Wasted (Dirty Boys of Chicago #1) (20 page)

“I try.”

I
spent
the rest of the afternoon splashing in the water, and enjoying the sun on my pale skin. Boston was so cold and damp this time of year, it was just nice to get a break from the miserable weather. There weren't a lot of people on the beach though, so no one really bothered us as we talked about my school, and a little bit more about his family. It was a nice break from the rest of the world, but I knew that we had to return soon. After I got dressed and we arrived back at the cottage, I went upstairs to take a shower. I had to get the feeling of sand out from between my toes. Hudson stayed downstairs, claiming that he had to make a couple business calls before he made plans for dinner. I knew that we would have to go back to the States that night, but I wasn't ready for our magical weekend to be over. I wanted to stay in France, in Hudson’s arms, forever.

I tiptoed downstairs, so I wouldn't bother him on the phone, and he didn't notice my presence until I pushed open the creaky door of his office. He was sitting with his back towards me looking out the front bay windows. He looked like he was really deep in thought. I walked over to him, and dragged my fingers along his exposed arm. I got close enough to whisper in his ear. “You made me shower alone. I would've liked the company.”

He looked over at me, and put his hand over mine on his arm. He didn't look as amused as I was hoping.

“What’s the matter?”

“I have some bad news.”

Bad news? So far it didn't seem like anything could go wrong on a perfect getaway. Why now, when things were winding down, did bad news have to come?

“I've been called to Germany on business. I won’t be able travel back to the states with you.” He was so cold in his delivery. Nothing like he treated me over the rest of the weekend.

“You mean, I'm going to have to travel back by myself?”

He nodded. “I'm very sorry, Calla. But my plane will still take you, and you won't have to worry about dealing with the airlines or anything. We’re not terribly far from the airport, as you already know, so the travel will be simple.”

He sounded so… professional. I wasn't sure how to react.

“Fine. And what do we do from here? Do you call me?”

He shrugged. “I'm not really sure. I have never brought a girl out of the club before.”

The way he treated me: brushing the hair out of my face, the gentle gestures… had all been in my head. This was definitely still a business arrangement to him, when to me it had been so much more.

“Wonderful. Well, I guess I will see you back in the States then. Maybe.” I turned on my heel and ascended the stairs, taking them two at a time. I wondered if he followed me, but I didn't turn around to find out. I couldn't let him see the tears streaming down my face.

I threw everything into my borrowed Louis Vuitton suitcases as fast as I possibly could. I wanted to get to the plane, and quickly. That was certainly an advantage of taking a private plane: it could leave whenever I wanted. And I wanted to go. Now. I dragged the bag down the stairs myself, in a dramatic way, making sure that it slammed down on every step as I went down. I felt like I was being kicked out. I wasn't enough for Hudson. I had known it all along, but being slapped in the face like this is still strong. When I arrived to the bottom of the steps, no one came to my aid. I could hear Hudson still in his study on the phone. He wasn’t even going to see me off. That was not how this was going to end. I wouldn't allow him to treat me this way.

I walked over to the door, and was just about to swing it open, when I heard what his conversation was about. “No, of course she doesn't suspect. She just thinks that this is a business arrangement. Exactly what it is.” He paused as if listening to someone else on the other end of line. “Of course. She's returning to the States this evening. I'm sure you can speak with her then. I think you were right all along. A young girl looking to cash in. I think she had a hand in it but I don’t think she worked alone.” He stopped speaking again. “No I don’t have any concrete evidence. I know you were hoping for more information, but I don't have any.” He paused one final time. “No, I doubt I'll be seeing her again. Our deal is done here. Your favor is cashed in, Drake. Don't call me again.”

The detective had called him? Was the only reason that I was here for some other type of business arrangement? Did Hudson even know how to live a normal life? I shook my head and considered just leaving, but the internal struggle was too real. I pushed open the door with both of my hands, and as it swung open, I saw him put his cell phone in his back pocket.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about? Or is it just another one of your secrets?”

There was panic written all over his face. “Calla, please. I promise it is not what you think it is.”

“Then tell me what it is! Tell me everything, Hudson, because I swear to God, I feel like I only know you in bits and pieces. And now you want to go behind my back to make a deal with the detective?”

“It's not like that.”

“Then what is it like? You know I had nothing to do with the judge’s death. You saw me in the club that night. Did I look like I was about ready to murder somebody?”

He rubbed his forehead with his hands. “No. The detective is an old friend of mine, and I owed him a favor. He asked me to get close to you, to see if you knew anything more. This case has gotten national headlines. They just want to make sure they're getting the right person.”

“You know that it wasn't me. Right?”

“I know it wasn't you.”

“So, then, why try to get information from me? Why not just ask me?”

“I didn’t think you’d tell me. But now I know better. You're so different from the other girls. None of them are honest and genuine like you are. It's what I like about you.”

“Really? Because that’s not what you’re showing. People who like other people don't talk about them behind their backs. And they certainly don’t accuse them of murder!”

I had wanted Hudson, something real. But our entire relationship was based on a lie. He had just wanted information.

“Why did you owe him a favor?”

“It has something to do with business.”

“And what business is that? I haven't learned anything about you since we've been here. What do you do for a living, Hudson?”

He chewed on his lower lip, something about wanting to answer me, but his secretive nature stopped him. “If I told you that, you'd be in a lot of trouble. I'm not going to tell you. I want to keep these days, Calla. I don't know what it is about you that makes me feel something, but something does. I need to protect you.”

“No, you don't. You need to stay the hell away from me. Do not come back to the club. Our arrangement is over.”

I grabbed my bags, and went out the front door. I told myself that if Hudson James ever came to me, I would turn him away. He wasn't hurt; he just couldn't be. Because, if he had been, he would have chased me down right then. But he didn’t. He just let me walk away.

I
rode
to the airport alone. I sent Alexis a text message as we left Hudson’s cottage.

I'm coming home. Alone. Don't ask.

I thought the driver would say something to me, about how he felt bad, or to have a nice trip, but he didn't. Just another reminder that everyone works for Hudson James; none of us were actually involved with him. He had even told me himself that he didn't have any real friends. Now, I understood why. I did a couple shots on the plane, so I would fall asleep quickly. I didn't want to think about him the whole flight back. About how my chest hurt, or how I felt like I couldn't breathe without him near me. There was something about him that had drawn me in so quickly, and made me want to be around him. But now that I knew how easily he could hurt me, and that it had all been fake, I couldn't imagine having fallen so quickly for him. When the flight landed, there was a car for me, but I told them I would find my own way home. I didn't need any more of Hudson's favors. I didn't want to feel like I owed him anything.

I dialed Alexis's number and asked her for help instead. “Hey, it's me.”

“Hey! How was the trip?”

“It was great, for a while. But now I just need some Jack, Coke, and Ben, & Jerry's. My three favorite men.”

“You still at the airport?”

“Yup. Bring the boys with you. I’m starting in the car.”

“Got it.”

She got to the airport about half an hour later, and she had a sports drink bottle and some chunky monkey with a plastic spoon. True best friend right there; doesn't ask questions, just does what she needs to. I didn't say anything on the ride home. Actually, I hardly remember getting up the steps, or into my apartment. But when I woke up the next morning, my bag was next my bed, and Alexis was sitting in a chair across the room.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Don't scream. It hurts my head.” Awesome. Just what I needed, a fucking hangover on top of a broken heart.

“Calla, you have to tell me what happened. There is some shit on the news about Hudson going away with some girl. And in the Entertainment section of the Boston Globe, your picture is everywhere.”

“My picture?”

She nodded. “Apparently, he's never taken a girl to his house in France before. You’ve become this international reality celebrity mystery.”

“Oh, shit.”

“You guys look really happy, though. How did it go downhill so fast?”

“Hell if I know. I thought we were having a great time, and then I find out that the only reason that he brought me there, was to ask me questions about the judge, and to see if I was actually telling the truth about that night. He played me, Alexis. He saw some poor girl that he thought he could use to get ahead with the district attorney. And he was so right.”

She came over, and sat on the edge of the bed. I could tell that she was trying not to let all of her weight go down at once, knowing it would make me puke. She rubbed my arms slowly. “I'm so sorry, Calla. I know how much you liked him. I could hear it in your voice as you were leaving. I can't believe he did this.”

“I can. He tried to warn me about what kind of guy he was, but I didn't want to hear it.” I slowly sat up because the room was spinning. “So, tell me what's all over the news?”

She sighed. “They're mostly just talking about this mystery girl with Hudson James in the South of France. So far, nobody knows your name. But you also might want to go out into the living room, and see what else is here.”

“Something’s here?”

“Yeah. You should just go look.”

I pushed myself out of bed with my arms, and shuffled over to my door. The room wasn’t very large, but by the time my hand reached the handle, I felt like I'd run a marathon. Hello Jack and Coke, you treat me well the night of, but the next morning you’re a killer. I slowly opened the door, slightly afraid of what might be waiting for me. But I was met with a view of absolute beauty.

The entire apartment was filled with white flowers.

All types of flowers: roses, daisies, Calla lilies. There were potted plants, hanging plants, and bouquets. The entire flower shop must've been cleared out to get them here. “What the hell?”

Alexis came up behind me. “They're all from him. Every single one. Four different flower shops have been here so far this morning, and, considering he hasn't filled up your room yet, I would say there's probably at least another one on it’s way.”

I reached into a bouquet of roses, and pulled out the card that was attached. In print it said:

I'm sorry. Hudson

I turned around, and on a potted plant of tulips, there was another card with a similar message.

Forgive me. Hudson

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see all of this, Alexis. I don't want to hear his excuses and his lies. Because that's all he really is, a damn liar.” I dropped the cards on the floor, turned around, and walked back into my room. I fell back onto the bed, and let the pillows absorb my sobs.

W
hen I emerged
from my room later that afternoon, Alexis had taken care of most of the flowers. There were definitely still some in the apartment, but I was shocked to see how many were missing.

She turned around and looked at me from the couch. “I called a local nursing home, and they offered to come pick them up. At least some old bitties are enjoying your flowers, even if you're not.”

I walked to the kitchen to make myself some PBJ. “What's that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “I don't know, Calla. Why would he send all those flowers? Do you think you should just give him another chance? I mean it's not like he really set you up.”

I screwed the lid back on the peanut butter. “We don't know that. And, after I totally thought I was in the clear and I wasn't going to have to testify, now he's talking to the detective on the case. I'm probably going to have to be involved even after Monique tried so hard to get me out of it. I just can't trust him. And that’s entirely his fault.”

She shook her head, but was silent.

“What?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Alexis, I know you. Just because you're not saying anything doesn't mean you’re not thinking something.”

“I'm just thinking that you kind of have trust issues to begin with. Maybe Hudson isn't such a bad guy, but you're not willing to give him a fair chance.”

I took a bite out of my sandwich. “Did you hear what I just said? I'm probably back involved with the case. A murder trial, Alexis. He did that, not me.”

She nodded. “Fine. But if it turns out that he was a good guy, I'm going to tell you I told you so.”

I took another bite of my sandwich. “Fine.”

T
he next day
, I trudged to my physics class, first thing on a Monday morning. It sucked. I had a shift at the library later that day though, so at least I would get all my homework done before I had to go home that night. It would give Alexis and I a chance to just hang out; she hadn't really spoken to me since our discussion the day before. Deep down I knew she was right; I did have trust issues, thanks Mom. But, at the same time, I felt like she didn't understand what had really happened. Hudson had treated me like I was someone special, and that had blown up in my face. I hadn't done anything to deserve the way that he treated me. But another part of me knew that I just needed to accept that. Because I was a call girl, and that's just what we did.

I sat in physics class, taking notes on my laptop, when an e-mail came in.

I need to see you.- H

How did he even get my e-mail? He certainly didn't have my phone number. Come to think of it, I didn't know how he found my apartment either. He probably had his detective friend look me up. Just another favor. The professor was droning on and on about acceleration, so I decided to send him an e-mail back. I chewed on a pen while I thought of something meaningful to say.

That's not possible.

I pressed send and didn't expect a response, but just a couple minutes later, I had another new e-mail.

Did you get the flowers?

I typed back,
yes.

But you still don't accept my apology?

You can’t apologize for who you are. I expected too much.

No, you expect exactly what you should.

I sighed and closed my laptop, even though there was still twenty minutes left of class. I just couldn't focus anymore, and I didn't know what to say back to him. He clearly didn't understand what it meant to hurt someone the way that he had hurt me. As soon as the professor dismissed us, I grabbed my things, and was the first one out the door. I ran through the campus to get to the library on time.

I logged in and went up to the second floor to find a quiet place to work. I had the library pager; if someone needed help, I would get a buzz. I opened my physics book, and realized I still had no idea what I was doing. Apparently, I should have listened during the acceleration speech. I looked at my phone instead of opening my notes on my laptop. I didn’t want to give myself the opportunity to check my email. Alexis had texted me.

When are you coming home?

My shift ends at six.

You are right about Hudson. Cops were here. You're getting a subpoena.

Shit.

I couldn’t focus during the rest of the shift, and hardly got any work done. I rushed home to find out everything Alexis knew. She was eating some dinner and sitting on the couch watching reality TV. But as soon as I walked in, she shut it off. “I'm so sorry. You were totally right about Hudson. The cops came here and were looking for you; they had a warrant. They went through stuff in your room.”

Luckily, I knew there was nothing that could incriminate me. I mean I had nothing to do with the judge's death. How could anyone think that I would do something like that?

“They were in my room?” Regardless of the fact that I knew they wouldn’t find anything, I still felt violated.

She just nodded. “I'm so sorry, Calla. What are you going to do?”

I thought about Monique's business card sitting in my bedside table. I wondered if they had taken it. I walked into my room, expecting a mess, and found it in the same condition that I left it. It didn't look like they'd gone through anything. I opened the drawer, and looked inside the journal that I'd been keeping the business card and my cash in. It was still there, right in the front. “I guess I call my lawyer.”

Alexis chewed on her lower lip while standing in the doorway. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don't really know. But I sure as hell hope Monique has some sort of plan.”

Alexis sat on the edge of my bed as I dialed Monique's number. She wasn't trying to be nosey, she was there for support. I sighed as I sat down next to her.

“I heard you're getting a subpoena.”

I closed my eyes. “I figured someone would've told you. What the hell? I thought I was in the clear!”

She paused and then said, “Somebody tipped them off. There's definitely some shady shit going on here. But you're expected to be in court on Wednesday morning.”

“But I haven't even received the paperwork yet. And how am I supposed to get out of class?”

“Hopefully, it'll only be one day. And I wouldn't tell your professors unless you want to say that you're sick. You don't want them or the college sniffing around, too.”

She was right about that.

“So, what do we do now? What's the game plan?”

“I have a prior commitment that I can't get out of today, but we’ll meet tomorrow night before you give your statement, and we’ll go over what you're going to say. Hopefully, it won't be that big of a deal.”

She and I both knew that she was lying. “What about the media? How do I avoid all the questions about why I was with the judge that night?”

“I can't really answer that. But you know the rules. Try to find a way around it, or you'll be in a lot worse trouble than you are right now.”

The rules.

Boston Buyer’s Club Rule #1

Never talk about the club.

“Understood.”

“Perfect. Dress in something professional, but show a little leg on Wednesday. I’ll meet you outside the courthouse. Tomorrow, show up at the club at six o’clock. The Madame and I will go over your statement with you then.”

And then she hung up. The color drained from my face. There was no real plan. I was fucked.

Alexis looked at me, eager for information. “So what did she say? What's your plan of attack?”

I shrugged because I still wasn't really sure. “I don't really know that she has one. Alexis, I think I'm totally screwed.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, go into my closet and find something professional for me to wear to court on Wednesday. And Monique said I should show a little leg.”

She laughed. “That girl, she's always trying to get it in. No matter where she is.”

I smiled for what felt like the first time in days. “Yeah, she's definitely got that badass, superhot, confident woman thing down.”

Alexis looked back at me from across the room as she walked into my closet. “So do you, Calla. You can beat this, I’m sure of it.”

I was just glad that one of us was.