Chapter 4

Hudson

Well, lo and behold. She came to grab coffee with me. Color me not even a little surprised. It’s not like she was going to say no. Not really.

“Straight up black coffee,” she ordered when the barista turned his attention to us. She fidgeted with the strap of her bag and looked out the window to the street beyond.

“For you, sir?” the kid asked, clearly checking Mia out as she diverted her attention to the world outside of the coffee shop.

The cafe was one that was frequented by everyone in the office. She knew it as well as anyone, but she seemed transfixed by every nuance, as if she was determined to look everywhere but at me.

“I’ll have the same,” I told him.

Mia waited to see if I was going to pay. So, I slapped the money for my coffee onto the counter, and the barista turned to Mia expectantly.

She pulled a few bills from her purse, flashed a smile at the barista in thanks, and hurried to a booth in the corner. It was mildly amusing to see the kid melt at Mia’s smile. I winked knowingly at him and turned to follow her.

I couldn’t blame the kid. Mia was hot. Just because I didn’t make a habit of fucking my employees didn’t mean I didn’t notice the ones worth noticing. And Mia was definitely worth noticing.

It wasn’t like I would’ve even gotten fake engaged to her if she wasn’t. Planned or not. I’d already been telling the agents about my fiancée when Mia entered my office. The employee- employer angle for the secrecy and lack of evidence of a relationship was too perfect to pass up.

Mia slid into a booth at the back of the coffee shop, collected her thoughts, and squared her shoulders. She looked different somehow. More ferocious. Less submissive. I’d always suspected that I intimidated her, but it was clear she’d shed whatever layer that was there.

“What’s this all about, Hudson? Why did you just lie to the authorities?” She cut right to the chase. Her voice was low, albeit forceful. Her navy-blue eyes held a determined edge. Her full lips pressed into the tight line of a thoroughly pissed off woman.

“How much do you know about me?”

I quickly assessed the situation and concluded that the fastest way of getting the answer I required from her was to start from the beginning. To tell her what she needed to know about me and get fucking married.

I nearly shivered at the thought, but I wasn’t going back to Santo Via Island, and I wasn’t losing my company. A temporary marriage to fulfill the ultimate goal was nothing but a minor inconvenience.

“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. Your name is Hudson Blake, you’re thirty-three. You’re the co-founder of one of the biggest music labels around, and you’ve got a bit of an alpha problem.”

I bit back a laugh. An alpha problem? How was that a problem?

She was feisty, this one. I kind of liked it. Maybe it wouldn’t be completely unbearable to be fake married to her, however briefly it might be. “Is that it?”

“Why does it look like you’re about to laugh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh.” Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t funny, Hudson.”

“It’s not. You, on the other hand, might just be. I laugh. Sometimes. You really think I have an alpha problem?”

“Yup, and I think you know it.”

“I just know what I want, and I get it. How is that a problem?” My brows furrowed. There was no amusement in my tone anymore.

I expected her to shy away from me. She didn’t.

She held my gaze without wavering. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. You asked me what I know about you, and I gave you a straight answer.”

“I can respect that,” I said. “Just so you know, I always get what I want, and I definitely don’t consider that to be a problem.” I sat back, taking a sip of my coffee and watching her expression change as she considered the meaning of my last sentence.

“And right now, what you want is a wife. An American one, presumably. Why?”

“I’m from Santo Via Island. I have to get a green card. Fast. An American wife can get me that.” If she was cutting straight the chase, so was I.

“I figured as much. Why me?” Something changed in her eyes, and she set her jaw in grim determination.

“It doesn’t have to be you, Mia. I can find someone else if you’d prefer.” I might have an alpha problem in her mind, but I wasn’t forcing an employee to marry me. We were in the twenty-first century for Christ’s sake.

“You already told INS you were marrying me. If you suddenly marry someone else, they’ll know you lied, Hudson. They’ll know you’re lying.” She sighed.

She was telling the truth, and I knew it. Perhaps I should’ve left the identity of my future wife to their imaginations for the moment, but I hadn’t.

“That’s true. Look, Mia, this doesn’t have to be a big deal. Or a real marriage. We can get married in front of a justice of the peace, stay together until immigration gets off my back, and then we’ll get a divorce.”

“Not a big deal?” she whisper-yelled. If nothing else, I appreciated her discretion. “You’re talking about getting married, Hudson. It’s a big fucking deal, and it’s not happening.”

Not a problem. I’d closed more than my fair share of deals in my life. I was simply in the middle of another negotiation. “It’s a wedding, Mia, followed by a brief period of cohabitation. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. It’s not going to be. There’s got to be something you want that can make this happen. What is it?”

She blinked, paled, then met my eyes in a gaze nearly as calculating as I imagined mine was. She took a few deep, measured breaths. “The only way I’ll even consider going along with your charade is if you promise me Maxwell’s job when he retires next month.”

“There’s no way. Forget about that. Something else.”

I’d said it to Henry, and I’d say it again—I wasn’t paying someone else to do that man’s work. I was more than capable of doing it myself.

Her eyes swept mine, evidently finding whatever answer she’d been searching for. “Well then, I think we’re done here. I hope I’ll still be seeing you at work tomorrow, Mr. Blake.”

Mia gathered her bag and coffee cup, nodded goodbye, and turned to leave. I waited for her to reconsider or to come back to me with another offer.

She didn’t.

Without another look at me, her long curly blonde hair floated behind her as she walked out the door and let it fall shut behind her.

Well, fuck me sideways. Mia wasn’t who I thought she was. And that didn’t happen very often.

I sighed, heaved myself to my feet, and headed out after her. I’d warned her. I got what I wanted. She wasn’t the first person who’d stormed out on me during contract negotiations. I’d be damned if I’d let her be the last.

I preferred the calmer, more direct approach to negotiating, but I also knew how to deal with adversaries who were more emotional.

“Mia, wait,” I called out after her, exiting the coffee shop to clouds rolling in from the river.

She paused as I caught up to her and wrapped my fingers around her delicate wrist.

“What?” she asked. “Have you reconsidered already?” Her eyes betrayed her hopefulness and her insecurity.

The truth was if anyone deserved that job, it was her. I would never admit it out loud, however. “I can’t promise you the job, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I want better than that, Hudson. I want assurances. This is marriage you’re proposing, even if it won’t be real. It will be real to everyone who knows us. To my family, your family. The authorities.” She hissed, her gaze unwavering.

“Okay, if it’s assurances you want, I can give you assurances.” I knew I had her. “If you don’t get the job, I’ll pay you a million dollars to become my wife. Wired to an account of your choice on the date of our divorce. That way, it will be part of your settlement, and no one will think twice about it.”

“A million bucks, huh? So, you can’t give me the promotion you and I both know I deserve, but you think you can buy me? What do I look like to you, a prostitute?”

“Think about what a million dollars can do for you, Mia.”

“I’ll think about it.” I could see it in her eyes—she’d already made her decision. All I had to do was wait for her to tell me.

I let go of her wrist and let her walk away.