"I can lie," he says finally. "Would you object to one final dinner with my parents? Really lay it on thick. Give them a good memory before the story changes. Not yet, just if they get too suspicious."
I take a breath. One more dinner. One more performance. Then I'm done.
"If I have to, I can. I won’t be living in LA.”
He smiles. “Yeah. Just answer my calls, Harper. Don’t ignore me again.”
Holds out his hand, and I just stare at it.
"Then I accept. You can leave today. No notice period," he tells me.
The exit is right there, wide open, and everything I want is on the other side of it. It’s almost too good to be true.
I place my hand in his. He shakes it, and then he steps back and tucks both hands into his pockets again.
"You'll be missed here, Harper."
I give him a small smile. Already backing toward the door. Already breathing easier.
"Thank you, Hudson. I hope you do this company proud for your father. He deserves it."
For a split second, standing in that office with the skyline behind him and the ring sitting on his desk like something discarded, I feel sorry for him. Even if he is a lying, manipulative, deal-making asshole, he's still a man watching the only person willing to play his game walk out the door.
Then I remember who I'm going home to, and the feeling passes.
I walk out. Grab my purse from the desk. Samantha is watching me with her mouth open. I give her a wink and mouthquit while you can.She gives me a thumbs up and looks like she might cry.
I don't look back.
I push through the glass doors into the stairwell and take the steps two at a time because the elevator is too slow for the speed at which I need to leave this building. I hit the street and the LA sun hits my face and the air fills my lungs, and I keep walking, fast, faster, until I reach my car and slam the door shut behind me.
It's like a weight being cut from my chest. Tears roll down my cheeks. I don't even bother to wipe them.
The first thing I do is call Ace.
He answers fast. Not quite his usual lightning speed. There's a pause before his voice comes through, and when it does, something is wrong.
"Hi, baby." His voice is strained.
I sit up straighter. "Ace? Are you okay?"
He does a sharp inhale, as if he’s trying to pull himself together for me.
"Not really, sweetheart."
My stomach drops. I’ve only ever heard him like this twice in my life. When his mom died, and when we split up.
"What happened?"
He's quiet for a beat too long. I can hear something in the background.
"Ace. Talk to me."
"It's Paulie." His voice cracks on the name. Just barely. A fracture he tries to seal before I hear it, but I hear it. "He's gone, Harper."
The air leaves my car.
"Gone?" I whisper.
