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“Or a stage magician,” I repeat.
Her mother shakes her head at Summer. “After yesterday, you should not be joking around about this. Especially not here. I almost lost you for good. They could take you away from me and put you in juvenile detention. They still might. Do you understand that? Stealing is not okay.”
Summer sighs, and her shoulders slump.
Paxton’s phone bleeps and he looks at it. “Mr. Hudson has returned. We’ve got five minutes,” he tells us, so we scarf down our food quickly.
Then one of the uniformed greeters comes over and ushers us to a fancy private elevator. The interior is red velvet with gold swirls.
It whooshes us so fast that my stomach turns to water. We soar up past the floors that are open to the public and end up on a private floor, where we’re walked down the hallway and into a comically large office.
Mr. Blake Hudson himself is sitting behind a beautiful desk with hand-carved legs. The word Hudson’s is carved into the face of the desk. On the wall are vintage posters of celebrities from the 1940s through the 1970s, all shopping at Hudson’s.
Blake Hudson is an intimidatingly handsome man, wearing a custom-tailored black suit and red tie, with a stern look on his face. If I weren’t with Paxton, and if Blake Hudson weren’t married, I’d think that he was scary-hot.
There’s a wedding portrait of him and his redheaded wife, Winona, up on the wall, and he looks much happier in that picture than he does right now. I feel that bittersweet ache of longing again. I can tell just by looking at them that she brings out the best in him, that he’s a better man because of her.
There are four chairs lined up in front of the desk, facing Mr. Hudson.
Standing next to Mr. Hudson is a tall man with a military-looking gray crewcut, wearing a dark navy-blue suit and a serious expression.
“Hello, I’m Blake Hudson.” Blake stands up and leans across the desk, holding out his hand to shake Rayelle’s hand. She does so, and then he holds his hand out to Summer. She hesitates and glances nervously at her mother. Her mother nods, so she shakes his hand politely.
“Pleased to meet you,” she murmurs.
“Likewise. And this is my chief of security, Antoine Martin.” Antoine’s face is impassive as a stone statue.
Summer gives her mother a look of alarm.
“Recently, Summer visited my establishment and attempted to leave with some of my merchandise, without paying for it. This time, we intercepted her. My understanding is that she’s successfully managed to shoplift from us several times in the past,” Blake continues.
Summer’s face goes pale. She swallows hard. Rayelle looks as if she’s about to cry.
“I can pay you back,” she says despairingly, but we all know she can’t. I shoot Paxton a look and nudge him with my foot. We can’t let anyone take Summer away from Rayelle. I will fight them on this.
“I have a proposal for you,” Mr. Hudson says. He gestures at the chairs. “Please, have a seat.”
Rayelle gives him a narrow-eyed look, and we all sit down in the chairs facing the desk. “I’m listening,” she says cautiously.
“Well, as I said, from reviewing our security footage, we have discovered that your daughter has visited this establishment on a number of occasions,” Blake says.
“Oh, that will never happen again,” Rayelle says hastily.
“Well, we’ll see. Here’s the thing. She’s actually very good at what she does. I cannot allow her, or anyone, to steal from my store, but I’d like to give her a chance for her to use her powers for good rather than evil.”
I look at Rayelle in confusion, and she looks back with equal bewilderment.
Mr. Hudson shoves a piece of paper across the desk towards them. “This is an offer of employment,” he said.
“You... want me to work here?” Rayelle looks at him skeptically.
“Actually, I want your daughter to work here, with you in attendance, of course. But if you’re looking for a job, our café is hiring. We pay well and have excellent benefits. Tips are very good here, too.”
“I don’t understand,” she says. “Why would you possibly want to hire my daughter? For what?’
I glance at Paxton, and he shrugs and smiles at me.
Blake leans forward and makes a tent of his fingers. “I want your daughter to show me how she’s managed to successfully steal items from this store. And I want her to evaluate any gaps we have in our security system. Yes, we have a top-notch team, but we have been outwitted on multiple occasions by a twelve-year-old girl.”
