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CHAPTER ONE
Hudson St. James pulled on his suit coat, then sat back down in his seat, eager to disembark after the final stretch of the flight from Bali, Indonesia to New York City. It had been a long trip by way of Dubai, and all he wanted was to get home and sleep in his own bed.
Some might say that he was privileged to be able to jet around the world, sometimes in private jets, visiting the exclusive hotels and resorts belonging to Remington Properties International. And while he’d agree that he got to travel to some beautiful places, it was rare that he could actually enjoy his time at those locations, since he was always there on business.
Hudson gazed tiredly out the window next to his seat, taking in the familiar sight of JFK International as the plane taxied toward the terminal. Though he’d had the opportunity and space to stretch out, he never slept well on commercial flights, despite travelling in luxurious first-class suites. So he was arriving exhausted and jetlagged.
He slept better when he travelled on the company’s private jet, but his father rarely approved that unless it was for a short trip somewhere in the US or not much further into Europe than London or Paris. Alexander Remington preferred to keep the jet available for his own use, or for his wife and their kids if they needed to fly somewhere.
As he left the plane, Hudson nodded at the flight attendants, who were lined up near the exit. He pulled his wheeled carryon up the jetway, then into the airport at large. He’d been in and out of the airport often enough that he knew exactly where he was going.
Sometimes, he drove himself to the airport and left his vehicle in long-term parking. But he’d been gone for over three weeks, so he’d used a company driver to drop him off, and there’d be one waiting to pick him up.
He didn’t have to wait too long for his bags, then he left the terminal. The driver had texted him where he was waiting, so Hudson had no trouble finding the car.
“Welcome home, Mr. St. James,” the man said with a broad smile as Hudson approached.
“Thanks, John. I appreciate you picking me up.”
The man gave him a nod as he took Hudson’s bags and put them into the trunk of the car. “You’re welcome.”
Most of the time, the drivers would say something about it being their job. John, however, always responded withyou’re welcome,which Hudson appreciated.
As he settled into the back seat, John climbed behind the wheel. “How was your trip?”
“Very long,” Hudson said.
“Can you imagine if you had to take a boat instead of a plane?”
As John drove him to his apartment, they talked about the various forms of travel that had evolved over the years. The older man was a font of information, and their conversations never failed to entertain Hudson. He was always glad when John was the one who picked him up.
When they reached Hudson’s apartment building, John offered to carry his bags, but Hudson declined his help. He thanked the man again for picking him up, then made his way to the building entrance.
Hudson greeted both the man behind the reception desk and the security guard by name, but he didn’t linger to chat like he might have on a different day. His remaining energy was seeping out of him, and all he wanted was to reach his apartment and shut the world away.
Taking the elevator to the top floor, he then stepped out into the small foyer that led to his front door. There was one other apartment on that floor, but it was rare that he ran into his neighbor. The building was owned by Remington Properties, and the apartment was a perk of his job.
There were times he wished he had a place of his own, but for the time being, he was just saving up a large part of his salary until he felt the urge to buy. That meant the apartment wasn’t really decorated to his liking, but the amenities were nice.
As he stepped into the apartment, Hudson knew immediately, by the fresh scent in the air rather than staleness, that the housecleaner had been there, which wasn’t a surprise, really. She usually cleaned on Fridays, and since it was Saturday, it made sense that she’d been there recently. His food prep chef should also have dropped food off the previous day, so at least he wasn’t going to starve.
He headed for the bedroom to drop off his bags and to take a shower. After a long day of travel, it was necessary. He’d barely draped his suit coat across the foot of his bed and loosened his tie when his phone rang.
The temptation washugeto just ignore the call, but since it was his father’s ringtone, Hudson knew he couldn’t do that. The fact that he’d barely stepped foot into his apartment made Hudson wonder, once again, how closely his father monitored his comings and goings.
With a sigh, Hudson grabbed his phone where he’d dropped it on the bed and tapped the screen to accept the call. Making his way over to the windows that filled much of the wall, Hudson said, “Hudson speaking.”
“How did the Asia trip go?” Alexander asked.
Hudson had sent him a report, and he was sure the man had read it. Even so, he dutifully gave him an abbreviated version of the report. As he did, he stared out at the city beyond the window, taking in the gray day, which sort of suited his current mood.
“I need you to go to our Serenity Point property,” Alexander said after Hudson had finished his verbal report.
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
Hudson closed his eyes for a moment, then ran his hand through his hair. He wanted to protest, but he knew that would be useless. Alexander might be his father, but he played the role of boss better.
