Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“No!” Rosina, one of the owners, slaps the hand of the young server who just set a bowl of butter packets on the table. “Take it away.”
“It’s okay, Rosina,” Hudson says.
“We make fresh butter for you, Mr. McClain.”
“Hudson.”
He has his own table in the place. It’s a secluded one, a curtain available to close if he wants privacy. The walls in the nook that houses the table are covered with framed news articles about Hudson and the Crush.
Once Rosina is done fussing over giving him everything exactly the way he likes it, he flashes me a smile. “Who needs a wife? I’ve got a nonna taking care of me.”
He’s been divorced for years, and he seems genuinely happy single. He’s only forty-five and he likes being able to do what he wants whenever he wants to.
“So, how’s life?” I ask him, taking a sip of the red wine Rosina poured me.
“Can’t complain. Lost my ass in a real estate deal, then made it up in a good stock trade.”
“How much is your ass when you’re a billionaire?”
He shrugs. “Three million. Part of my ass, I suppose.”
Rosina brings us some freshly baked bread and two dishes with fresh, whipped butter, then closes the curtain as she leaves.
“How about you?” Hudson asks. “You were a dick when I saw you the other day, but that’s nothing new.”
He’s my boss, but also my friend. There’s no team owner I’d rather work for than him.
“You know how it goes.”
He sits back in his seat, gently swirling the wine in his glass. “I know there’s something on your mind, Noel. You don’t ask me to have dinner unless it’s something serious.”
I nod, deciding to just come out with it. “I’ve been seeing our social media coordinator.”
His brows fly up. “Jules?”
“Yeah.”
“How in the fuck did you pull that off?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What, like I’m so bad?”
“No, you’re, you know ... but she’s ...”
“Anyway,” I say, aggravated. “We’d been seeing each other for around two months until a couple weeks ago.”
“Does Deb know?”
“No. I’d never tell Deb before you.”
“Does anyone know?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He grins. “Good for you, man. But what happened two weeks ago? Did you fuck it up?”
I glare at him. “We had a disagreement.”
“So why are you telling me?”
“I just wanted a friend’s perspective, I guess.”
He sets his wineglass down. “Give me all the info. What was the disagreement about?”
“She thinks I don’t want anyone to know about us because I’m embarrassed by her. By her age.”
Hudson shrugs. “Probably more embarrassed by your age, though, right? She’s young and vibrant and you’re—”
I cut him off, pinching the bridge of my nose. “No. The age difference is there; there’s nothing we can do about it. I guess I want to make sure she won’t get in trouble if people find out.”
“Little late for that, don’t you think?”
“You fuckin—”
“I’m kidding. No, she won’t get in trouble. From what Deb has told me, she’s a rock star at her job. Workplace relationships happen. As long as it’s not going to get us sued, I don’t have a problem with it.”
“She doesn’t report to me.”
“Right. Seems fine.” He’s buttering a piece of bread meticulously, making sure every bit of the surface gets covered in butter. “Does she make you happy?”
“That’s an understatement. I know I’d take a lot of shit if people found out I was with someone so young, but if it’s that or be without her, I’ll take the embarrassment.”
“Fuck anyone who has a problem with it.”
“Yeah, I agree—unless it’s my kids.”
He laughs. “Your kids who saw your wife cheat on you with a contractor and leave you for him? Noel, you deserve to be happy. You’re a good man. If the woman who appreciates that is in her twenties, or thirties, or eighties, who cares? Life’s too short.”
I nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”
His expression turns serious. “Have I ever told you the last thing my father said to me when he was dying?”
“No.”
He sets down the bread, brushing the crumbs from his hands. “He could hardly talk anymore. The cancer had taken everything from him. But he worked so goddamn hard to get it out, because he was still in there. His eyes were the same, but his body was shutting down. He said one word to me. Live.”
I’ve never seen Hudson so emotional. He sniffs and straightens his shoulders.
“He told me to live, and I think about it all the time. None of us knows what tomorrow will bring, or if there will even be a tomorrow. So if she makes you happy, and you want to make her happy, hold on like hell and don’t let go.”
I nod, thinking of my own father. He’d love Jules. “I will. Thanks for sharing that with me.”
“You smell those meatballs?” He closes his eyes and breathes in the savory aroma. “When I die, this place is my idea of heaven.”