Home > The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection(237)

The Best of Winter Renshaw - An 8 Book Collection(237)
Author: Winter Renshaw

 

 

Fourteen

 

 

Hudson

 

* * *

 

“New girl, what’s your name again?” I ask the mousey brunette seated at Mari’s old desk Monday morning. The temp agency sent her after I requested their best. This has to be some kind of fucking joke. The girl’s shaking like a leaf, sitting with her arms clenched at her sides like she’s afraid to touch anything.

“Shoshannah,” she says, her voice as meek as that pathetic aura she’s giving off. A few months working with me and she’ll find her spine, I’m sure of it.

“All right, Savannah, I like my coffee by eight fifteen, and when my office door is closed, that means you are to pretend I don’t exist.” I grab a stack of mail off the corner of her desk. “If you need anything, ask one of the girls down the hall.”

“Sure. Yes. Okay,” she says, nodding quickly. “And it’s Shoshannah.”

“That’s what I said.” I turn and head to my office, trying not to chuckle. Breaking in the new ones never fails to amuse me.

Once in my office, I fire up my computer and pull up my CAD program. I’ve got a backlog of projects, but I promised Abel I’d whip him up the backyard shed of his dreams, so that’s what I’m going to do.

I’m working on the gable roof when my phone rings.

“Yes, Savannah?” I answer.

“I-it’s Sh-shoshannah,” she corrects me again, stumbling over her words. I must terrify her already. “You have a call on line two.”

“Who is it?” I ask, frowning.

“I-I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

“Always ask, Savannah.” I hang up and press line two. “This is Hudson.”

“Are you being nice?” a woman’s voice comes through from the other end.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said the new girl was starting today. I’m just calling to make sure you’re being nice.”

“Hi, Mari.” I smirk. Smart ass. “Did you need something or were you calling to impart your sage advice?”

“The world is already full of assholes. Why be one more?”

“I don’t have time to rehash a stale conversation.”

“I just remember how my first day was,” she says with a hopeless sigh. “God, you were an ass. And I love that I can tell you that now. Don’t think for one second I’ll ever let you live it down.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“What’s the new girl’s name?” she asks.

“Shoshanna.”

“Is that her name or is that just what you’re calling her?”

I chuff. “Don’t you have something else to tend to? I don’t have time for … pointless chit chat.”

“Actually, no. I have nothing to do because you keep me holed up in your tower like some princess, some canary in a gilded cage,” she says.

“Do you know how many women would kill to be a canary in my cage?”

“I’m sure there’s a plethora of women, Hudson. I’m sure they’re lined up the block and around the corner,” she says. “But being a kept woman isn’t my thing, and I’m bored out of my freaking mind here.”

“Take a pottery class. My treat.”

“Pottery?”

“Yoga?”

“Nah,” she says. “I’m not that flexible.”

“That’s a shame. Go get your nails done. Go shopping. Catch a show on Broadway. My treat. Just … find something to do,” I say, sighing as I click my mouse.

“Fine. I’ll take Isabelle out for lunch,” she says. “What are you working on? I can hear you clicking around.”

“Your father’s tool shed.”

“No shit?” She laughs.

“Goodbye, Mari. I’ll see you this evening.” Hanging up, I shake my head, finding myself fighting off the amusement tickling my ribs. This woman makes me smile. And laugh. And I don’t quite know how I feel about it yet.

I wasn’t expecting to enjoy her company to this extent.

I wasn’t expecting to enjoy my time in Orchard Hill, Nebraska or to sleep like a baby in that tiny double bed, my body pressed against hers.

And I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to miss her (and her smart mouth) when she’s not around.

My phone buzzes on the corner of my desk.

 

* * *

 

SIENNA: Back from Paris! Going to be in town this wknd. Want to hook up?

ME: Busy. Sorry.

SIENNA: Seriously?

SIENNA: …

SIENNA: Hudson?

SIENNA: Whatever. Your loss.

SIENNA: You’re lucky you have a big dick. That’s the only remotely likeable quality about you. Asshole.

 

* * *

 

A month ago I would have jumped at the chance to have a night with Sienna. Out of all the girls whose numbers fill my phone, she was always my number one. I would rearrange my entire schedule for an evening with the woman whose sexual stamina nearly outrivaled mine.

But times have changed.

I’m a taken man now … if only for the next few months.

I wait for Sienna to calm down and quit blowing up my phone, and then I power it down. A morning full of interruptions is no way to start a productive Monday, and I’ve got way too much shit to take care of.

Finishing up Abel’s shed, I save the file and email the blueprints to the address Abel scribbled down for me on a scrap of paper last weekend.

I haven’t told Mari yet, but Abel pulled me aside before we left and made me promise never to hurt her.

I gave him my word.

 

 

Fifteen

 

 

Mari

 

* * *

 

“Where’s Marta?” Hudson removes his jacket as soon as he walks in the door tonight, draping it over his left arm as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“I gave her the night off.” I stir the veggies I’m sautéing. “Thought I’d make us dinner.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“This is what couples do. They cook for each other. This is all in the name of practice and authenticity.”

His hands graze my sides, but only for a passing moment. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wanted to kiss me.

But he knows how I feel about that.

“Why don’t you get comfortable and meet me in the dining room?” I ask, plating the food.

Candles are lit, music is playing, places are set, and the curtains are pulled to reveal a glowing, twilight city view.

This is about as romantic as it’s ever going to get for us, but I’ll take it.

A minute later, I meet him with the food, taking my seat to his right.

“I never knew you could cook,” he says, reaching for his fork. I’ve poured him a glass of wine already, filling my glass with water. I figured if I did it ahead of time, it would save him from pointing out once again that I’m not drinking. “It smells wonderful.”

“Thank you.” I scoot closer, watching as he takes his first bite, then his second.

I never knew I could cook either, but with all this extra time on my hands, I was able to scour YouTube in search of some decent cooking videos, head to the organic grocery store on the corner, and head back in time to fix dinner before he got home.

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