“And?” Allie braced herself. There was no telling what Miss Good Intentions said to him. Allie knew she meant well, but sometimes Harper spoke before she thought.
“And I told him he would probably know better than I would since he works with you now, not me.”
That wasn’t so bad. Could have been a lot worse, actually.
“But he said he wanted to know how you were doing when you weren’t at the office in Terminator mode.”
Allie raised a brow.
“Okay, maybe those weren’t his exact words. But it wasn’t how he asked that killed me. It was the look in his eyes. Honestly, the man is hurting.”
Allie sat quietly for a moment as Harper’s words settled over her. Then in a hushed voice, she asked, “What did you tell him?”
Harper took a deep breath before letting the words tumble out of her mouth in a rush. “I told him that you’ve been just as miserable as he looked and that he shouldn’t give up on you, because one of these days you might stop being so stubborn and actually forgive him and get on with your lives.”
There it was. “You did not.”
“I most certainly did. Not that it makes much difference. You’ve told him to leave you alone so many times that now he’s actually doing it.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Pretty much.”
Hudson was letting her go. Unexpected tears stung her eyes at the thought.
“You’ve lost a lot these past few weeks, but Hudson doesn’t have to be part of that list. Can’t you give him another chance?”
A hot tear slipped down Allie’s cheek. She swiped it away with the back of her hand but didn’t answer.
“He tried to make it right. He went to see your dad after your weekend in Wisconsin.”
Allie finally opened her mouth to speak but Harper was on a roll.
“And don’t bother saying it was just some attempt to make a hostile takeover less hostile. From what you’ve told me Hudson went to great lengths to gain control of Ingram, all those shell companies and the other crap I can’t even begin to understand. Do you really think he would have backed off even an inch when he was about to close the deal? Someone like Hudson Chase didn’t get where he is today by giving things away. Have you stopped to ask yourself why he really did it?”
“What do you mean?”
Harper shook her head. “For someone with all the fancy degrees, you sure are dense sometimes. He did it for you, Alessandra. He was trying to fix the situation because of his feelings for you.”
Was Harper right? Did he do it for her? Was Hudson really willing to compromise the deal he’d spent months strategizing? Their time at the lake that weekend had felt different; they’d made a connection. Or at least Allie thought they had. And when she’d returned, she’d known she had to end things with Julian, that she wanted a future with Hudson. Had he felt the same way? Surely he’d known everything would blow up when the truth came out that he was the one behind the takeover at Ingram. Was he trying to undo what damage he could by brokering a deal with her dad because . . . he wanted a future with her?
Questions ricocheted in Allie’s mind, questions neither she nor Harper could answer. But one person could. She glanced at her watch. It was almost six o’clock. “He’s probably still at the office,” she said, not even realizing she’d spoken the words out loud.
“So what are you waiting for?” Harper asked. The gleam in her eye told Allie she was already one step ahead of her.
Allie slugged down the last of her Pinot Grigio and gathered her coat. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck, my friend. Well, except maybe for hailing a cab.” Harper laughed at her own joke as Allie slid out of the booth.
“I’ll call you later.”
Harper smiled and reached for her wine glass. “Jeez, let’s hope not.” She lifted her glass. “In fact, here’s to hoping I don’t hear from you till at least Monday.”
Allie shrugged her coat on. “Don’t get carried away. I’m going to talk to him, that’s all. And I have no idea what he’s going to have to say for himself.”
Snow was falling when she stepped out into the cold night air. The city thrummed around her, taxis and pedestrians clogging the street and sidewalks as the start of their weekend took them up and down the Magnificent Mile. She stood at the curb, her arm raised as she tried in vain to hail a taxi. One finally approached, but instead of stopping, it sped past to make the light, sending a spray of icy water in her direction. She jumped back and cursed under her breath.
Impatient and convinced she could walk the half mile faster than she could hail a cab on a Thursday night, Allie set off on foot. Snowflakes the size of cotton balls swirled in the wind as she made her way north on Michigan Avenue, weaving between window shoppers, tourists, and commuters.
By the time she reached the river she was covered with snow, but she hardly noticed. And as she crossed the bridge, her heels slipped on the frost that had formed on the iron grates, but she kept her pace. Her fingers were numb and her feet were wet, but none of that mattered. Her entire focus was one goaclass="underline" finding Hudson. She could see his building in the distance along the south bank of the river. The Leo Burnett building, or Chase Industries building, as it was now known, was a formidable presence on the Chicago skyline. From the charcoal-gray granite to the black glass and the chrome accents, the postmodern building was as masculine and powerful as the man whose name was emblazoned above the door. Her gaze traveled up the fifty stories to the top floor, where light glowed from Hudson’s corner office. Was he there, burning the midnight oil, or was it merely the cleaning crew, hard at work after he’d left for the night? Maybe to meet Sophia. Or what if she’d stopped by after work and was with him now? An increasingly familiar ache burned inside her chest as she suddenly pictured Sophia there with him, her voluptuous curves pressed beneath Hudson’ s hard frame on the very couch where he’d kissed her not three months before. Was that what she was about to charge in and confront?
There was only one way to find out.
Allie spun through the steel-frame revolving doors. The lobby was nearly empty except for a man standing in the corner beneath a bronze sculpture, his briefcase at his feet as he texted feverishly on his smartphone. The heels of Allie’s shoes clicked and echoed off the travertine floors as she made her way to the security desk.
“Evening, Miss Sinclair,” the security guard said with a nod.
Allie’s gaze shifted to the brushed silver bar pinned to his blazer, but the name engraved on it didn’t ring any bells. “Forgive me,” she said, embarrassed. “Have we met?”
The guard’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile. “No, ma’am, but there’s a standing order to send you up. No call needed.”
Allie returned his smile as if everything in her life was okay, as if she wasn’t about to risk what was left of her heart in an impulsive move that had her racing like a crazy woman through the snow-covered streets of Chicago. Hurrying past him to the elevator bank, she pressed the call button over and over in a futile attempt to make the car arrive more quickly. A ping alerted her to which set of doors would be opening, and she moved to stand in front of them. They’d barely opened before she was inside, repeating the button routine until the elevator began its glide to the top floor. With no music piped in after hours, the only sound she heard in the confined space was the pounding of her heart, which seemed to grow faster with each passing floor.
After what felt like an eternity, the doors slid open. The couches in the reception area were empty and the lights were dim. The entire floor appeared to be vacant except for Hudson’s assistant, Darren. As she bolted past, his head snapped up from his computer monitor and his eyes grew wide.
“Miss Sinclair.” There was a rustle of activity as he disentangled from his headset and a moment later he was tight on her heels. “If you wouldn’t mind taking a seat,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I’ll let Mr. Chase know you’re here.”