“Why not? Did he do something to you? You want me to beat him up?”
“No and no. I can’t see him, because I think he might want to have sex with me. There, I said it. Satisfied? I think he might be interested in me, so I can’t see him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t have sex with him!” I shouted.
“Why not?”
“Because…” I started to say I was a married woman, but after pouring sewage into my husband’s love nest, I couldn’t really use my official marital status as an excuse. “Because you have to get naked to have sex.”
“He might like that,” Hudson said, even softer than before. His voice was a soft rumble, coming from deep within his chest. It made me tingle, and I shivered.
“No. I can’t be naked. He would laugh.”
“Why? You’re perfect. He would be a lucky man, Eliza. Any man would be lucky.”
I turned to face him, and we locked eyes. His lips parted slightly, and he exhaled. He was studying me, or was he waiting for something from me? Waiting for my reaction? Waiting for me to do something or say something? He continued to look at me, and I swore his gaze went from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
“What did you say?” I asked.
Somewhere in the conversation, we had turned serious. Somewhere we had turned a corner, but I had no idea where it was going to lead. I didn’t trust myself to read his expression or attempt to read his thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions that would leave me humiliated and lose my remaining self-worth.
“Eliza…” he began. Hudson’s voice was soft and serious, nothing like his usual boss Marine self.
There was a loud knock on the door, interrupting him. I moved to get up, but Hudson grabbed my arm.
“Eliza,” he repeated urgently, never breaking eye contact.
There was another knock, even louder than the first. “Sheriff!” someone barked from the other side of the door.
“Oh, geez,” I breathed. I clutched Hudson’s shoulders in a blind panic. “It’s the fuzz. It’s the coppers. They found me, Hudson. Oh no, they know what I did. They’ve come to get me. They’re going to cuff me and make me do a perp walk. They’re going to lock me up. I can’t go to jail, Hudson. I can’t for so many reasons. One: I can’t pee in front of other people. Two: The mattresses are too thin. Three: There are criminals there. Four…”
There was another knock. “Sheriff! Open up!”
“Four: I need to watch television to fall asleep,” I continued. “Five…”
Hudson cupped my cheek. “Eliza, we don’t have time to count. They’re going to break down the door.”
“Hide me,” I pleaded. “Hide me, and I’ll go on the lam. Hide me, and I’ll move to Venezuela or the Cayman Islands. Please, hide me. I can’t get arrested. My son is a lawyer. How would that look at his firm if his mother is a convict?”
“Go in the other room, and I’ll see what this is about.”
I ran to the sunroom, and I crouched low to the ground, hiding behind my two handcrafted chairs.
I heard Hudson open the front door and speak with two men, but I couldn’t hear what they were actually saying. A couple minutes later, I heard the door close again and footsteps approach the sunroom.
“It’s just me,” Hudson announced, and I stood up.
“Are they gone?” I whispered.
“They’re outside.”
“Are they going to arrest me?”
“It’s not about last night,” he explained.
I felt a sudden rush of relief and then another one of alarm. “Then, what is it? Is it Jamie? Is it about my son? Is he all right?”
