I snatched my laptop from his hands. “I’m dream vacation planning, not actually going.”

Though he didn’t quite smile, I could’ve sworn the corner of his lip twitched. Hudson pushed up the sleeve of his suit jacket, revealing a big, chunky watch. While I felt like punching the arrogant bastard for making me sit here for two days, I couldn’t help but notice how sexy the damn watch looked on his masculine wrist. Shaking my head, I tamped down that feeling.

“Two minutes,” Hudson said, folding his arms across his chest. “Go.”

For the next hundred-and-twenty seconds, I rambled on—telling him I wanted to know the real reason he’d decided to decline investing, because it couldn’t possibly be that he didn’t like the scent I’d created. I even told him it was the same one he’d told me twice that he liked—once at Olivia’s wedding and then again at his office when I’d come to pick up my cell phone. Then, for some insane reason, I started going into detail about the samples he’d rated and the chemicals I’d used… Somehow my diatribe morphed into a science lesson. I don’t think I took a breath or used any punctuation during the entire two minutes I speed-talked.

When I finally shut up, Hudson stared at me. “Are you finished?”

“I guess so.”

He gave a curt nod. “Have a good evening.” Then he turned and walked toward the door.

I blinked a few times, sure he couldn’t possibly be just leaving. But when he got to the door and pushed it open, it became apparent that was exactly what the jerk was doing. So I yelled after him. “Where are you going? I’ve been waiting for two days to have this conversation.”

With his hand on the door, he didn’t look back as he spoke. “You asked for two minutes. I gave them to you. The cleaning people will lock up after you leave.”

 

***

 

If any evening deserved wine, it was this one.

Fisher had worked late tonight, but he’d been the lucky recipient of my rant earlier while I angry-marched from Rothschild Investments to the subway station. So he knew what he was walking into when he let himself into my apartment.

“Honey, I’m home!”

He held a large bottle of merlot in one hand and a flower he’d definitely just ripped out of our neighboring building’s planter in the other—the bottom still had a root and dirt dangling.

I forced my sullen face to attempt a smile. “Hey.”

“I passed a mounted police officer whose horse didn’t have as long of a face as you do.” Fisher kissed me on the forehead and pointed to the flower. “What do you think? The red vase or the clear?”

I sighed overdramatically. “I think that thing needs dirt more than a vase.”

Fisher tapped my nose with his pointer finger. “The red one it is.” He went to the closet and took out a vase meant for a giant bouquet, not one sad flower, then filled it with water from the kitchen sink and stuck the stem in. “I think you should call Olivia.”

I drank the wine already in my glass. “I don’t want to bother her. And what’s the point? She told me herself that Hudson was in charge of the division. Plus, she’s already been so generous to me. I don’t want to make her feel bad.”

“I can’t believe that jerk asked you for your phone number and never called, then made you sit there for two days. This guy must get off on making you wait around for him. And here I had this gut feeling you two were going to wind up banging.”

I scoffed. “Me and Hudson? Are you crazy? The man obviously hates me.”

Fisher tugged at the knot of his tie as he walked to the couch where I sat wallowing.

“I watched you two together at the wedding. Even when he screwed with you and made you give that speech, there was a sparkle in his eye. There was real chemistry there.”

I finished off my wine. “Some chemistry leads to explosions. Trust me, I know.”

“But why ask you out and then never call?”

I shook my head. “To get even. Same reason he left me sitting in the lobby.”

For the next hour, Fisher and I drank wine. Because he was the bestest friend of all best friends, he let me repeat everything I’d told him on the phone earlier without complaining.

But the long day of sitting around and consuming too much alcohol eventually got to me, so when I yawned for a second time, he stood to go.

“I’ll let you get some rest. You have two days. Today was for being pissed off and drinking. Tomorrow is for wallowing. Thursday, we get back on the horse and figure out where to go from here. We’ll make this work.”

I didn’t want to be an even bigger downer and say I had no place left to go, except maybe the unemployment line. Fisher meant well. “Thanks for listening to me.”

“Anytime, my princess.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead before heading for the door. Grabbing his suit jacket from the kitchen, he said. “Almost forgot—you had mail in your box. You want it on the couch?”

“Nah. I’ll look at it tomorrow.”

He set it down on the kitchen counter. “Get some sleep, my Stella Bella.”

“Goodnight, Fisher.”

After he closed the door, I forced myself up and walked around my box-filled apartment, shutting off lights. In the kitchen, a thick manila envelope on the bottom of the mail pile caught my eye.

I know that logo...

But it can’t be…

Since I didn’t have my glasses on, I picked it up to eye it more closely.

Sure enough, the circle with the R entwined through it was exactly what I’d thought it was. What the hell would Rothschild Investments be sending me? Another go screw yourself letter? Maybe this time with an itemized bill for the food and drinks I’d had at Olivia’s wedding, along with an invoice for Hudson’s precious time?

I’d had enough torture for the day and probably should’ve just left it for the morning. But leaving well enough alone was never my forte. So I slipped my finger under the seal and sliced open the envelope. Inside was a cover letter written on the same letterhead as the one I’d received a few days ago. Underneath looked like a bunch of legal documents…Term Sheet, Investor’s Rights Agreement, Stock Purchase Agreement…

What the hell is all this?

Grabbing my glasses, I shuffled back to the cover letter to read.

 

Dear Ms. Bardot,

After careful reconsideration, Rothschild Investments is delighted to extend an offer of investment to your company, Signature Scent, LLC. The proposed structure, amounts, and terms can be found in the Term Sheet. Kindly go through the enclosed literature discussing the details of our proposal. As our offer affects the voting rights and your ownership stake within your company, we strongly suggest you have your attorney review all documentation prior to signing.

We are pleased to invite you to be part of the Rothschild Investments family and look forward to bringing your innovative product to market.

 

Sincerely yours,

Hudson Rothschild

 

Was this some sort of joke? Could what I had said during the two minutes he’d allotted me this afternoon have changed his mind, and he’d messengered over this letter? But how would a messenger have gotten into my locked mailbox?