The Perfect Illusion Page 13

  But my moment of pride is short-lived, swallowed into a sinking black hole the second I see Hollis walk in the door.

  “Alec!” Audrina waves to get his attention, motioning for him to take the seat beside her—and next to us.

  Chapter 21

  Hudson

  “Always thought you’d end up with my sister.” Alec leans against the bar at Bleu Marina’s, his hand gripped around a cold stein of beer.

  “Mari’s great, isn’t she?” Scanning the room, I spot her in the corner, chatting away with my great aunts Tipper and Winnie. I knew Mari would be able to handle herself with dignity and grace under all this scrutiny, but she’s really gone above and beyond tonight.

  In fact, shortly after the toast, she decided to make some rounds solo, getting up and personally introducing herself to the rest of the room. I lost her somewhere between my mom’s college sorority sister and our former neighbor from Manhattan.

  “There’s something familiar about her,” Alec says, squinting in her direction. “She reminds me of someone.”

  “Who?”

  “No clue.” He shrugs, taking another drink.

  “God, please tell me you didn’t drunk-swipe her on Tinder last time you were in town.”

  Alec laughs. “Probably not. But you never know.”

  Shaking my head, I place my empty beer glass on the bar. “I should go to her.”

  “Yeah,” he says, chuckling. “Do the right thing, man. Don’t make her fend off these upper crust assholes by herself.”

  Making my way across the room, I find Mari in the corner with my father’s former business partner’s ex-wife, who is still entangled in the same Hampton’s social circle after all these years.

  This place is like a fucking cult for social climbers.

  “Hey.” I lean in, surprising her with a kiss in front of Bitsy Hinkler, who clasps at her pearls. “Didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I needed to catch up with Alec. Hadn’t seen him in a while.”

  “It’s fine.” She places her hand on my chest.

  We’ve been here a while now, at least a good hour, and I know my mother only has the party room booked until seven.

  “You want to go upstairs to the roof? Get some fresh air?” I offer.

  “Yeah,” she says, biting her lower lip. “That sounds … great.”

  We excuse ourselves from Bitsy and head for the stairs, climbing to the rooftop where a small jazz ensemble is setting up. The smell of fried seafood and expensive cocktails mixes with salty ocean air, and we find a small high top table near an isolated stretch of railing.

  “You’re doing great,” I say.

  She brushes a strand of blonde hair from her eyes, turning to me. “You don’t have to encourage me, Hudson. I’m not a dog.”

  “I know.” I smirk. “You’re a smart-mouthed woman. I just wanted to tell you that I see what you’re doing. I notice it. And I appreciate it.”

  “Which is more than you could ever say when I was your personal assistant.” She winks, but I know she’s not entirely kidding.

  I smirk. “I deserve that.”

  “Would we care for anything to drink?” A Bleu Marina server approaches our table.

  “No, thanks,” Mari says, and at the same time I say, “Yes, please.”

  We exchange looks and she laughs.

  “I guess we’re good,” I say. “Thank you.”

  “You could’ve ordered something.”

  I shrug.

  “I have to say, this night isn’t as painful as I thought it would be,” I muse, my gaze settling on her again.

  “You thought it was going to be painful?”

  “Painfully boring.” I glance at the ocean below and the long stretch of dock leading to rows of boats bobbing in the water. “That said, do you want to get out of here?”

  She glances from side to side before resting her eyes on mine. “The party’s not over yet. We can’t just leave.”

  “Ninety percent of the guests are downstairs and drunk out of their minds since my mother felt our engagement party required an open bar,” I say. “The other ten percent haven’t so much as said hello to either of us. I doubt they’d care if we just … disappeared.”

  “Fine.” She rises, clasping her clutch and placing it just beneath her elbow. Her mouth twists into a relieved smirk. “But only because it’s your idea, and a good fiancée wouldn’t force her future husband to stick around if he’s ready to go.”

  “I like the way you think.” I leave the table, resisting the urge to playfully slap her on the ass, and we head downstairs to slip away. If my mother asks tomorrow, we made our rounds and said our goodbyes. It’s not like anyone will remember much of tonight anyway with all the champagne being passed around.

  Minutes later, we’re climbing into the front seat of my father’s vintage Alfa Romeo Giulietta and cruising down Montauk highway, the salty wind in our hair and the stark realization that I’m quite enjoying my time with Maribel.

  A lot more than I thought I would—actually a lot more than I should.

  Chapter 22

  Maribel

  I dig my toes into the sand, staring out at a pitch-black ocean painted in golden Montauk moonlight.

  “You cold?” Hudson grabs a spare serape blanket and wraps it around my shoulders, scooting closer. His hand rubs small circles into my back.

  “Thank you.” I pull the fabric tight around me, gathering a handful to hold it together.

  An hour ago we came back from the party, changed into pajamas, and decided to sit on the beach for a bit.

  I’m still reeling—for better or for worse—about the fact that my baby’s father walked into the party tonight. I couldn’t let myself react though. I had to hold my head high, slap a smile on my face, and do my job.

  “So are you and … Alec … close?” I ask, the wind having its way with my hair.

  “We were best friends growing up,” he says, bending his knees and wrapping his arms around them as he stares at the sea. “Alec is a bit of a free spirit. I sort of stuck around the city after college. He never stayed in one place for very long.”

  “He seems nice,” I say.

  “He’s a nice guy, yeah. Hard to believe he and Audrina are related, huh?”

  I chuckle, silently relieved and simultaneously disgusted that my unborn child will have Audrina as an aunt.

  That is … if Alec decides he wants to be in the baby’s life.

  A free spirit like him might not want an obligation like this.

  My body shivers, and whether it’s from the cold or the reality that there’s a high chance I’m going to be flying completely solo on this mission, I’ll never know.

  “You want to head inside?” he asks, reaching for my ice-cold fingertips and warming them in his hand. “You’re freezing.”

  I nod, waiting as Hudson rises before pulling me up beside him. He turns me to face him, our eyes locking as he cups my chin softly in his hand.

  “What are you doing?” I offer a nervous, breathy laugh.

  “Kissing you,” he says it like it’s a done deal, a non-negotiable declaration of his intentions.

  “Why?”

  His lips draw closer to mine, and I inhale the clean scent of his cologne as it emanates from his warm skin.

  “Because I want to.” His lips skim against mine. “Because I feel like it.” He exhales. “And because I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, and I knew, Mari, that this moment was completely unavoidable.”

  “You’re making this extremely complicated, Hudson.”

  He answers me with a kiss, his lips pressing against mine with an impatient greed, his fingers slipping behind my neck and knotting in my hair as he guides my mouth.

  The lights above the porch on the back of Sea La Vie flick on, illuminating the large expanse of private beach which, a second ago, felt cozy and secluded … a little island of our own.

  I pull away from him.

  “They’re home now.” I gather the beac
h blankets in a hurry. “We should head in.”

  Rinsing my face in the marble sink of my suite bathroom, I blot it dry with a fluffy gray towel before lifting my fingertips to my mouth, tracing the places Hudson’s lips resided moments earlier.

  I don’t know why he’s doing this, but if he keeps it up, it’s not going to end well for any of us. And despite the fact that I’m well aware, I can’t deny how good it feels to be wanted by a man like him.

  Just weeks ago, I used to ruminate about all the reasons I couldn’t stand this man, and now I find myself quietly admiring his confidence and intelligence while I mentally replay that intense night we shared together in his bed.

  Exhaling, I shake my head in the mirror.

  This is wrong.

  I can’t let this go any further—at least not physically.

  A soft knock on my bedroom door sends my heart into a freefall and my thoughts scattering like leaves to the wind.

  Fuck wrong.

  Running across the room, I grab the door handle and pull it wide, unable to wipe the devilish grin off my face.

  “Audrina.” My smile vanishes.

  “You’re pregnant.” She pushes past me, causing the door to swing open and slap against the wall.

  Scrambling to close it, I make sure no one’s in the hall before turning back to her. Hands on my hips, I watch her pacing my room like a crazy person.

  “It makes perfect sense,” she says, though I’m not sure if she’s speaking to me or just thinking out loud. “And it’s the only reason Hudson would marry someone like you so quickly.”

  “Someone like me?” My jaw hangs. I hate this bitch.

  “Plus you’re not drinking. You toasted with fucking water at your engagement party and you haven’t so much as touched a drop of wine all weekend.”

  “I don’t drink.” I shrug, stating it with conviction.

  “Sweetheart, I saw the tattoo on your ankle.” Her tone is smug, and I want to rip that smart-assed smirk off her pretty little face. “You’re not some conservative Mary Poppins.”

  “Tattoos have nothing to do with alcohol,” I say. “And I’m not pregnant, so you can just put your little theory to rest.”

  She stops pacing in front of me, her eyes lowering to my belly.

  For a fraction of a second, I consider flipping up the bottom of my shirt and showing off my still-flat belly, but I won’t lower myself to her level. I don’t have to prove anything to her, and my pregnancy is absolutely none of her business.

  “You’re lying,” she says, eyes all crazy and tightening in on me as her lips pucker.

  “Audrina, it’s late,” I say. “And I’m tired. And I don’t have time for this, so just go.”

  I move to the door, pulling it open and waiting, yawning.

  “Still don’t believe you,” she says as she struts toward me. Stopping, her eyes fall to my stomach once more and she huffs. “You’re so fucking full of shit, and it drives me fucking crazy that I’m the only one who can see right through you.”

  Laughing, I roll my eyes. “Goodnight, Audrina.”

  “They’re going to find out,” she blurts. Or is it a promise?

  “Goodnight, Audrina.”

  Shutting and locking the door behind her, I press my back against the smooth wood and exhale the deep breath I’d held far too long.

  Shit.

  Chapter 23

  Mari

  “We had sex, didn’t we?”

  A man’s voice forces my heart to my stomach as I raid the Rutherfords’ fridge at two in the morning. I’ve spent the better part of the last few hours tossing and turning, my mind refusing to turn off, and if that wasn’t enough, my stomach said now was the perfect time for a late night snack.

  Slamming the fridge door, I see Alec standing on the other side in nothing but low-slung sweats. His hands rest on his hips and he wears a proud smirk.

  “I thought you looked familiar,” he says.

  “I don’t think we should tell Hudson. Not yet.”

  “Psh.” He moves past me, yanking the fridge door open and hunching over as he scans the selections. “Secret’s safe with me. I don’t want things to get weird, you know?”

  “Good. Yeah. Me too,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek. “I mean, he should know eventually. But not yet.”

  “Does he really even need to know at all?” Alec grabs a carton of orange juice, unscrews the cap, and takes a chug before replacing it. As well-bred and old-moneyed as Alec is, he reminds me of a free-spirited frat boy now that I’ve spent more than an hour around him. “Honestly, Mari, and this is not meant to offend you in any way, but I hardly remember that night. I was drunk out of of my mind.”

  “Really? You didn’t seem drunk.”

  “I can hold my liquor,” he says. “Anyway, it was just a fling. Didn’t mean anything. And now you’re marrying one of my best friends. We’re good, right?”

  My jaw falls, and I want to tell him.

  I want to tell him so badly.

  My stomach knots with each passing second.

  The time isn’t right. Not yet.

  “Of course we’re good,” I say, forcing a smile.

  “You should do something about that.” He points to my stomach.

  “What?!” My hands cover my non-existent bump.

  “Your stomach’s growling.”

  “Oh.” I laugh, exhaling. “Right.”

  Grabbing the milk, I move toward the pantry in search of cold cereal.

  “You want some?” I offer a minute later, holding up a box of Frosted Flakes.

  “Frosted Flakes are my jam. It’s like you read my fucking mind, Mari.” He grabs the spoons and bowls and I do the pouring. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll want to be involved in the baby’s life and what kind of team we’d make, but I know better than to have any expectations at all regarding this ironic, messed-up little situation.

  Taking a seat at the breakfast nook, we chow down as we stare off at the midnight waves breaking on the shore.

  “It’s so pretty out here, isn’t it?” I ask. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “You need to get out more.”

  I huff, head tilted. “Wasn’t exactly born with a silver spoon. Didn’t get a black American Express card on my eighteenth birthday.”

  “Contrary to how it must seem, I foot my own travel bills, thankyouverymuch.” His spoon clinks against the bowl. “Or I should say my company does.”

  “What do you even do for a living?”

  “Marketing and social media consultant,” he says. “Basically all these old companies run by eighty year olds hire me to make their business relevant again. Which I do. And they pay me handsomely for it.”

  “Nice.”

  “What do you do?”

  My grip tightens around my spoon. “I can’t say.”

  “What do you mean you can’t say?” He chuckles.

  “I work for someone, helping them with something, but I’m not allowed to discuss it.”

  “Oh.” He nods, scooping some flakes onto his silver. “You signed a non-disclosure.”

  “Exactly.”

  “As long as it’s nothing illegal …” he shakes his head. “There are a lot of unscrupulous people out there, Mari, just waiting to take advantage of nice, young women who only want to help. Or there are assholes who just like to throw money at their problems.”

  I examine Hudson in that context, and I realize that Alec has a point, only Hudson’s asshole ways have seemed to dissipate lately, so there’s that.

  “Anyway.” Alec rises, taking his dishes to the sink before yawning. “Thanks for the cereal. Don’t know about you, but your little party wore me out.”

  Wish I could say the same.

  “Goodnight, Alec,” I say. He waves, turning to leave. “Wait.”

  “Yeah?” He glances over his shoulder.

  “Why’d you tell me your name was Hollis when we first met?”

  “It’s my middle name,” h
e says, lips bunching together as he shrugs. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Tons of people use other names when they hook up.”

  “Yeah, but what if something happened and someone needed to find you again?”

  “Why would anyone need to find me after a hook up? And why would I want anyone to find me after a hook up?” He chuckles, eyes focusing on me in the dark. “That’s the beauty of a one-night stand.”

  “Forget it.” I rise, gathering my dishes. “Goodnight, Alec.”

  Chapter 24

  Hudson

  “I know you knocked her up.” Audrina pokes her finger into my chest, her strong perfume assaulting my senses Monday morning as I close the fridge door and slam my carton of orange juice on the counter.

  “It’s way too early for this shit.” I walk away from her, chuckling to myself. “And I didn’t knock her up.”

  “She’s so pregnant.” Her voice fills the expansive kitchen, echoing off the walls. “It’s ridiculously obvious to anyone with half a brain cell.”

  “Shhh…” I silence her. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Why? You don’t want everyone to know?” Her tongue pokes her inner cheek as she wears a childlike grin.

  “No, because I don’t want you starting unnecessary rumors.” I retrieve a juice glass from a cupboard and fill it to the top. “Mari’s not pregnant. Think I would know.”

  “Why doesn’t she drink?”

  I huff. “Every woman who doesn’t drink is automatically pregnant?”

  Audrina’s brows narrow as she searches for a rebuttal. “Why are you in such a hurry to marry her?”

  “Because I fucking love her.” I take a leisurely sip.

  “But why the rush?”

  “Because I fucking love her,” I repeat.

  “But you’ve always been so anti-marriage,” she says. “Your social life is like a real life version of The Bachelor, only there’s no ring and no proposal at the end and you screw everyone.”

  “I’m not allowed to change?” I lift a brow. She’s quiet. “Your points aren’t valid, Audrina. Please. Stop before you embarrass yourself any further.”