Off the Record: A Sweet Office Romantic Comedy (The Nashville Romantics Book 1)
Off the Record: Chapter 9

Hudson wasn’t wrong. The awards don’t take overly long to hand out, but the speeches go on for ages. How much can each person say about their experience with this company? Apparently, a lot. By the time we’ve reached Phil’s category, we’re nearing the end. The Outdoors took the award for best clicks on a website article, but other than that, the Tribune has swept the floor. It wasn’t looking very promising.

But, to all of our surprise, when Lucy opens the card to read the winner, she says, “Phil Jenkins.”

Phil stands, blinking with surprise. He walks to the stage to accept the award and leans into the microphone. “Thank you.” The man immediately sits back down.

Simone is absolutely beaming.

Leo is probably mourning his loss in the back somewhere.

“Lovely speech,” Mr. Owens says, clapping. “If only they could all be so concise.”

“Congrats,” I tell him, leaning over Simone. His face is beet red, making his golden hair look yellow.

Lucy moves on to the next category, and the rest of the event is over in a flash. Hudson closes the evening with his speech thanking everyone in the room for contributing their talents and support to the company. Before I know it, we’re all standing near the table, congratulating nearby winners in a flurry of sequins and tuxedos.

“Want to go out and celebrate with us?” Simone asks, leaning close. “I don’t know where we’ll go yet, but Phil is willing and I don’t want to miss this opportunity.”

“Just go out, the two of you,” I tell her. “I can Uber back to my car just fine.”

“It would be fun if we went together.”

“Yeah, but you’d like it if it was just you and him,” I say, grinning.

She smiles so widely, I know I’m right. “Maybe.”

“Go. I’ll replace my own way back.”

“Hudson probably has a car. Or a driver.”

“He drives his own car,” I hiss.

Simone rolls her eyes, laughing. She leaves to speak in Phil’s ear, and soon they slip away.

“Are they leaving?” Hudson asks, pressing into my arm so someone can pass behind him.

“It’s kind of their first date. Simone invited us, but I told her to go without us.”

“Probably a good idea,” he says, sounding like he’d rather not go with them at all.

I look up at him, craning my neck. “They’re a lot of fun—well, Simone is. I don’t know Phil.”

Hudson looks surprised by my defensive tone. “I’m sure. I’d love to go out with them. Trust me, they won’t want me there.” He holds my gaze. “You shouldn’t, either,” he adds quietly.

Because he’s the big scary boss man with eccentric parents and an uncle who’s obviously grooming him to take over the company? He has much too high an opinion of his impediments. They’re all external. He’s surprisingly real. “Do you have anywhere you need to be tonight?” I ask.

He holds my gaze. “No. Do you want to come over?”

“I’d love to,” I say without giving myself a chance to think about it.

“We can walk from here.” He reaches for my hand. We head out to the foyer of the hotel before he stops. “Actually, I should give my mother a hug or I’ll never hear the end of it. They’ll be in Cabo until December.”

And his dad thought they needed longer trips?

I pull my hand free. “I’ll wait for you here.” I step out of the center of the walkway, admiring the textured walls and modern light fixtures. It’s tasteful and charming. Groups of people meander past me, and I smile at each of them, greeting the few I know. We don’t have a great turnout from the Rhythm, but there weren’t many nominations that included my paper, so it makes sense.

Maybe now that Hudson has had a hand in getting us on track, he’ll be able to influence the awards going forward, make them less biased.

I look toward the open doorway for Hudson just as Leo and Kyla step through. Great. She glances at me and looks away, but Leo slows once they reach me.

“If you listen to the stats, you never really had a chance,” I say, trying to make him feel better. “You aren’t from the Tribune or the Outdoors.”

“What a joke,” he says quietly, shaking his head. “Why do they bother inviting the rest of us?”

“Stan feels the same way,” I mutter.

Kyla reaches for his hand and tugs it gently. “We should get going or we’ll miss our Uber.”

He nods. “Right.”

“Anyway, better luck next year,” I tell him.

“Maybe next year you’ll be up there with me,” he says.

I’m immediately thrown back into the blissful beginning of our whirlwind relationship, our hopeful conversations about winning awards that lead to promotions and doing great things in the news world. While I don’t respect Leo anymore, I can recognize that he isn’t entirely evil. He made some bad choices, and I don’t ever have to like him, but I don’t hate the guy either.

A look passes between us, and I can feel deep in my bones he’s thinking similar things.

“Have a good night,” I say to them both, ending the conversation. I don’t know if it’s him seeing me with Hudson tonight that’s giving us closure, but I feel things shifting in a good way.

“Thanks, Paise.” He takes Kyla’s hand and leads her away.

The door opens a few more times, letting out groups. I’m reaching the point where I wonder if I should head back inside to replace Hudson when Andrea steps out in a short black dress and sky-high heels. She pulls them off so well. “Twins!” she says, stalking over to me and throwing her arm around my shoulders.

I’m a shorter version of her in a longer gown, but we are dressed somewhat alike. “How was your night?”

“Great.” She grins. “Marty is taking me to that place you wrote about—Bourbon something.”

“Whiskey Sage?”

“Yes,” she says, giddy. Sounds like she’s already had something to drink. “But first he’s talking to Hudson. I need the bathroom.” She looks around, lost. “Where did it go?”

I could direct her, but she’ll probably end up walking into the wedding reception in the other ballroom. “I’ll walk you there.” We head down the hallway toward the restroom signs, and she drags me inside with her.

“You’re so nice, Pesley.”

“Paisely.”

“That’s what I said. You’re the nicest.” She goes into a stall. I check my hair in the mirror while she keeps talking. “You deserve so much better than him, you know.”

“I’m not with Leo anymore,” I remind her. “He’s with Kyla now.”

“I know. I’m talking about Husson Owens. He can’t seriously take away your job and expect you to stay with him, right?”

My world spins to a stop. The face looking back at me in the mirror blurs, Andrea’s words reaching me slowly and settling into my skin. “Wait, what?”

“Your job,” she repeats slowly, like I’m the one with a lagging response time. “He can’t expect you to stay with him after he fires you.”

We aren’t together, but that seems like the minor point to make right now. “Andrea, what are you talking about?” I don’t say it, but Hudson has been working overtime to help me keep my job. “You know he’s been tutoring me with my column.”

“That’s the worst part,” she calls as the toilet flushes. “He used his position to get close to you⁠—”

“Rewind,” I say as she comes out of the stall and starts washing her hands. “Why am I being fired?”

She looks at me like I’m trying to convince her sunflowers smell like lemons. “Everyone’s being fired. The whole paper is going down, and they’re only absorbing the people to other papers that they really want to keep. I saw the list.”

Cold icy dread snakes its fingers around my ankles, locking me in place. “I’m not on it?”

“No. Neither is Simone, so both of you need new jobs. But don’t tell her. I’m only sad to lose you.”

“Because you’re staying.”

“As Hudson’s personal secretary.” She preens—or as much as one can when they’re using a paper towel dispenser to keep themselves upright. “He asked me Monday.”

Monday. Like, five days ago. Five full days that we’d texted, grabbed dinner, had gone to the Parthenon replica to meet up with a security guard who had immigrated here from Brazil and has an incredible story to share. Hudson drove me home from that outing, and we’d sat in his car in front of my house for an hour and talked. There has been no shortage of opportunities for him to explain this to me.

But he’s told Andrea already. Because she’s his next conquest? No, even as I think it, it doesn’t feel fair. He hasn’t treated me like that at all. He’s treated me like a friend. No. A project? I’m all muddled now.

“I need to replace Marty,” she says, trying to stand straight. “He has my Tic Tacs.”

“Let’s go get your Tic Tacs, then.” I take her arm and lead her back to the foyer.

I’d like to think Hudson has been waiting for the right moment, and maybe that’s tonight. I don’t want to storm up to him, angry and demanding answers, if he might be planning to tell me himself. I’ve already faced one boyfriend this year who lied and kept things from me. Against all odds, I’m hungry for this situation to be different—for Hudson to be different. My gut tells me he is, and I don’t want to be wrong.

He’s standing near the doors when we make it back, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone to his ear. He lowers it once he sees us. “I was just calling you.”

I try to smile naturally. “My phone’s on do not disturb.”

He nods. “Okay. You ready to go?” He glances at Andrea. “Your date is still in there talking to someone.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and heads back for the ballroom. I watch her, making sure she gets through the right doors, before turning back to Hudson.

He looks uncertain. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I say brightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He’s not convinced. “I can take you home if you’d prefer.”

And miss the chance for him to come clean on his own? No. “I’d rather stay.”

“Okay.” He reaches for my hand, and it feels natural to let him take it. Surprising for someone who hasn’t even kissed me yet. But I let him pull me outside and walk down the sidewalk toward his building, crossing my fingers that once we get there, he’ll be honest with me. I really don’t want this magic between us to be wrong.

Surprising no one, Hudson does live in a penthouse near the top of an elite building downtown. I don’t see a gold-plated gym anywhere, but I’m guessing it’s hidden behind a secret door. He has the dream kitchen of American sitcoms and a view to rival the one in his office. It’s stunning, the river glinting against the sparkling lights of the city at night, the plush sofa and tastefully placed plants. This apartment is a Better Homes and Gardens ad. It’s stunning, but it doesn’t feel like him at all.

Hudson makes some tea, because I mentioned being cold on the walk, and carries it toward his sofa where I’m wrapped in a blanket. I’ve debated outright asking him about what Andrea said since we started walking here, but it’s important to me that he comes out with it on his own.

I had to replace Leo in the middle of his lies. I don’t want to go through the same thing with Hudson.

“Here you are,” he says, handing me a mug.

I take a sip, and it warms me from the inside. “Thanks.”

Hudson sits beside me. His arm is strung along the back of the sofa, and he’s looking at me with a furrow between his eyebrows. “Sorry about my family.”

“They’re fine,” I tell him. “It’s interesting to see where you come from.”

“I understand. I wouldn’t mind seeing the home that made you, too.”

My home. My parents and siblings and dogs. Our mismatched cups and messy counters. My life is so different from this pristine, hotel-like penthouse and the leathery people who apparently are old enough to be Hudson’s parents but definitely look more like his older brother and sister. I can’t even imagine our families together at Christmas. It would never work.

I take another sip to put off saying what I need to, but it’s inevitable, really. Just being here is good for me, seeing the stark differences between us in a calculable way. Leaning forward, I let the blanket fall from my shoulders and rest the mug on the coffee table, perching on the edge of the sofa cushion.

Hudson sits up.

“Is there anything you need to say to me?” I ask.

He blinks, his bright blue eyes tracking my face in rapid motion. “What’s going on, Paisley?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me. Do you have something to tell me?”

We sit there in silence, him staring, me hoping. It’s painful, my nails digging into my palms while I wait. But he deserves a chance to come out with it, to explain the madness Andrea spouted.

“Hudson,” I breathe. “I can’t take another man lying to me, hiding things from me. It hurts.”

“I’m not seeing anyone else,” he says carefully. “I haven’t gone out with another woman since I saw you with that flat tire on the side of the road.”

My eyes close. “That’s not⁠—”

“I’ve liked you since that meeting about the columns last month, but I didn’t have the guts to ask you out.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I mean it. I already liked your writing, but then I met you and realized you were as cool as your voice.” He scoots closer, earnestly holding my gaze. “Why do you think I’ve been working so closely with you on those articles? I needed an excuse to be around you. When my uncle mentioned the interim editor position, I offered to take it because I was intrigued and wanted to see more of you.”

What? I’m squirming, wanting so badly for this to be true, even when I deeply feel how it’s not all adding up. “But you only agreed to come with me tonight for Leo’s sake.”

“No,” he says quietly. “I never said that. You did. I asked you to be my date, and you needed a reason to accept. It was real for me, Paisley. Everything was real for me.”

My heart thunders in my chest, fighting the urge to run with the strong inclination to jump into his arms.

He takes my hand, pulling me toward him. I go willingly. When he cups my jaw, I think I might melt right into him. “Believe me, Paisley. I only took this job because I realized it would give me a chance to get to know you. But now I sound like a creep.”

“Not really,” I say, leaning closer, my fingers sliding around the back of his neck. His breath is hot against my skin. “I’m not complaining.”

I can feel his lips smile against my jaw.

The tugging in my gut reminds me that we haven’t discussed everything. I want to forget what Andrea said, but I can’t. It takes everything I possess to pull away from him, but I meet his eyes with mine. They look half drunk, but I was beside him all night and know it must be from emotion.

“Andrea said your company is dissolving Rhythm, that we’re all losing our jobs, and you’ve already asked her to be your new personal secretary.”

Hudson’s expression stills. The seconds pass in heavy, thick silence, his guilt growing more evident with every beat of the clock.

My stomach drops. I know with certainty that it’s all true and, once again, I’ve been lied to. The truth has been withheld. I’ve been falling for someone who isn’t honest with me. It’s Leo all over again.

My body goes tight and shaky, like my skin is swarming with bugs. I pull away. He reaches for me, but he must notice my expression, because he withdraws. “Was my position ever safe?”

“Paisley.”

“Be honest. I deserve time to replace a new job.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “No one has been safe⁠—”

“Okay, I’ve heard enough.” The fact that he isn’t dropping immediate explanations hurts, but it also effectively drives anger through me with the power of a commercial coffee machine.

“Paisley, please wait.”

“Unless you have something to say that will explain all this, I really don’t want to hear it.”

He looks lost.

Which is hard to see, but enough to make me leave. I give him a few seconds to start explaining—to say anything. When he remains silent, I walk to the door and close it behind me.

He doesn’t follow.