Richard laughs, and it turns into a cough he tries to suppress. Audrey's hand goes to his back instantly.
"A journalist. And one who keeps him in line." Richard's eyes twinkle. "I like you already."
"Where are you from, dear?" Audrey threads her arm through mine. "I'm hearing something in your voice."
"Arizona. A small town called New Falls. My family has a little ranch there."
Our family's ranch is tiny compared to Ace’s. Sterling Ranch spans quite literally most of the land in New Falls. It is a beautiful place, especially that one ridge where the sunrise is perfect. And somewhere there, are our initials carved into a post.
"A ranch." Audrey turns to Hudson with undisguised delight. "A ranch girl, Hudson. You managed to find the one genuine woman in all of Los Angeles."
Hudson's smile is fixed. "She's one of a kind."
"I grew up around horses and cattle," I continue, selecting the truths that serve the story. The wholesome, girl-next-door version of Harper that Hudson brought me here to sell. "My parents still run the ranch. I moved to LA for school and fell in love with journalism. I think my dad met you at a networking event a few years ago, you gave me a job after that. "
"Oh, of course. I remember now, how is Tony?" Richard says, with a wry smile that suggests he’s trying to recall the story.
"He’s good. Busy with his own ranch now, gave up on the small town journalism a while ago."
It's the truest thing I've said all night. Hudson's hand tightens on my waist.
They ask about my family, my childhood, whether I cook, and whether I've ever ridden a bull. That in itself makes me pause, because the only bull rider I care about is the one who still owns my heart.
"This one's lost interest in the editorial side." Nodding at Hudson. "All about the numbers now. Themetrics." He says theword like it tastes bad. "But a company like this needs a soul, Harper. Promise me you'll keep caring about the story."
I meet his eyes. The performance falls away. "I promise."
He nods.
"She's wonderful, Hudson," Audrey says, kissing her son's cheek. "Don't let this one go."
"I don't intend to," Hudson replies, and there's something in his voice, a thread of sincerity that scares me.
It makes my skin crawl.
They excuse themselves, and as soon as they're out of earshot, I step out of Hudson's grip and exhale.
"That went well," he says.
"Your parents are lovely."
"They liked you."
"I liked them. Your father, especially." I set my glass down. "He actually cares about journalism."
Something flickers behind Hudson's eyes. A crack in the mask. For a moment, I think I see grief underneath.
Then it's gone.
"Thank you for tonight, Harper. We can leave whenever you're ready. My parents are too busy entertaining to care what we’re doing now. But we may need to arrange a dinner with them soon, to really seal the deal."
I blink at him. “That wasn’t…”
He shrugs. “Okay. New deal. You keep this arrangement up with me, and I’ll give you a lead on whatever stories you want to follow. There is one I know you’re going to die for, Harper.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Die for? How good is it?”
He loosens his tie and lets out a breath. “We will discuss it on Monday. It’s back at New Falls.”
