I settled against him, his arm tentatively wrapping around my shoulders as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me yet. It felt right, somehow. Not perfect, not fixed, but right. A beginning.
“So,” I said, looking at the laptop still displaying my app, “tell me more about this partnership Callan set up. Because if we’re going to do this—really do this—I want to know everything.”
“Everything,” he agreed, pulling me closer. “No more secrets.”
As he began explaining the technical details of the app development, I watched his face and grinned. He was animated now, passionate about something real rather than something calculated. This was a Hudson I’d only glimpsed before, one who cared about creating something meaningful rather than just maintaining an image.
This was a Hudson I could maybe, someday, forgive completely.
This was a Hudson I could maybe, someday, love back.
But for now, possibility was enough. Possibility and pizza and the promise of something real, something built on truth rather than appearances.
It was a start. And for the first time in two weeks, two days, and approximately fifteen hours, I felt like myself again.
Epilogue: 6 Months Later
MARI
“If one more person asks me how it feels to be a ‘power couple,’ I’m going to stab them with this fancy appetizer fork.”
Hudson glanced down at the miniature utensil in my hand. “That’s actually a cocktail pick, not a fork.”
“Even better. More stabby.” I smiled sweetly at a passing photographer, who immediately raised her camera. I maintained the smile until she’d moved on, then promptly returned to my murder plotting. “Seriously, who invented these stupid things? It’s like eating a meal through a pinhole while being slowly starved to death at your own party.”
“Most people don’t attend their own launch party to eat, sweetheart.” Hudson’s hand settled at the small of my back. “They come to network, to celebrate?—”
“To take selfies with the fancy ice sculpture that cost more than my first car,” I finished, nodding toward the elaborate frozen masterpiece in the center of the room—a crystalline tablet displaying our app logo. “By the way, why does an app need an ice sculpture? Won’t it, you know, melt? Like our funding if we keep spending it on frozen water?”
Hudson’s laugh still sent a little thrill through me even after six months together. “The ice sculpture was Eleanor Trolio’s contribution.Apparently, Modern Wedding doesn’t know how to celebrate without at least one temporarily frozen object. And I think she still hopes you’ll take a job with them.”
“Not happening.” I sniffed the air dramatically. “Do you smell that? It’s the distinct aroma of our investor dollars evaporating along with that ice.”
“I think that’s actually the truffle oil from the hors d’oeuvres.” He pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Try to enjoy it. Tonight is about celebrating everything you’ve accomplished.”
“I’d enjoy it more with actual food. Preferably something that doesn’t require electron microscopy to see.” I snagged another passing appetizer anyway, popping it into my mouth. “Though I will admit, the view is spectacular.”
The rooftop venue overlooked Manhattan’s skyline, the city lights creating a glittering backdrop for our app launch celebration. The spring evening was perfect. Warm enough to be comfortable, cool enough that my carefully applied makeup wasn’t melting down my face. Even I had to admit it was a magical setting, though I’d rather eat my cocktail pick than say so out loud.
“Speak of the devil,” I murmured as Eleanor Trolio herself glided toward us.
“Mari! Hudson! The party is absolutely magnificent.” She air-kissed both my cheeks, a gesture I’d still not mastered the art of reciprocating without accidentally head-butting someone. I’d decided a long time ago that it was better to stay still or risk either a concussion or a very awkward kiss on the lips. “And your app. Darling, it’s simply perfect.”
“Thank you for your support, Eleanor,” Hudson said smoothly. “We couldn’t have done this without Modern Wedding’s backing.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Six months, and he still occasionally slipped into Professional Charmer mode. Though now I found it more amusing than annoying. Progress.
“Mari deserves all the credit,” Hudson continued.
“Of course. Her vision, her innovation. I’m only sorry we didn’t recognize it sooner.”
“Well, better late than never,” I replied, raising my champagne glass. “Though if you really want to make it up to me, you could introduce some sliders to that appetizer tray. I’m dying here.”
Eleanor laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, you two should circulate. Everyone wants to congratulate the industry’s favorite redemption story.”
As she drifted away, Hudson leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still here.” I grinned up at him. “What does that say about your judgment?”
