Laurelin Paige - Forever with You

“Dammit, Hudson.” I couldn’t believe I was actually going to say what I was going to say next. “No. I don’t want David to stay anymore.” I refused to meet Hudson’s eyes. “It wouldn’t be good for him. He’s…he’s in love with me.”

“I know.”

I already knew Hudson knew. It was me that was just now admitting it.

I turned away from the desk and plopped myself down on his couch. Hudson came and sat down next to me. I rubbed my hand across his cheek. “Thank you for offering, though. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“No. It wasn’t.” He ran his fingers up and down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “But it would be worth it to make you happy.”

Man, he’d grown up in the last few weeks. I had to give him that.

But maybe I hadn’t, because I still wasn’t quite ready to let the subject of Norma Anders go to rest. “Have you considered that maybe it’s not good for Norma to work with you either?”

Hudson chuckled. “No, I haven’t. And I’m sure it’s not.”

I shifted to face him. “Could we make some sort of concession here?” I took his hand in mine, playing with it as I talked. “Like, could you not have meetings alone with her? Is there anyone else on your team that could join you in the future?”

With his free hand, he brushed a piece of hair out of my face. “On the project we’re currently working on—no. But it’s almost done, and I don’t expect that this level of secrecy would be necessary in the future.”

And on top of their private meetings, they were sharing a secret. Fucking great. “What project are you working on?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in.” Before I had a chance to scowl, he corrected himself. “I’m trying to purchase a company from someone who would never sell if they knew I was the purchaser. Norma’s the only person I can trust not to leak the information.”

“Fine.” I hated that there was no way around their working relationship. Hated it. But what could I do? “Fine,” I said again, more for me than him. “Social settings only, please. Where there are people around. And when this deal’s over, you won’t need private meetings with her anymore?”

“No. I won’t.”

“I’m going to still ask about her. Like, all the time. Because I can’t just let it go.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

Though I was pleased that we’d worked through our argument constructively, the resolution was still a bitter pill to swallow. “Do you know how much this hurts to let you keep her employed?” I squeezed his hand hard, digging my fingernails into the back of his hand to accentuate my pain level.

Hudson narrowed his eyes, tolerating my assault. “Believe me, I do.”

“Okay then. As long as we’re clear.” I released his hand.

“Was there another reason you stopped by?” He rubbed the back of his hand. “Or was Norma the intended subject all along?”

I laughed as I recalled the ridiculousness of my day. “No. I came by because I just wanted to see you. Lunch was…interesting…and then Celia was there again.”

His brow shot up. “Celia was there?”

“Jordan said he texted you.”

Hudson reached in his pants pocket and pulled out his phone. He flipped through a few screens. “Damn. I left my phone on silent. I didn’t know. She didn’t try anything?”

“Nope. Just let me know she was there.”

“Alayna. I’m so sorry.” He pulled me so I was half on his lap and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I sighed, settling into the warmth of him.

Hudson kissed the top of my head. “Maybe you should take some time off. I could send you out of town. Would you like another week at my spa?”

I stretched my head to see if he was serious. He was. “I can’t leave now. Not with everything at the club. And she’ll know she scared me off. I can’t let her have that victory.”

“That’s a very brave response. I just hate that you’re in this position.” He tightened his arms around my breasts.

It was then that I remembered my other reason for stopping by. “Do you have a plan to deal with her?”

He was silent for a beat. “I talked to my lawyer today,” he said finally. “As you said, there’s nothing we can do legally. But we’re looking into some other options.”

“Illegal options?”

“How about you let me handle this? I’ll fill you in when everything’s sorted out.”

I didn’t have the energy at the moment to push him. Besides, it seemed he really didn’t have anything worked out at all, and forcing him to admit that would be unkind.

So I let it go. “You require an awful lot of trust these days.”

He placed a light kiss at my temple. “Too much?” His voice was strained and his body tight—it was his turn to need my reassurance.

So I said, “No. I trust you.” Though sometimes my trust was more of a work-in-progress. I turned to kiss his cheek. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Always.” His lips met mine just as his intercom buzzed. He sighed against my mouth. “I’m sure that’s Patricia letting me know my next appointment is here.”

I stood and then offered my hand to help him up. “Guess my blowjob plans are shot to hell then.”

His eyes darkened. “Maybe I could make them wait.”

Laughing, I swatted at his shoulder. “Shut up. I didn’t have blowjob plans. For all that I’m conceding to, I think I’m the one who deserves the sexual favors.”

“Tonight.”

“I’m holding you to it, H.” I reached up to give him a final peck on the lips. “Meanwhile, you should know that I hate you a little.”

“You do not. You love me.”

I shrugged. “Same thing.”

Hudson walked me out so he could welcome his next client in as I was leaving. I’d almost made it to the elevators when Trish called after me.

I walked back to her desk, wondering if she meant to scold me for keeping Hudson occupied.

“This was delivered for you while you were with Mr. Pierce.” Trish handed me a simple white envelope with my name written in block letters on the outside.

It didn’t occur to me that I should have given the envelope to my bodyguard until after I’d opened it and found the same business card that had been stuck in my books at home. Celia Werner, Interior Design.

The knot in my belly tightened. She’d been on foot when I’d left her at the restaurant. How could she possibly have followed me so quickly? Did she simply guess that I’d come here? Why hadn’t Reynold seen her coming up in the lobby?

“Who gave you this?” I asked Trish, aware that my voice was more demanding than would be deemed polite.

“I don’t know. A courier. I didn’t pay attention.”

“Was she blonde, blue-eyes—”

Trish cut me off. “It was a he.”

That explained why Reynold hadn’t seen Celia—she’d had someone else deliver it. As for knowing I was at Hudson’s office, well, wasn’t that predictable of me too?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. All she’d left was a silly business card. It didn’t hurt me. It was meant to scare me, that’s all. Meant to warn me that she was watching. That she knew how to get to me.

Resolving to not let her get to me, I opened my eyes. I quickly scrawled a note to Hudson on the white envelope and put the card back inside. “Thank you, Trish. When Hudson is free, can you give this to him?”

I really wanted to burst through his doors and show him personally. Then convince him that both of us should leave it all behind and go to his spa.

But that would be running away. And running away never solves anything. Or so, that’s what everyone always says.

After I left Hudson’s office, I decided to try to forget my tension by wrapping myself in work. I was successful for most of the afternoon, but the anxiousness and stress of the day lingered just under the surface. I had to be at the club to meet Gwen by eight and imagined it would be a late night. I longed for a run, but decided instead on a group therapy session. Thursdays weren’t the day I usually went, but there was a session at six led by my favorite counselor. I could grab a bite to eat, hit the group, and be back in time to work that evening.

I shifted in my rusty folding chair in the Unity Church basement as I focused on listening to the others share. Most of the Thursday night regulars were strangers to me, and it seemed most of their addictions were hard to relate to mine. One person was a shopping addict. Another was addicted to social media. There was a gamer there too, a guy who was just as consumed with buying the latest system and game as he was with playing them. The only person that I felt even slightly connected to was the tattooed sex addict that I’d seen on other nights as well. I’d heard her speak before and recognized a lot of her same fears and frustrations as my own.

“Would you like to share anything, Laynie?”

I was more than a little surprised when the group leader called my name. Members weren’t required to speak at each meeting—or ever, if they didn’t feel comfortable—so it was odd for Lauren to call on me specifically. She knew me, though, having counseled me since the early days of my recovery. And if she couldn’t tell from my demeanor that I had something on my mind, the fact that I’d shown up twice in one week had to be an indicator.

I gave the customary history of my illness and then paused. Since I hadn’t planned on speaking, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to say. After a breath, I said, “I’ve had some extra stressors in my life recently, and I’m here because I feel like it’s causing me to backslide.”

Lauren nodded, her long braids clicking with the movement. “Very concise identification of emotion, Laynie. Let’s first talk about what kind of stressors you’re dealing with. Is there anything you can eliminate?”

“Not really.” I guess half of my stressors would be removed if I broke up with Hudson, but that wasn’t an option I was willing to consider.

“And that’s perfectly fine. Sometimes you can’t eliminate stressors.” Lauren turned her words to the whole group, using it as a teaching moment. “Most times you have to deal with them. Or we choose to deal with them because the reward is greater than the impact of the stress.”

Boy, had she nailed it. “Yes. That’s it.”

“So what are these stressors?”

“Um.” Now that I thought about it, I realized I’d had a lot in the last few weeks. “I recently moved in with my boyfriend.” I didn’t add that the relationship was still fairly new. At least not out loud. Internally, I marked it as another factor in my anxiety level.

“You have a new living situation.” It was customary for the leader to acknowledge the information shared. “That’s an adjustment.”

“Yes. And I just took a huge promotion at my job.”

The room buzzed as people shared congratulations. “Kudos to you,” Lauren said. “But yes, another stressor.”

“And my boyfriend...” How to bring up my current situation when I wasn’t quite sure why I was in it in the first place was tricky. “He has baggage that I’m having some trouble dealing with.”

Here Lauren took notice. “What kind of baggage?”

“Well, his ex—” Celia wasn’t really his ex, but it was easier to call her that. “She’s decided for whatever reason that it’s her mission to destroy our relationship. She’s been terrorizing us. Me, really. First, she accused me of harassing her—which I didn’t do.” I looked around at the other group members. “Honestly.”

“Hey, no one’s judging you here,” Lauren reminded.

Which wasn’t exactly true, because I was certainly judging myself. Admitting the next part was especially hard. I was about to complain about the thing people usually complained about me for. “And now she’s harassing me. Following me places. Leaving me notes and things.”

“Oh my god,” the shopping addict exclaimed. “Have you been to the police?”

A few other people mumbled the same concern.

I shook my head, halting the talk. “She hasn’t done anything worthy of reporting.” I could go on about what was and wasn’t worthy of reporting, but it wasn’t relevant.

“That kind of harassment would be stressful to anyone.” Lauren leaned toward me, her forearms braced on her thighs. “But I’m going to take a guess that it’s been harder on you. Does it bring back emotions from your past?”

“Of course it does. I used to do these same things to other people. It’s awful. It makes me feel awful.” I’d been afraid I might cry, but surprisingly, the tears were absent. Perhaps, I was growing stronger or had become more reconciled with the situation.

With my emotions in control, I was able to delve further into analysis. “Also…I kind of feel like I deserve it now. Like it’s my karma for the shit I pulled.”