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Instead of waiting to find out, I announced that I had a few errands to run. They weren’t pressing, but after his declaration, the office felt stifling.

I stepped out into the summer heat and pulled my sunglasses on. Since I’d left spur of the moment, I didn’t have a chance to call Jordan for a ride. The stops I wanted to make were nearby anyway. I could walk everywhere I planned to go. Besides, it was a beautiful day and it was nice to be out in the fresh air.

I didn’t notice my follower until I’d nearly reached the first place I needed to go—a graphics shop a few blocks away from Columbus Circle. Perhaps I’d been too preoccupied with thoughts of David and the club. And Hudson—always Hudson. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have spotted her earlier. When I finally did notice her, I knew immediately it wasn’t a coincidence that she was walking down Eighth Avenue at the same time I was. I also knew that she meant to be seen. I was an experienced stalker, after all. With a little effort, it’s not that hard to remain unnoticed.

Celia wasn’t trying to remain hidden at all.

She stopped when I stopped. Started again when I started. All the time her eyes were pinned directly on me. My heart beat furiously, but I remained cool, keeping an even pace to my steps. When I went into the graphics shop, she thankfully didn’t follow. But she took her place outside the front window so that I could see she was there.

Celia hadn’t exactly done anything to me, hadn’t spoken to me, but her presence wrapped me in a blanket of fear. I knew without a doubt she was making a statement—I’m here. I see you. You can’t escape me. Was this what Paul Kresh had felt when I’d followed him around for weeks at a time? It was an awful feeling and the regret for my past actions had never been so heavy.

There was a line at the counter, so I was able to take a few minutes to collect myself before my turn at the cashier. My thoughts raced to Celia’s motive. Maybe she wanted to talk to me. But she could text or email. And if she’d wanted to talk, why hadn’t she approached me?

No, she had a different intent with her stalking. First on the boat, now here—would she ever leave me alone? Was this another trick that she meant to somehow turn back on me later? Or did she simply mean to scare me?

If scare was the goal, she’d achieved it. But unlike the last time she’d screwed me over, I was prepared. Now she didn’t have my trust. After I texted Jordan telling him where I was and asking him to meet me, I used my phone to click a picture of her—I wanted proof. She saw me take the picture, I was certain, but she didn’t leave or seem concerned. Next, I called Hudson’s office.

“He’s in a meeting,” Trish, his secretary, informed me. “I’ll have him call you as soon as he’s finished.”

That wasn’t good enough. I knew he’d want me to interrupt him for this, but Trish would never do it herself. Hoping he’d check his cell phone, I shot him a text. I’m on my way to your office. I need to see you.

I was calmer when it was my turn at the cashier. I collected the table cards I had ordered, took a deep breath, and headed out of the store. I was terrified to walk out with Celia so near the entrance, but I wouldn’t let her see that. Thankfully, just as I put my hand on the door to push it open, Jordan pulled up. Celia took off at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. If all it took to send her away was Jordan, I’d never go anywhere without him again.

I slid in the car before Jordan had a chance to get out and open the door for me. “Up ahead, on the sidewalk,” I said pointing toward Celia’s back. “Do you see her?” She was walking fast and I wanted someone else to see her before she disappeared in the New York City crowds.

Jordan was quick with a good eye. “I see her. Was she following you?” He didn’t seem to be surprised.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I spotted her this morning when I dropped you off at the club, but I wasn’t certain it was her. We need to tell Mr. Pierce.”

“I plan to right now. Can you take me to his office?”

He answered with a nod.

I sat back and buckled my seatbelt as he pulled out into traffic. Celia was still in sight and I watched her as we drove closer. She stopped walking when we passed, and even though she couldn’t see me through the tinted windows, she smiled and waved.

It was a good thing I was a pacifist, because otherwise I’d have started planning her murder.

Chapter Six

Hudson hadn’t responded to my text by the time I’d arrived in the lobby, so I sent another. I’m getting in the elevator. I’ll be in your office in 2.

I still hadn’t received a reply when I stepped onto his floor, but I breezed by Trish as if Hudson were always available for me.

From the way he usually talked, he was always available for me.

“Excuse me,” Trish called after me. “Mr. Pierce is still with his appointment—”

“He knows I’m coming,” I called over my shoulder.

The door opened before I even touched the handle. Hudson stood there, concern etched on his brow. “It’s okay, Patricia.” He ushered me in.

As soon as the door shut behind me, he cupped his hands around my face and searched my eyes. “I got your text. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“No, not hurt.” I was shaking, and now that I was with Hudson, I wanted to cry.

“Alayna, what is it?”

I pulled my phone out and began to cue Celia’s picture. “I need to show you something. Can I—”

A rustle behind us caught my attention. I peered around Hudson and saw a woman standing by his desk. Her auburn hair was tied loosely at her nape, the color accentuated by the pale cream of her suit.

My back straightened, warning bells sounding in my head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone.”

Hudson put a hand at my back and gestured toward his guest. “Alayna, you remember Norma.”

“Yeah, I do. Norma Anders. We met at the Botanic Gardens event.” The same knot of jealousy I’d felt at meeting her formed now. Or rather, her presence tightened the knot that had been in my belly for the past half hour.

Norma had an obvious interest in Hudson. It bothered me. She worked with him daily, touched him casually, used his first name—he rarely let people use his first name, particularly not his employees. And here she was alone with him in his office midday. And he had ignored my texts.

“We did meet then.” Norma looked me over, sizing me up. When we’d met before, she’d barely given me a second glance. She’d been too focused on my man. “It’s good to see you again, Alayna.” Her terse tone said otherwise.

She delivered her next line to Hudson. “If you two need to talk alone, we can step out.”

We? My eyes traveled the room and I noticed another woman sitting in the other armchair facing Hudson’s desk.

Ah, he wasn’t alone with Norma. A wave of relief ran through me, followed by a wave of guilt. I was being ridiculous and paranoid. The events of the day had me off balance. Hudson was simply meeting with two of his employees. No midday trysts. Nothing inappropriate at all.

Still, the knot persisted. I was eager to talk to Hudson about Celia, but it would have to wait. I stuffed my phone back in my bra. “No, no. I apologize for bursting in. It’s not like me to interrupt.”

Hudson scooted past me toward his desk. “Actually, Alayna, this is perfect timing.” He nodded to the woman still sitting and she stood. “This is Norma’s sister, Gwen. She’s one of the managers at Eighty-Eighth Floor.”

“Oh.” Not an employee after all. The Eighty-Eighth Floor was a popular nightclub in The Village owned by a rival businessman.