Of course, he had children now. Word on the street was that they changed everything.
Trish frowned, her expression hardening, the kind of look that preceded a dismissal.
I cut in before she tried. “Just ring him. Tell him it’s me. Tell him I need to see him now. Tell him I insist.” I stared at her then her phone, willing her to pick it up.
She hesitated for only a beat before she did. “Mr. Pierce, I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a visitor that insists on seeing you right away.”
I strained to hear his response but the receiver was too tight against her ear and I heard nothing.
“It’s not a him,” Trish said, eyeing me up and down. “It’s Celia Werner-Fasbender.”
The next few seconds passed like they’d been dipped in molasses. I held my breath. I tried not to move. If he turned me away, there was a very good chance I could cry, my hormones being what they were these days. In fact, if he made me wait a second longer—
“Yes, sir.” She hung up the phone and pasted on her too-friendly smile, the one that said there was a whole lot going on behind it that no one in the world was privy to. “He’s with someone. It will be just a moment, if you’d like to take a seat.”
Every cell in my body seemed to sigh in relief as I let out the air I’d been holding. I gave her a matching fake smile, raising her a sugary tone. “I’d rather stand, thank you.”
“Suit yourself.”
A handful of seconds later, I wondered if that had been the right choice. Sitting was never a powerful position, and I wanted to present as strong. But if he made me wait, like he very well might, I wasn’t sure my swollen feet could handle it. My fault for wearing a pointed-toe stiletto instead of choosing a more sensible pump.
But only a couple of minutes passed before the doors opened, and instead of being faced with whomever Hudson had been with, it was the man himself stepping into the lobby, as handsome and as formidable as he’d ever been with his imperious expression and his bespoke suit that brought out the gray of his eyes.
“Celia Werner. I didn’t expect I’d ever see you step foot in my offices again.” He didn’t offer his hand, and the chilly timbre of his tone was more threatening than welcome.
What had I expected? A smile and a warm embrace? I’d been tormenting his future wife the last time we’d spoken.
I channeled the woman I’d been then and sneered. “Don’t get your panties all twisted. This visit is harmless. And it’s Werner-Fasbender now, which I’m sure you already know.”
“Yes, I’d heard.”
I felt a twinge of guilt at adding the hyphen in my name. I hadn’t been using it, not just because it was Edward’s preference, but because it felt right. I was more his than I’d ever been my father’s.
Right now, though, as irritating and archaic as the surname construct was, it seemed useful to claim both, a subtle reminder that I had come from two powerful men, a suggestion that I had them both behind me, nevermind that it wasn’t true.
He assessed me with calculating eyes, and I let him, taking a moment to study him in return. I was wrong, I realized now. He wasn’t as formidable as he used to be, and while I could credit my newly found self-worth as the reason, it seemed there was something else as well. Something gentler in his gaze. Something gentler in his jaw. And the new lines at his mouth added a dose of friendly to his character. They said he was a man who could laugh. A man who did laugh. That hadn’t been the Hudson who’d taught me The Game.
It seemed I wasn’t the only one of us who’d changed.
My throat felt thick as melancholy rushed through me. I forced it down with a hard swallow before it took hold. “Are you going to keep me in your lobby all morning, or are you going to invite me in? I’ll say what I have to say wherever. I just think you might prefer the privacy.”
His eye twitched, a hint that my presence unnerved him more than he let on. “Very well. Come on in.” He turned and I followed after him, halting when he did a few steps inside his office. He nodded to a young man I’d only just noticed. “Celia, I’m sure you remember my brother, Chandler.”
“Of course I remember Chandler. My—” I blinked as I looked him over “—you sure grew up.” He was a dozen years younger than me and Hudson. I’d always known him only as an irresponsible kid, but now he was a full-fledged adult, looking professional and serious in his designer suit.
He’d been graduating from high school the last time I’d seen him. Had that much time really gone by?
“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.” His icy tone made it evident that he didn’t remember me warmly, and I wondered if he’d learned about my part in his father’s infidelity or if he was just following Hudson’s lead.
It didn’t really matter, I supposed. I hadn’t expected this to be a friendly visit, though I’d thought I might have gotten a little credit for having stayed away as long as I had.
“Yes,” I said, answering Chandler, my eyes pinned on his brother. “I’ve kept my distance. Haven’t I, Hudson?” In case he needed a reminder.
That earned me a tight smile.
He glanced over at Chandler, and I assumed he was about to dismiss him, but when he spoke again, he said, “Whatever you have to say, Celia, I hope you’re comfortable stating it in front of Chandler because I’d like him to stay.”
Chandler gave a smug grin. “You won’t even know I’m around.”
“Afraid to be alone with me, Huds? I suppose that’s fair.” I smirked. He wouldn’t be cruel with his brother in the room. So, really, the situation was a win for me.
Apparently, Hudson didn’t appreciate my gloating. “Why are you here, Celia?”
“So we’re jumping right in then. I suppose it was too much to expect we’d catch up first.” It had been just something to say, but as I scanned the room, I wished for a moment we could be something else. Not friends, maybe, but something less guarded than whatever this was. We’d been close once. I’d designed his office. He’d been my first official client. We’d celebrated with champagne on the roof.
“You’ve changed the décor,” I said, hoping I’d hid any trace of sadness from my tone. “Not what I would have done, but I like it. It suits you.”
“Why are you here?” This time the question was emphatic, a warning that his patience was wearing thin.
I sighed. “Can we at least sit?”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “Fine. Sit.” He gestured toward the sofa, waiting until I sat before taking the armchair. Chandler perched on the arm of the loveseat, a silent bodyguard who, despite having grown, came across more poodle than rottweiler.
It was almost adorable how he wanted to protect his older brother. How he thought I had any power to hurt him. I had to bite back a laugh.
Then there was Hudson, keeping me to task. “Out with it, Celia. We don’t have all day.”
Well, here goes nothing.
I straightened my back and rested my hands on my belly like it was a talisman. “I have a favor to ask.”
Hudson laughed. “That’s ballsy of you.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I just know what to say to get your attention.”