The Invitation by Vi Keeland(50)
Hudson had turned to leave, but he looked back when he heard the elevator open.
“Would you…want to come up for coffee or something?” My heart pounded inside as I waited for him to speak.
“Coffee?” he eventually said.
I bit my lip and nodded.
Hudson searched my face. “You sure you want me to come up?”
When I took too long to debate my answer, he smiled sadly. “That’s what I thought.”
I let out a relieved exhale and shook my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I tease you that I’m waiting for you to ask me out, but it’s not really about you making the first move. It’s about your head being clear on what you want. This isn’t over. I’m just waiting for that little whisper in your head to get loud enough for you to listen.”
“What whisper?”
“The one that keeps telling you that despite your trust issues and concerns about our business relationship, you want me as much as I want you.”
I smiled halfheartedly, and Hudson took both of my hands in his. He lifted his chin to the empty space in the open car behind me.
“Now why don’t you get back in the elevator before I lose the last shred of self-control I have and join you.” He raised one of my hands to his lips and kissed the top. “Go.”
I nodded and stepped back in. Pushing the button on the door panel, I said quietly, “Thanks, Hudson.”
He winked as the doors began to slide closed. “Enjoy Theo.”
CHAPTER 17
Stella
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.”