Page 30 of The Invitation

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“What do you mean my real number? I gave it to you the day I came to pick up my phone.”

His mouth formed a grim line. “The number you gave me was for Vinny’s Pizza.”

“What? No, it wasn’t.”

“It was. I called.”

“You must’ve written it down wrong. I did not give you the wrong number.”

“You typed it into my phone.”

I wracked my brain, trying to remember that afternoon. Hadn’t he written down my number? Then it hit me—he’d asked for my number and immediately after, his assistant had buzzed into the office. While they spoke, he’d reached into his pocket and handed me his cell. Oh my God.

“Can I see your phone?” I asked.

Hudson was quiet a minute. Eventually he reached down to his desk and picked up his cell. I felt him watch me as I typed my name into his contacts and read the number I’d entered. My eyes went wide. The last digit of my number was a nine, yet I’d typed a six—the digit above the nine on the keypad.

I looked up at him. “I typed in the wrong number.”

His face was perfectly impassive. “I’m aware.”

“But I didn’t mean to.”

He said nothing.

My brain seemed to be in slow motion as I processed what this meant. “So…the reason you didn’t call me was because you thought I had intentionally given you the wrong number? But your sister called me. She was able to find my business number.”

“I’m not in the habit of stalking women who give me a wrong number when I ask them out.”

“I would never do that.”

We stared at each other. It was like the missing puzzle pieces had finally clicked into place. “And that’s why you enjoyed leaving me to sit out in the waiting room for two days. You thought I’d blown you off, and you were blowing me off in return.” I shook my head. “But I still don’t understand. What made you change your mind about investing?”

Hudson did that scratching-his-chin thing he often seemed to do. “My sister’s very passionate about your business. She’s had a rough time at work since our father died. When I stripped everything else away, your business is one I would’ve been interested in under different circumstances. I figured it wasn’t fair to hold the fact that you blew me off against you and disappoint Olivia.”

“But I didn’t blow you off. I was disappointed when you didn’t call.”

Hudson looked down at my feet. I got the feeling he was as uncertain about what to do with this new information as I was. Again the phone on his desk buzzed.

“Yes, Helena?” he said.

“You have Esme on line one.”

He sighed. “I’ll take it. Just tell her I’ll be one minute, please.”

“Okay. And I’ll grab Dan some coffee and put him in the conference room. I’ll let him know you’ll be a few more minutes.”

“Thank you, Helena.”

Hudson finally lifted his gaze, but he did so by working his way slowly up from my toes. By the time our eyes met, my body was tingling all over. The devilish hint of a smirk on his face didn’t make things any better. “So you were saying…you were disappointed I didn’t call?”

I swallowed, feeling a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. “Ummm…”

Hudson’s ghost of a smirk turned to a full-blown grin. “Esme is my grandmother, so I have to take this call. To be continued?”

I nodded slowly. “Umm…yeah…sure.”

I turned and headed for the door. But before I could open it, Hudson’s voice stopped me. “Stella?”

“Yes?”

“I gave the perfume you made for me to my grandmother. She’d like more.”

I smiled. “No problem.”

***

Later that night, the cleaning crew knocked on my office door to ask if they could come in and empty my garbage can.

“Oh. Of course.” I wouldn’t have guessed it was time for them already, but I’d gotten engrossed in typing up my vendor list and making notes on which products I bought from who and the terms. It was definitely going to be a task to move all of the knowledge from where I currently kept it—in my head—to the different systems Rothschild Investments offered. But in the end, I knew it would be for the best. I picked up my cell and was shocked to find it was already 6:30. I’d looked at the time after Olivia said goodnight, and it had been a little before five o’clock. That felt like only ten minutes ago.

A smiling older woman dumped the contents of my wastepaper basket into a bigger garbage can in the hall and came back in carrying a vacuum. “Would you mind? It will take less than five minutes.”

“Oh, not at all. I need to stretch my legs and use the ladies’ room anyway.” I shut my laptop and made my way down to the bathroom. As I approached, I found Hudson leaning against the wall right next to the door, looking down at his cell phone.


Tags: Vi Keeland Romance