The Invitation

“Seriously? They think they can sell that many?” Stella sat down, as if the number was too big to digest while standing.

“According to Jack, their sales forecasting is pretty spot-on. They know their audiences and buying power.”

“My God. That’s crazy. But we can’t be ready that soon.”

“Yes, we can!” Olivia chimed in. “We have no choice. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We have to be ready.”

Stella raised a hand to her forehead. “But how? We just ordered some of the products we need, and they’re coming from overseas. Shipping alone is almost two months. We won’t have anything ready next week.”

“Well, we have longer than next week,” I said. “The show would film next week, but air the following Saturday. Then they allow two to four weeks for shipping. So we could stretch it before we’d have to start moving products out the door. We’d either have to expedite the stuff we’re missing—put them on a plane instead of a slow boat. Or find suppliers locally to start shipping until the full stock comes in. Maybe both.”

Stella shook her head. “That’ll all be really expensive.”

“We could increase the price point to help make it up,” Olivia said.

Stella looked skeptical. “I don’t know. Perfume is really price sensitive when you aren’t a well-known brand or don’t have a celebrity endorsement.”

“The shopping channel sells their products on a three-payment plan,” Olivia said. “So items aren’t as price sensitive as they normally are. Something that’s fifty-nine ninety-nine might be hard to swallow, but when it becomes three easy payments of nineteen ninety-nine, it’s a lot more palatable for a consumer.”

“Well, if you guys think we could make it work, it’s obviously an incredible opportunity,” Stella said. “Maybe we could spend the next day or so figuring out what it would take to make it happen?”

I shook my head. “We don’t have a day. They need an answer sooner.”

“How much sooner?” Stella asked.

I looked down at my watch. “We have about fifty minutes left.”

We reconvened in the conference room five minutes before I was supposed to call Jack back with a decision. Stella tossed a legal pad with shit scribbled all over it on the table.

“I can get half of what we need expedited from local suppliers, with the exception of two items—calone and ambrette. The price is much higher, but if we buy in bulk, it’s not actually as terrible as I thought it would be. And the lab is available to mix ingredients as soon as the orders come in. With that kind of volume, it might take us a few days to fill orders, but it’s doable within the turnaround time.”

I nodded. “I can get the two items you can’t source locally flown in with very little price difference by increasing the order size.” We both looked to Olivia.

She smiled. “The printer said he can run the presses all night, if he has to. He just needs twenty-four-hours’ notice for staffing, and of course, our finalized PDF files, which aren’t ready, but can be shortly. And the website is a non-issue. There are some cosmetic things the team was working on, but we could go live in an hour if we needed to.”

Stella couldn’t hide the excitement on her face. “Oh my God, are we really going to do this?”

“Looks like it,” I said. “Though I forgot to mention one small detail.”

“What?”

“They want you on camera to sell the product with Robyn.”

Her eyes widened. “Me? On camera? I’ve never done that before.”

“Guess there’s a first time for everything.” I smirked. “You’ll get to make good use of your happiness system.”

“She’s fucking hot.”

Jack’s head moved in tandem with Stella’s legs as she walked out onto the stage. She bent so the sound guy could hook up her microphones, and I didn’t give him a chance to say anything more.

My jaw flexed. “Don’t be disrespectful, you dick.”

He scoffed. “What? Like you weren’t looking at her ass just now?”

I didn’t answer.

“Nice rack, too.”

A noise gurgled from my throat.

Jack turned with a knowing smirk plastered on his face. “Did you just growl at me?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Admit it. You don’t want me looking because you like her. You’re already territorial about this chick.”

“This chick? Is it nineteen eighty-five here in the studio? Do you refer to your employees like that?”

“Stop deflecting. You like this woman, and you know it.”

Jack might be vice president of a big company now, but parts of him were eternally stuck in sixth grade. I knew if I didn’t give him something, he’d never shut the hell up.

So I tried to pacify him. “She’s turned out to be a hard worker and a nice person, yes.”

“So you don’t think she’s hot?”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s attractive, yes.”

“But you don’t want to bang her?”

“Stella and I have a business relationship.”

“Oh…so it’s the business relationship that’s the problem? So if you weren’t in business with her, you’d be trying to bang her?”

“I’m done with this conversation.”

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Okay. So you don’t mind if I bring Brent down to meet her, then?”

“Brent?”

“Fenway. You remember him from college, right? Tall, good-looking—probably the only one who gave you a run for your money back in the day. He works here now. Looks the same, except more jacked. Still single…”

My friend thought he was being cute, as if I wouldn’t give him a set of black eyes to match my fading ones. “Fuck off,” I said.

He grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

A little while later, Jack looked at his watch. “I have a meeting. You hanging around for the taping?”

“Yeah. Olivia couldn’t be here, so I told her I’d stick it out.”

“They’re probably going to be a few hours.”

I held up my phone. “I have plenty to do to keep me busy.”

He stood and clapped my shoulder. “I’m sure you do. But I’d bet my bank account you don’t take your eyes off that stage.”

It was a good thing I hadn’t taken that bet—not that I would’ve ever admitted I’d spent the last three fucking hours watching Stella’s every move on the stage. When Jack had told me they wanted Stella on-air, a part of me wasn’t sure that was a wise business move. Sure, she was gorgeous and the camera would probably love her, but she had no experience. Though after sitting around the last few hours and watching her, I completely understood what the host had seen that made her want Stella to be part of the pitch.

She was passionate and funny, and had an innocent quality that made you believe everything she said up there—as if she were too wholesome to lie. Hell, I wanted to buy the freaking perfume, and I owned part of the company.

A little after five o’clock, they finally wrapped shooting. Stella talked to the host and crew for a while, then turned to look out into the audience. She cupped her hands over her brows, shielding her eyes from the overhead light. Finding me still sitting in the fourth row back, she smiled and headed to the stairs at the side of the stage. I stood and walked down the aisle to meet her.

“Oh my God,” she said. “That was so much fun!”

“You looked like you were having a good time.”

“I hope I don’t come off as a weirdo.” She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “I felt…like I’d been electrocuted or something. Not in a cook-your-organs way, but like a nonstop jolt of energy racing through my body.”

I laughed. “You did great—entertaining, yet sincere.” I turned at the sound of the stage door behind us opening and closing. Jack was back, and the fucker wasn’t alone. I was going to kick his scrawny ass.

He walked over, sporting the biggest, gloating smile. “Hudson, you remember Brent, right?”

I gritted my teeth and extended my hand. “I do. How’s it going, Brent?”

We were still shaking when the asshole’s eyes locked on Stella. He couldn’t let go of my hand fast enough. “I don’t think we’ve met. Brent Fenway.”

Stella smiled. “Fenway like the park?”

“One and the same. Have you ever been there?”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“Maybe I can take you sometime.”

Seriously? He’d been in the room less than thirty seconds, and he was already hitting on her? How long until he pissed on her like she was a fire hydrant?

Jack gave me a look and rocked back and forth on his heels. He seemed pretty damn proud of himself. “That sounds like a fun date. Don’t you think, Hudson?”

I glared at him. “I’m a Yankees fan.”

“I saw Robyn on my way back down. She wants to see us.” Jack thumbed toward the door he’d just walked through. “She’s in her office. It’s just down the hall.”

“Okay.” Couldn’t say I was upset to say goodbye to Brent so soon. I nodded at him. “Good seeing you.” I extended a hand to Stella. “After you…”

Jack shook his head. “Actually, she only asked to see you and me, Hudson. Stella can hang back here. I’m sure Brent can keep her company.”

Brent flashed a smile I wanted to punch. “Absolutely.”

The minute we were out in the hall, Jack poked the bear.

“Brent looks good, doesn’t he?”

I glared in response.

“They make a cute couple, him and Stella.”

“You’ve made your point. Now go tell him to get the fuck back to work.”

Jack smiled. “Can’t do that. He doesn’t work for me.”

Luckily for my friend, Robyn walked out of her office. “There you are. I have some good news to share.”

I had to plaster on a happy face when all I wanted was to kill my buddy and use his limp body as a bat to knock out the pretty boy back in the studio.

“We’re here, and you just killed it up on stage taping the segment for Signature Scent,” Jack said, “I think we’re already floating in good news.”

Robyn handed me a packet of papers. “We usually test potential products with a focus group before we take them on—to see if they appeal to our known audience and to find out what they’ll want to know most about the product. We didn’t have time for that with Signature Scent since it was a last-minute add, but we had a group here today for another project. I had Mike, the segment producer, sneak over with a few minutes of what we taped earlier in the day, and it tested through the roof. I think we need to increase our sales forecast.”

I looked down at the numbers. She wasn’t kidding.

How likely are you to buy the product – 94% said extremely likely.

Have you found a similar product anywhere else – 0% said yes.

How relatable was the guest host – 92% said she was relatable.

And on and on—three pages of numbers that were truly remarkable. I flipped through, scanning them all. “This is…” I shook my head. “It’s incredible.”

“You know what else it is?” Jack said. We both looked to him. “Cause for celebration.”

That evening, Stella and I drove to the restaurant together. Robyn and Jack were meeting us there, and we were ten minutes early and the first ones to arrive.

“Drink at the bar?” I asked her.

“That sounds great.”

We told the hostess where we were going and found two stools next to each other.

The bartender walked over and placed a napkin in front of each of us. “What can I get for you?”

I looked to Stella.

“I’ll have a merlot, please.”

“Would you like to see the wine menu to select one?”

She shook her head. “House wine is fine.”

He looked to me. “And for you?”

“I’ll take a Coors Light.”

Once he walked away, I raised a brow at Stella. “No gin to sniff?”

She smiled. “Not tonight. I don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business with hard liquor.”

“You also don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business with dating. Yet you’re going to ask me out.”

She laughed. “Oh, am I?”

I’d spent the entire day watching her from a distance. The makeup people had painted her with much more than she normally wore, including a bright red lipstick that still hadn’t dulled after all these hours. I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth.

I swallowed, staring at her lips. “Some rules were made to be bent.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Are you a rule-bender, Hudson? I feel like you know so much about me, yet I don’t know too much about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

The bartender brought over our drinks, and Stella lifted her wine to her lips.

“I don’t know. You’re divorced. What happened there?”

I frowned. “This is supposed to be a celebration, not a funeral.”

She smiled. “That bad?”

“I gave her my grandmother’s ring when I proposed. A few days later, I came home and she had a different ring on. She’d sold the ring and bought one she’d liked better.”

Stella’s eyes widened. “Oh my.”

I sucked back my beer. “Serves me right since I married her anyway.”

“Why did you?”

That was a damn good question. People always asked why we broke up, but never why I’d married Lexi to begin with. “If you’d asked me that before the wedding, I would have said I was young and we had a lot in common—we both liked to travel, we ran in the same social circle…”

“But the answer isn’t the same now?”

I shook my head. “Hindsight is a lot clearer. My mother had died the year before. I was working in the family business, taking on more and more responsibilities because my father had taken a step back from things after his first heart attack. It felt like what should come next. That sounds really ignorant saying it out loud today, but my family was falling apart, and I think I just wanted what I’d had, so I went about making my own. I’d been with Lexi for a few years, so I took the next steps. Basically, I was an idiot.”

“I don’t think you were an idiot. I think it’s kind of sweet that you were trying to hold on to your family life. I take it your parents had a strong marriage?”

I nodded. “They did. Still held hands, and whenever one of them noticed the time was five thirteen on a clock, they wished each other a happy anniversary. They were married on May thirteenth.”

“Aww…that’s pretty romantic.”

“What about you? Parents still married?”

“They are. But they have an…interesting marriage…” She hesitated. “My parents are polyamorous.”

My brows jumped. “Wow. So your father is married to multiple people?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s polygamy. They just have an open relationship. Always have.”

“How does that work?”

“I grew up in a two-story house in Westchester. We had a small, two-bedroom apartment downstairs, and three bedrooms upstairs. On the main floor, life was normal. My sister and I each had our own room, and my parents shared a bedroom. But we always had a lot of my parents’ friends come to stay in the guest rooms downstairs. They never really hid their lifestyle from us, but it wasn’t until I was about eight or nine that I realized how different their relationship was. Our bathroom was getting redone on the main floor, and I’d woken up in the middle of the night. I needed to go, so I went downstairs. As I went toward the bathroom, a woman walked out in her underwear. I’d met her before, but I hadn’t expected to see anyone, so I screamed. My father came running out from the bedroom down the hall in his underwear. The next day, my parents sat my sister and me down and explained things.”

“That must have been difficult to grasp at that age.”

She nodded. “I definitely struggled with it for a while. None of my friends’ parents were like that, and neither were the couples on TV—especially not twenty years ago. So I didn’t understand why my parents had to be different. It made me wonder if that’s how my life would be. I remember asking my mom one day if what they had was hereditary.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t… You’re not…”

Stella chuckled. “Definitely not. I’ve accepted my parents’ marriage for what it is, but I knew early on that it wasn’t a lifestyle I wanted. I’m a pretty jealous person when it comes to my relationships. I’m way too territorial to share.”

I smiled, thinking about how I’d felt when Jack had brought Brent around. Hell, Stella and I weren’t even dating, and I’d wanted to punch the guy. “I get it.”

I remembered that she’d alluded to a bad relationship with her father the day she came to my office to pick up her cell. “Do they still live in Westchester?”

She nodded. “Same house. As far as I know, they have the same upstairs marital bedroom and the downstairs for their extracurricular activities. But I haven’t been there in over a year.” She sipped her wine. “We had a…falling out, I guess you could say. If you don’t mind, I don’t really want to talk about it. Today was such a great day, and I’m not ready to come down from the high of it all.”

“Yeah, of course.”

She sipped her wine. “How about your family? Do you have any siblings besides Olivia?”

I shook my head. “Just the one. Thank God. I couldn’t afford another wedding.”

“I’m sure having a wedding at the library must’ve cost a small fortune. One of the women whose diaries I read a while ago got married there, too. I fell in love with the way she described it. At the time I was reading it, I worked nearby, and I used to go sit outside on the library stairs for lunch every day and read a few pages. I always looked around and wondered if the man she’d married might be passing by, since they’d obviously lived local at one time.”

“You told me the diaries are your version of reality TV. But it sounds more like romantic fantasy than reality, if you ask me.”

“Actually,” she said. “That particular diary turned out to be more like a horror story. It was part of the reason I found out Aiden was cheating on me.”

“How so?”

“The diary had big gaps in time and spanned a few years. But after the over-the-moon wedding at the library, things apparently turned sour. She went from entries where she described the beautiful venue and her flowers, to entries where she described how she was covering up an affair. Some of the things she was doing hit home because I’d noticed the same changes in Aiden—like he’d started to work late and then shower as soon as he came home. The woman described how much she hated to wash the smell of her lover off, and she said she actually resented her husband because she had to shower right away when she came home after one of her dalliances. That led me to start asking Aiden questions. At first he made me think I was paranoid. He blamed the diaries I read for planting things in my head that didn’t exist. But more and more, things made me suspect something was going on. I’m actually pretty ashamed of how crazy I became at the end.”

“What could you have done to be ashamed of? Sounds like your ex is the one who should be ashamed.”

Stella looked away for a moment. “How did we get to talking about me again? We’re supposed to be talking about you.”

“I think the mention of my sister’s wedding at the library took us down a path. I don’t think I told you, but I was also married there.”

“Really? Your sister got married at the same place you did?”

I nodded. “Our parents were married there, too. Ever since she was little, Olivia had been saying both of our weddings were going to be there. I’m glad she didn’t let my outcome take that away from her.”

We finished our drinks, but neither Jack nor Robyn had shown up. I looked at my watch and realized they were twenty minutes late.

Stella noticed. “We were supposed to meet them at seven, right?”

I nodded and glanced over to the front entrance. No one was waiting. “Let me double-check. Maybe I got the time wrong.” I took out my phone and clicked into the text message Jack had sent. We were in the right place at the right time, so I shot my buddy a text.

Hudson: Did you change the restaurant or something? Stella and I are the only ones at The NoMad.

Stella’s wine was empty. I motioned to her glass. “You want another?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“But do you want one?”

She laughed. “I’ll pass. I want to keep a clear head during dinner with Robyn.”

A minute later, my phone chimed with a response from Jack.

Jack: Did I forget to mention that the celebration was canceled for tonight? Robyn couldn’t get a sitter. She’s going to let me know what works for her next week.

I typed back.

Hudson: WTF? Yes, you did.

Jack: Guess it must’ve slipped my mind. Go celebrate without us tonight. Unless you’re not up for it? I can always text Brent to come take Stella off your hands…

I shook my head.

Hudson: You’re such a dick. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?

Jack: You’re welcome, my friend.

I tossed my phone on the bar.

“Everything okay?” Stella asked.

“Apparently something came up and dinner’s been rescheduled. My jackass of a friend forgot to let me know.”

“Oh. Wow. Okay.”

My buddy’s tactics might have been underhanded, but I couldn’t say I was displeased with the result.

“We’re on the same side now, right?”

Stella’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want to have another drink because we were having dinner with business associates. But you and I aren’t business associates, we’re co-owners. So we’re on the same side.”

She smiled. “I guess I have less to worry about now, considering I’ve already made a fool out of myself in front of you multiple times.”

“What do you say we have that second drink while we order dinner? We should still celebrate.”

She bit her bottom lip.

I reached out with my thumb, rubbing until she released it. “Stop worrying. It’s not a date. We’re just business partners and friends having dinner. I won’t maul you until you ask me out.”