The woman’s expression softens. “Yes, you did. And who is this beautiful young woman?”
“Brianne Prescott, this is Maggie. Maggie, meet Brianne.”
I treat the woman to my warmest smile. “Hi, Maggie. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. I don’t see Dr.… Hudson often anymore, and it’s nice to know he’s not alone.”
“Maggie, is that Hudson?” a woman’s voice calls out.
“If she was so curious, she could have met me at the door,” Hudson mutters, and I place a hand on his arm to calm him.
Maggie steps back, and we walk inside. Marble floors, a winding staircase to the left, and heavy dark wood décor and equally dark drapery on the windows surround them.
“Hudson, it’s about time you came home!” His mother, an attractive woman with dark hair and a Chanel skirt and jacket, comes forward to greet him. She possesses glowing skin and a perfect bob surrounding her made-up face.
“Hello, Mother.” Hudson duly offers up his cheek, which she air-kisses. “And you must be Brianne.” She offers her hand, and I take it.
“So nice to meet you. Hudson’s told me such nice things about you and the family.”
“Has he now?”
Hudson clears his throat, and I do my best not to poke him in the side.
“Come. Your father’s waiting in the study. We can have drinks before dinner.” She turns and walks away, fully expecting us to follow.
“Do you want to run yet?” Hudson’s lips twitch in a grin.
“Nah. It’ll take more than a cool breeze to scare me. Let’s go. I’m curious about your father.”
Hudson rolls his eyes. Hooking his arm in mine, we head the way his mother has gone, and soon I find myself in a wood-paneled room with built-in bookshelves and what appears to be old books lining the shelves. An antique clock hangs on one wall, and a large mahogany desk takes up one side of the room.
A man in a suit stands beside a bay window, turning when we enter. I stare at an older version of Hudson. Martin Northfield’s salt-and-pepper hair extends to his beard, giving me a glimpse of Hudson’s appearance in the future. Even their dour expressions are similar. I much prefer his laughing persona and the sexy grin that tempts me to sin.
“Hello, Dad.” As Hudson speaks, he pulls me closer to his side.
“Hudson. It’s good to see you.” He steps forward and shakes his son’s hand.
I do my best not to react, although at this point, I really want to cry for the cold atmosphere in which Hudson has been raised. I applaud him for managing to escape and become the kind, caring man I know him to be.
“Dad, this is Brianne Prescott. Brianne, my father, Martin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brianne.” His father looks me over and, seemingly satisfied, gives me a nod. “Can I get either of you a drink?” he asks.
Hudson glances my way, but I shake my head. “No, thank you.” Alcohol makes me tired, and I want to be wide-awake for Hudson later.
“None for me, either, thanks.” Hudson declines as well.
His father shrugs. “Well, then. Shall we go straight into dinner?”
If it means getting this stiff, formal evening over with, I am all for food.
The rest of the night proceeds as I expected once meeting the Northfields. There are more courses than I can eat in one sitting served by a man and woman in uniform. Martin doesn’t ask about Hudson’s career or how he is enjoying his new jobs; instead, he brags about the family trading business and deals he has in the works. He pushes for Hudson to give up jobs that barely earn him a living and instead come home, where he belongs, to which Hudson adamantly puts his foot down.
There is something sexy about a man who knows what he wants and refuses to bow to anyone in order to achieve his goals, but this conversation tells me how difficult the request for investment money is going to be for Hudson. A talk he plans to have on Sunday morning before we fly home later that afternoon.
Nobody asks me what I do for a living, nor do they seem interested in me at all, so I eat in silence and grow angry on Hudson’s behalf.
When we are blessedly on dessert and coffee and leaving for the hotel is finally in sight, Lucille speaks up for what seems like the first time.
