Wasted (Dirty Boys of Chicago #1) (18 page)

A
s I arrived
at the Boston International Airport, I was guided through security by my own personal TSA liaison. She then took me to a private VIP section where Hudson was waiting for me. He still had on his black suit, and his hands were in his pockets, as he looked out over the tarmac. The woman sat my luggage down, and extended her hands. “Mr. James, Calla Hart is here for you. I hope that you two have an enjoyable trip.”

She smiled sweetly, and then walked away, closing the door behind her. For the first time, I was alone with Hudson James.

“Nice evening to fly. I love traveling in the evenings, not as many prying eyes. People are too busy doing what they do in their own homes at this time of night.”

He turned and looked at me. The girls had put me in a short navy dress with pockets in the front, and a sash around the waist. My hair was lying gracefully around my shoulders. I had on red lipstick, and I felt I looked like I just walked out of some sort of movie from the 1940s. All I needed was a hat to complete the look.

“Yes, it's really beautiful.” I had no idea what to say. Was the tarmac beautiful? No. But I didn't have any other mundane conversation to bring up.

“You look fantastic. Do you fly often? I know small planes can be a burden to some people. My pilot is one of the best. I'm sure it will be a smooth trip.”

“Truth is, I've only flown a couple times. I went to the Bahamas with my family a couple years ago, but I haven’t been on a plane since. And certainly not a private plane.” Suddenly, I was telling him real pieces of information about myself. First, the tattoo, and now about my family. And I been so good at hiding the truth, and displaying perfect confidence before, but being here in the real world, suddenly I felt like I couldn't maintain the façade. And it didn't seem like he wanted to try either. He walked over to me, took one finger, and dragged it slowly down my exposed arm.

“Are you scared?”

I gulped. “Should I be?”

“Maybe. I've never done this before, either.” He moved away. “Typically, I travel alone, and for business. I don't know the last time I took a vacation. And I don't know that I've ever taken a vacation with someone else.”

“Not even your family?”

He looked back out over the tarmac where the lights are just starting to come on in the night. “I don't have one of those. Definitely not like yours anyway.”

“Every family is different. It doesn't make them good or bad, just the way they are.” My family had their fair share of issues, but when my dad got remarried, his new wife was pretty awesome. She really took care of my younger brother, and I visited them pretty often. She was the one who had booked the Bahamas trip, claiming that a good old family vacation would really bring us together. That was when they got married. It was the last time I'd been anywhere. And even after they got married and became their own little unit, they tried to help me. But I was my mother’s daughter, a bit of a mess, and couldn’t accept their help. I felt the need to do it on my own. And, somehow, how I ended up here. Getting on a private plane with a millionaire. Unbelievable.

He smiled. “You’re right. I guess they are.”

“So, where are yours?”

He sat down in a leather chair near the window. “My father is a business man, my mother a trophy wife. They live in a brownstone in New York with my younger sister.”

“Do you see them often?”

He shook his head. “It’s been five years since I’ve made it home for Christmas.”

I sighed. He had demons. We all did. Ostracizing his family certainly wasn’t going to help, but it wasn’t my place to say. It was my place to make sure he had a fabulous evening. Time to lighten the mood.

“So, what is the deal? We’re going to France for dinner?”

He looked me up and down. “The deal is, you asked for dinner, so I’m giving that to you. I love French cuisine, and I thought you might enjoy it, too.”

“I’d be willing to try it.”

Suddenly, there was a rap at the door. The TSA liaison entered again. “Your plane is ready for takeoff. I’ve brought someone to take your bags.”

Hudson nodded. “Thank you.”

We boarded the small plane, and took our seats. A stewardess offered us drinks while we waited to get off the tarmac. I was still in shock that I was on a plane. On a plane with a man I hardly knew.

“Thank you for the drinks, but I would prefer to be alone with my date.” Hudson spoke pointedly to the stewardess.

He wasn’t cold to her, just professional. Not at all like he treated me. He was different with me, relaxed, or at least less standoffish than he was to other people. I still couldn’t help but wonder, why me?

She nodded and kept her head down as she left the cabin. I sat on the edge of my seat, a white leather recliner, and sipped on a bottle of water. I was nervous, so much that it showed.

“You’re not comfortable. How can we rectify that?”

I tried to play it off, like he wasn't right, even though we both knew that he was. “I'm fine, really. I just haven't flown in a while, makes me a little nervous.”

“I can give you a little something to take the edge off. I mean, I figured we would sleep through most of the flight anyway.”

Sleep? Like I was going to get any of that. Maybe I should take him up on his offer, so that by the time we arrived in France in the morning, I would be bright eyed instead of a zombie like I was planning. “Will you be taking something?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you do or not. I’m certainly not going to make you sit here all by yourself for an eight-hour flight. Not when we can both stay up and,” he paused. “Talk.”

I smiled. “Talk. Is that all you want to do?”

“We said no strings. I'm fine with that. If all I get out of this weekend is dinner, then that's all I get.”

Somehow, I didn't believe that that's all he was going to get. Hudson just didn't seem like the type of guy who only took a woman to dinner. He was in it for more. Deep inside me, I wanted him to be.

“Well, actually, I could definitely use some sleep. And eight hours is an awfully long time.”

He stood up, and offered me his hand. I kept my water, but obliged. He walked me towards the back of the cabin, and pulled a curtain back to reveal a first-class recliner that laid out into bed. “Then you stay back here, and I'll be in the front if you need anything.”

I sat down in the chair, and set my head back to rest. I was about to take my final sip of water when I opened my eyes, and saw his hand in front of me. There was a little white pill in the middle. “Just a little something for the nerves. I promise it’s legal.”

I took the pill from his hands, and under his watchful eyes, I put it in my mouth, and pushed it down with the water. I watched him walk away in his black suit, and then everything seemed to go fuzzy and dark.

“
M
iss
. Miss, we've arrived. Mr. James is ready to depart.”

The stewardess shook me awake. I could hardly remember where I was; it was the best sleep I've ever had in my life. Visions of Hudson swirled around in my head, but besides that, it had been a dreamless sleep. I tried to figure out what he'd given me, but, somehow, it didn't matter. “I'm sorry. Where are we?”

The stewardess smiled kindly. “We’re in the South of France. You'll be headed to Mr. James’s chalet shortly. He's already left on a quick business meeting, and then he'll meet you there.”

I shook my head trying to clear it. “He left me on a plane?”

She pursed her lips. “Kind of. I've been flying with Mr. James for quite some time, and this is the first time he's ever had another traveler with him. I don't think he really knows the etiquette.”

She extended her hand, and helped me out of the chair. I rubbed my eyes, and I could hardly imagine what my hair looked like. I asked for a mirror, and she brought it to me. Just as I expected: total bed head. “Is there any way I can get my brush? Something to freshen up?”

She looked a little distraught. “I'm sorry, Miss, but all of your belongings are already in the town car waiting for you on the tarmac. You'll have plenty of time to get ready at the chalet before Mr. James joins you.”

Joins me. Cool, so I’m in the South of France by myself. I wasn't sure I liked being Hudson's call girl anymore. I was just another one of his belongings.

“Thank you so much. I guess I'll be going.”

I followed her to the steps, and then I walked down them by myself. There was a chauffeur with a black town car waiting for me, and after I was inside, I felt like I could breathe for the first time since being whisked away. I was alone with my thoughts; it was just what I needed. I sent a quick text to Alexis, telling her that I landed. I knew the fee would be astronomical, but somehow, money didn't seem to be a concern right now. I placed my hand on the leather seat, and moved it back and forth over the smooth fabric. I'd never been in a town car this nice before, not even at the club.

I put down the window, and took a whiff of the salty air as we passed by the ocean. I wanted to ask the driver to stop so I could go walk on the beach, but I knew that I had a job to do, so I continued on our drive to Hudson’s chalet. We drove for over half an hour up and down cobbled streets until we reached the top of the hill at the end of a windy lane. Finally, I saw a small cottage. Not ostentatious like I thought it would be. There was a curved door and beautiful roses on either side. The garden was overgrown, but in a planned way that led you to believe you were in some sort of fairytale. Hudson had made it this way; he wanted me to feel like a princess.

The driver let me out, and then carried my bags up to the door. I didn't know whether to knock or to just walk in; after all, I was still a guest. But, just as I raised my hand to the old wooden door, it magically opened on its own, and there stood a statuesque-looking butler in a tux. It was like a dream.

“Miss Hart, I presume?”

“Yes, that's me.”

“I'm glad to see that you've arrived safely. And this is your luggage?”

I looked at the Louis Vuitton behind me. “It's mine.”

“Wonderful. Mr. James will be pleased to hear that you've arrived. I will phone him at once.”

I nodded. “Do you know when he'll be back?”

“I'm afraid not for a few hours. He had some important matters to discuss with a client.”

So he wasn't just taking me to dinner; this was a business trip. It was probably already planned when he decided that he was going to take me along. So much for a vacation.

The butler stepped to the side, and extended his hand. I stepped up into the main foyer. The floor was tiled with deep blue and white inlay, and the walls were all a creamy color, like vanilla. It was breathtaking; I looked to the middle of the room where a spiral staircase ascended into, what I could only assume was, the second story. “This is like something out of a magazine! And Mr. James live here?”

The butler shook his head. “No, this is one of his three vacation homes. He always stays here when he does business in France, but typically at this time of year, we’re in the New York or Boston office.”

“So, you travel with him, then?”

“Yes, Miss, I've been with Mr. James since he was a boy.”

“Maybe you can tell me some things about him. He doesn't seem to like to talk about himself very much.”

“I'm afraid that's not my place, Miss. Now, if you'll follow me, I’ll take you to your bedroom, and I'll send some tea up while you get ready for your dinner this evening. Mr. James has left a dress for you in the closet.”

“He picked out my clothes?”

He started to walk up the stairs with my bags, and I followed him. “Of course. How would you know how to dress in a place you've never been? I’m sure the dress will be to your liking.”

As I looked at the art on the walls, I had to think that he was probably right. Beautiful impressionist images filled the hallway. I figured they were probably the inspiration for the home.

We entered a bedroom that was no bigger than mine at home, but it had French doors that opened up to a balcony that overlooked the ocean. The doors were already opened, and the curtains were blowing in the breeze. I could smell the salt air wafting in. There was a large canopy bed in the middle of the room with netting hanging on all sides. They were tied back for the day, but I wondered if I would need them at night. The butler set down my luggage, nodded, and then left.

I opened up the wardrobe that was next to the French doors as soon as I was sure he was gone. In it was a single dress; a halter top with white liquid beads the whole way down the front, but practically backless. It was heavy as hell, but it was absolutely stunning. The butler had been right about Mr. James's taste.

I looked around the room again. It was magnificent, but I was still alone. Hudson had left me here. He had treated me like property, and I hated him for it. All I wanted was for him to treat me like someone he cared about. But somehow, I knew that wasn’t the arrangement, and I told myself I’d have to suck it up.

As long as he didn’t do it again.

I
'd been getting
ready for hours when I heard the butler announce Hudson’s arrival. I sat on the edge of the bed with my hair pulled back around the nape of my neck, and I waited for him to call for me or send someone. But he didn't. Finally, I got brave enough to go downstairs on my own.

He stood in the middle of the foyer, with his hands crossed in front of him and a single white rose. Of course, it matched my dress. He had on a full tuxedo, and I tried to breathe as I took my steps carefully to the stairs.

But, as he stood there, I realized why I was coming down on my own. Hudson liked a grand entrance, and me walking down the stairs with the light shining off of every bead on my body gave him exactly that. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, he walked over to me and extended his arm, whispering in my ear, “You look exactly like I thought you would.”

I looked at him. “What does that mean?”

“Breathtaking.”

And just like that, I was speechless.

Hudson held the door open for me as he entered the town car, and we drove in silence until we reached the restaurant, overlooking the ocean. It was enclosed in glass, so the evening air didn't bother us. The view was practically unimaginable, with the waves crashing below. I had never seen anything like it. But, just as I was falling into my own mind, Hudson brought me right back out.

“So, what do you think of the weather?”

I smiled at him. “You're going asking about the weather? Really?”

“I thought I got to ask you anything I wanted.”

“I mean you just took me halfway around the world to this beautiful place, and you want to talk about the weather. You’re a mystery to me.”

“I feel the same way about you.”

“So, what about this being a vacation?” I asked, as I placed a white napkin on my lap, and the waiter poured me a glass of red wine.

He squinted at me. “What do you mean?”

“At the airport, we discussed how this is a vacation. I thought that implied no business.”

“Then, what is it that we’re doing? You and me… This is business.”

I chewed on my lower lip. I hated to think that the only reason I was here was because Hudson wanted to do business with me. It made my stomach turn. It made me irrationally angry, and I couldn’t figure out why.

“But you never mentioned any business before we got on the flight. What changed?”

“Well, while you were peacefully sleeping in the back, I got a call from a client that he needed to crunch some numbers. I thought that, since we were in the area, it wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, I'm not sure you get to demand things of this trip.”

“I'm sorry? I never asked for a trip. I requested dinner, which you agreed to.”

He looked at me. “And here we are at dinner.”

As always, I was allowing Hudson to get under my skin. There was just something about him; he was like an itch I couldn't scratch. And he drove me crazy.

“Why do I bother you so much?”

I scowled at him. “I don't know, because you're pompous and arrogant? And because you think you own everything, including women.”

The shock was written all over his face. “You're honest.”

“And you’re rude. You think that money can make anything possible.”

Now, he was starting to raise his voice. An older French couple behind him had stopped talking. “Money can fix everything. It makes things better, makes it so you don't have to feel anything about anyone. I can buy your time, and when we get back to the states, I can never talk to you again, and money does that for me.”

“And why is that so horrible? Why is dating a girl properly, spending time with her, and being friendly so difficult for you?”

“There are just some things you don't understand.”

“Then help me to. You bring me here, and you don't even wait for me to get off the plane before you’re gone. I'm in a new place that I've never been before, I'm terrified of what might happen, and you don't care.”

I thought he would get up and walk away. But he just sat there, dumbfounded, like no one had ever spoken to him like this in his entire life.

“So, I don't know how to treat people well. Is there anything else?”

I folded my hands in my lap, and looked down at the beautiful satin napkin that was lying there. “I'm sorry. This is all a little overwhelming for me, and I shouldn't have said that. I just didn't expect you to leave. I didn’t really expect any of this.”

He shook his head. “No one has ever asked me to stay.”

He reached for his wine glass. I put my hand on his, and stopped him. “I'm asking you to. Does that mean anything?”

He left his hand there beneath mine, the heat growing between them. “It means more than you know.”

I pulled my hand away, and set my lips into a thin smile. “Well, then, I guess you should order. For the both of us, because I have no idea what anything on this menu is.”

He smiled, and it lightened the mood. He called the waiter over, and ordered a something I couldn't pronounce, but sounded delicious. Something with fish, and I liked seafood.

“Why France? If you really didn’t have this planned as a business trip, then why did we come to France?”

He took a sip from his wine glass before speaking. “I love France. The cuisine is amazing, and it's beautiful. And I've been told it's romantic. But I wouldn't really know anything about that.”

“I saw the beach on my way to your home; it's amazing. I'd love to see it again before we go back.”

He shook his head. “You know, I have never been to the beach here.”

“Really? Then I think we need to fix that.”

He raised his glass. “Agreed.”

“You know, I really am sorry for what I said earlier. It’s not my place.”

“But you were right. I don’t treat people like people. I’ve never had to. I spend most of my time alone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have anyone to spend time with. No one of importance, at least. And I decided a long time ago to stop spending time with people who weren’t important.”

“Any reason why?”

He shook his head. “That’s a story for another night.”

Our conversation remained on frivolous topics the rest of the dinner. We discussed our trip to the beach. He asked me multiple times which one I wanted to go to, and if I wanted to go at night or during the day. He was actually interested in what I wanted. My outburst from earlier had done some good.

As we left the restaurant, he offered me his arm to escort me to the town car, and I realized I didn't want to go back yet. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I was on a real date, like something out of the movies.

“I don't want to go back yet.”

“Aren’t you exhausted? I mean, I know you slept on the plane…”

“It doesn't matter.” I took off my shoes, and held them by the straps while I started to walk down the cold cobblestone street towards the beach. “You promised.”

He started to chase after me, but I could hardly run in the heavy gown, and even after I pulled it up above my knees, it still dragged in the back.

“Let me take those for you.” He offered his hands to my shoes after we slowed down.

“Oh that's very nice of you. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

He shook his head. “I don't think I've ever been to a beach at night.”

“No, I mean offered to do something for someone else just because it was a nice thing to do.”

He stopped in the middle of the street. “Do you ever just let things happen?”

I turned around. “Not really.”

“Why are you always analyzing me?”

“That's part of what I do. I'm just trying to figure out who you are.”

“Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because there's something here. There’s something between us, and I just have to figure it out. Because as much as you infuriate me sometimes, all I want you to do is kiss me.”

There was something about the wine that had made me incredibly honest.

I turned around, and walked to the beach, while he stayed several feet behind me. When my toes reached the sand, it was cold and squishy under my feet, so I held my dress up so it wouldn’t get dirty. Right before I reached the water, Hudson came up behind me and ran his fingers along my neck.

He whispered in my ear, “We agreed, no strings attached. You’re not playing by the rules.”

I turned around. “I don't feel like that’s an option anymore.” I wanted him to kiss me so desperately it hurt. Hudson made me feel crazy, and it was intoxicating.

He dropped my shoes in the sand, and they landed with a thud. “I want to watch you swim.”

“But I don't…” He reached his arms behind me, and undid the clasp that held my halter together. Slowly, he pulled down the fabric in front of me. I felt my exposed breasts meet the night air, and goose bumps broke out on my skin. He kissed the side of my neck, and allowed the dress to drop the rest of the way down into the sand. I was left with nothing, but a pair of nude underwear.

“Are you happy with your purchase?”

“You have no idea.”

I backed away from him, and walked into the icy water. All that I could see was his dark shadowy frame on the beach when I turned around again.

“Why don’t you join me?” I called.

“That's not the arrangement.”

“I'm making a new one.”

I walked back out of the water, put my hands around his chiseled face, and I pulled him into my lips. It felt like fire was running through my veins.

Hudson James had bought me. But what he didn't realize was, I owned him.