“The irony is that she’s been trying to reach you,” he added. “About the position.”
“What?”
“The creative director job. She’s interested in talking to you about it.” He gestured to the laptop. “The website I made includes all the contact information you’d need, including hers. She’s called me three times trying to get your number. I didn’t want to give it to her withoutyour permission. She’s spoken with Anica, from what I’ve heard, but she wants you.”
I stared at him, trying to process this information. “You’re telling me that Eleanor Trolio, editor-in-chief of Modern Wedding, wants to offer me the job you confessed to stealing my ideas for?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“But what about you? What are you going to do?”
“Not sure yet. I may go back to school, actually. Computer science and user experience design.” He said it casually, as if switching careers midlife was a minor adjustment. “Turns out I have a genuine interest in the technical side of your app concept. Not enough to steal it again,” he added quickly, “but enough to want to understand it better. Besides, then I don’t have to rely on Callan’s people. Or Callan.” He shuddered.
“You really are intimidated by him, aren’t you?”
“The guy has a bajillion dollars.”
“That is the exact number, actually.” I chuckled and froze. God, how long had it been since I’d laughed for real? “So that’s what the great Hudson Gable is going to do, then? Be a tech nerd like my best friend’s husband?”
“It’s just Hudson now,” he corrected. “I’m in the process of legally changing my last name.”
“To what?”
“I don’t know yet. Open to suggestions, though.”
Despite everything, I grinned. “Hudson Jerkwad has a nice ring to it. Or Hudson Asshole.”
“Hudson I-Fucked-Up-Spectacularly is a bit long for official documents, but could certainly be in the running,” he offered, and I laughed louder.
It faded as reality settled back in. This man had stolen my ideas, betrayed my trust, and broken my heart. And yet...
And yet he’d also confessed publicly, sacrificed his career, sold his business, and built my app. All to make amends, not to win me back.
“Why are you really here, Hudson?” I asked, my voice softer now. “The website, the client referrals, the app—you could have done all that without flying to New York and showing up at my door.”
He was quiet for a long moment, his expression serious. “It felt like too much to say over the phone. Besides, I wanted to see you. I don’texpect forgiveness, and I certainly don’t expect another chance. I just needed you to have what’s rightfully yours, with no strings attached. I guess I needed closure.”
“I’ve been thinking about you,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “Since I saw the video. Even before that, really.”
His eyes widened, surprise and something like hope flickering across his face.
“Not always nice thoughts,” I clarified. “Sometimes they involved voodoo dolls and creative uses for wedding sparklers. I just couldn’t figure out how to keep them lit in moist places.”
That drew a small smile from him. “I’m sure you could figure it out.”
“Sometimes...” I hesitated, then pushed forward. “Sometimes I wondered if I’d ever see you again. If you’d ever try to explain. If there was anything you could possibly say or do that would make what happened... not okay, but... understandable.”
“And?”
The doorbell rang, interrupting whatever I might have said next.
“That must be the pizza,” he said, standing. “I’ll get it.”
As he went to the door, I watched him. He looked different. He seemed different.
But was it enough?
And why was I distracted by how good his ass looked in jeans? Well, I supposed it was a good thing my sex drive hadn’t completely withered away. At least I could still lust after handsome men with great asses.
