“Oh, and Willa?”
I spin around so fast I nearly fall. “Um, yes, Mr. McAllister?”
“The theme is garden party.”
Garden party? What does that mean?
He chuckles. “It means, we’re evenbarbecuing.”
Did I say that out loud? “Sounds great.” I make my way to the elevator. As I descend to the first floor, my stomach growls, but I ignore it instead focusing on one thing.
How the heck am I’m going to find Hudson Adler?
ChapterSix
HUDSON
“You introducedBarbara McAllister to some—somenobody?”
Those were the first words out of her mouth when I answered her call. There was no “Hello, Hudson. It’s your mother. How are you? I hope you’re well and happy.”
“You apparently referred to her as ‘the one’?”
“Mother.” I’m clutching my phone, knuckles white. I was afraid this was going to happen.
“I can’t believe you’d introduce someone to Barbara McAllister before introducing her tome. You know I hate that woman. I had to play dumb and say how pleased we were with your choice and that she, whoever this woman is, was a delight.” She sighs, but it comes out as more of a growl. “I looked ridiculous, and youknowI hate looking ridiculous.”
“Mother––”
“Don’t ‘Mother’ me, Hudson James Maxwell Adler.”
Shit. She broke out all four of my names. It means she’s next-level angry.
“And what about Monica?”
“It’s not what you think, and what does Monica have to do with this?” Monica Fitzgerald has been my mother’s choice of wife for me since were teens. No matter how many times I’ve told her that it’s never going to happen, she persists. Monica is no help in the matter since she wants the same thing.
“What does Monica have to do with this?” My mother’s voice has risen three octaves. “Because Monica Fitzgerald is your future wife.”
“No.” I’m shaking my head adamantly, but she can’t see it over the phone. “I willnevermarry Monica Fitzgerald.” Sure, she’s beautiful and her family is as wealthy as mine, but she’s a hateful, ugly person on the inside. I’ve witnessed it firsthand when she assumed I was cut from the same cloth as her. I am not.
“But she’s perfect.”
Then you marry her.
No, I don’t utter that aloud. It would end badly, and my goal in life is to finish my conversations with my mother quickly before they escalate into, well, something like this. “I need to go, Mother.”
I also need to grow a pair when it comes to my mother. Either that or I should bite the bullet get married to someone other than Monica Fitzgerald so this matchmaking bullshit stops.
“I’m not finished, Hudson James.” Her voice is especially high-pitched. “Was Barbara seeing things? Did you or did you not accompany a woman to one of your baseball games and sit with her and her entire company?”
“I did, yes, but it’s––”
“Did you or did you not introduce her to Barbara as ‘your girl’?” She scoffs loudly at the last two words like they hurt to say.
“I––”
“Do not lie to me, Hudson James…”
