He needed a minute to himself. I got that. He had the same effect on me.
I walked out, finding Jordan waiting with the Maybach.
“Good evening, Ms. Withers. I’m sorry to say that you missed your flight.”
I winked. “Another time, I suppose.”
I slid in the car, crossing to the opposite window to leave space for Hudson. While I waited, I turned on the new phone Hudson had given me. I smiled at the front screen wallpaper—it was a publicity picture of us kissing from the fashion show I’d attended with him. Scrolling through my contacts, I could tell that he’d managed to transfer my number and all my personal data to the new phone.
After a minute, the phone buzzed to notify me of incoming texts. I had seventeen in all. I scrolled through them, finding most were from Hudson, one from Brian—probably from before he’d found out my phone had broken.
My brow furrowed as I saw two texts from an unknown number. I opened the first one. “The video file is too big for text. Text me if you want to see it in person.”
Confused, I scrolled to the next text from that number. “Btw, this is Stacy from Mirabelle’s.”
Ah, Stacy. She’d told me she had some proof about Hudson and Celia. Some reason not to trust her.
I laughed to myself. Too little, too late. Whatever proof Stacy had that Celia was a bitch was completely unnecessary. I’d learned the hard way.
Though it did pique my curiosity.
“Everything okay?” Hudson asked as he slipped in the backseat next to me.
“Everything’s perfect.” I dimmed my phone and stuck it in my bra. The outside world didn’t hold a spark of interest to me when I had Hudson beside me. I was beginning to see that he might be there for a long time. He was right—we were connected. Nothing could break us apart. I was convinced of that now.
I buckled my seatbelt then settled into the crook of his arm thinking perfect was something I could get used to.