I laughed. “Okay.”

She stood. “All I need you to do is show up.”

“I can handle that.”

“I have my admin making us reservations right now. I’m going to book our flight home for Sunday, if that’s okay—just in case we need a second day on Saturday.”

My brows furrowed. “Flight? Where is the shoot?”

“Oh. The photographer is based out in LA. Didn’t I mention that?”

“You didn’t. But that’s fine. I’ve never been to California.”

“You’re going to love it. We’ll probably have a lot of downtime. I can play tour guide.”

“Okay. That sounds great. Thanks, Olivia.”

***

The following morning, I was up and ready early. I’d taken a melatonin before going to sleep last night, knowing I’d be anxious and toss and turn. It was bad enough my face was going to be plastered all over marketing materials; I didn’t want to have bags under my eyes, if I could help it.

Our flight was at 9:30, but we had to leave for the airport by 6:30. At 6:15 I was drinking my second cup of coffee and staring out the window, watching the sun come up, when a black stretch limousine pulled up in front of my building. There was never any parking, so I rushed to the kitchen and dumped the rest of my coffee, then rinsed out my mug and grabbed my luggage. In the hallway, I pushed the button for the elevator, but realized I’d forgotten my other bag with my laptop. So I left my luggage and ran back to my apartment.

From down the hall, I heard the elevator ding its arrival as I locked my door for the second time. I didn’t want the car to have to circle the block, so I hurried to grab my bag as the doors slid open. Not expecting anyone to be inside the elevator, I barreled in without paying attention and crashed right into someone trying to exit.

“Shit.” I dropped the handle to the suitcase I’d been dragging behind me, and it tipped over and fell to the floor. Bending to pick it up, I continued, “Sorry! Are you oka—” I stopped in my tracks as I looked up. “Hudson?”

“I guess I should be grateful you didn’t swing at me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking you up to go to the airport.” He shrugged. “What else would I be doing here?”

I was thoroughly confused. “But where’s Olivia?”

“Oh, that’s right. I told Olivia I’d let you know I was going instead of her. It must’ve slipped my mind. Sorry about that.”

“But why are you going instead of Olivia?”

“She had a change in her schedule. Is that a problem?”

Other than my heart already hammering after being close to this man for one minute—and now I’d have to spend days by his side—what could be the problem with that? I looked into his eyes, not quite sure what I was searching for. Then I finally exhaled. I was a professional; I could handle this.

Straightening my spine, I said, “No. No problem at all.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a sparkle in his eye. But I didn’t have time to explore it since Hudson grabbed my wheely bag and held out his hand for me to enter the still-waiting elevator car. “After you.”

I felt very off-kilter, yet managed to step inside.

My mind raced with a million thoughts as we made our way down to the lobby, though one particular question stuck out. My building didn’t have a doorman. We had a buzzer system, and visitors had to be buzzed in. “How did you get in?”

“Fisher. He was heading out for a run when I arrived.”

I’d have to remember to thank my friend for the heads up. He knew I thought I was going with Olivia. He’d raided my refrigerator while I packed and told him all about my trip last night. But whatever—I had bigger fish to fry. Like how I was going to keep my distance from the man standing next to me in the elevator when he looked so damn good. Hudson had on a simple pair of navy slacks and a white dress shirt. I was standing a half step behind him, and it was impossible not to notice how nicely the material hugged his round ass. I bet he did a shitload of squats.

He looked over at me, and my eyes jumped to his in the nick of time. At least I hoped they had. Though the corner of his mouth might’ve said otherwise. Great. Just great. This is going to be one hell of a long trip.

Hudson had to take an overseas call on the ride to the airport, and then once we arrived, he was sent to a different line since he had security pre-check and I didn’t. I was grateful for the reprieve. It wasn’t until we boarded the plane that we really had time to talk. We were seated next to each other in row three of first class, which I hadn’t expected.

“Well, this is comfy.” I buckled my seatbelt. “I’ve never sat in first class before.”

“I could do coach years ago when there was more space between the seats, but over the last ten years they’ve made it impossible for someone over six-feet tall to sit comfortably—especially on a six-hour flight to the West Coast.”

A flight attendant walked over with a tray of orange juice in champagne flutes. “Mimosa?”

“Uh, sure,” I said. “I’ll have one.”

She passed me a flute and then looked to Hudson.

He held up his hand. “No, thank you. But I’ll take a coffee whenever you get a chance.”

“Sure thing.”

After she walked away, I held up my glass to Hudson. “Not a morning drinker?”

He smiled. “Not usually.”

“I probably should have skipped it, too, but my nerves are shot.”

“Nervous flyer?”

“No…not really. Though I sometimes get a little nauseous if there’s turbulence.”

“Great.” He pointed to the aisle. “Tilt your head that way.”

I laughed. “I’m guessing you’re the type who doesn’t even notice you’re on a plane. You probably work through half of it and then close your eyes and take a nap.”

“Close. I usually work through most of the flight.”

The flight attendant came back to deliver Hudson’s coffee. Service was definitely better up here than in coach.

“So what are you nervous about?” he asked. “If it’s not the flight?”

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe having my picture taken by a famous photographer so it can be plastered all over the Signature Scent marketing materials?”

Hudson looked back and forth between my eyes. “You want to know a secret?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

He leaned close and whispered. “You can do anything.”

I laughed. “That’s the secret?”

“Well, technically it’s not a secret since the only person who doesn’t seem to know it is you.”

I sighed. “That’s very kind, but I’m not so sure it’s true.”

Again Hudson took a moment to look at me. It seemed like he was debating whether he should say something.

“Do you remember your first day working in the office?” he finally asked.

“At Rothschild? Yes, why?”

“You asked me why I changed my mind about investing in your company.”

“You said your sister was very persuasive, or something along those lines.”