherwise Don’t Care About. He’s inching ever so slowly toward a new box titled: Men I Find So Attractive I Can Barely Stand It. So far, that box is filled with Brad Pitt (specifically Legends of the Fall Brad Pitt) and George Clooney (in his current silver fox era).
Putting myself down the hall, in my office, is the smart thing to do.
Except that five minutes later, Hudson calls me back down to his office because his printer isn’t working.
“Did you do something when you turned that lamp on?” he accuses.
“Yes,” I say drolly. “I broke your printer by turning on your lamp.”
His gaze eats me alive.
I gulp and look away. “Maybe it needs more paper?”
“It has paper.”
“What about ink?”
He drags his hands through his thick hair. “Dammit. Where’s IT when you need them?”
“I’m pretty handy,” I tell him, kicking off my heels so I can bend down and see what the issue is. Really, I’m not that handy, but if there’s an opportunity to fix something and impress Hudson in the process, I’m going to take it.