Lindsay

The lobby of the Imperial building was as imposing as it was beautiful. It was obvious to me that I didn’t belong, and I was sure the others milling around the area realized it too. An older, portly gentleman opened the door for me, bending his head. “Good morning, miss.”

“Uh, hi.” I walked through the doorway and stood hesitantly for a moment. “I’m here to meet Mr. Hudson. I guess I’ll be staying here. I mean…” I trailed off with a shrug, not sure what else to say.

“Wonderful. My name is Bill, Miss…?”

“Valentine, but please call me Lindsay.”

He nodded again. “Thank you, Miss Lindsay. Go straight to the door marked Security down the hallway. I’m certain Mr. Hudson will have left the information with the office, and they’ll process you.”

That sounded official and slightly daunting. Managing a shaky smile, I thanked him and turned in the direction he pointed. I found the security office easily enough and opened the door gingerly. When I stepped inside, a blond man in a dark uniform looked up from his bank of monitors and frowned at me.

I cleared my throat. “Bill sent me here.”

He looked impatient. “I see that. For what?”

“Mr. Hudson is expecting me. I’m the new nanny, I guess.”

He arched a brow. “You guess?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s a done deal, but um… maybe it’s an interview.”

He slid his chair to reach a computer and typed for a moment. “Nope, looks like you got the job. Here you are. Mr. Hudson has requested the full-access package for you. Let’s get you set up. ID?”

He waved me over, and I spent the next few minutes obeying his instructions. He took a picture, recorded information about me, and finished up by having me place my hand on a panel. “What is this?”

“It’s taking a biometric print of your hand to allow you easy access through security checkpoints.”

Hesitantly, I pressed my palm fully against the black panel. “Will it hurt?”

“Nope.” He pressed a button on the computer.

With a brief flash of light that reminded me of the scanner on my computer at home, it zipped down the length of my palm. No pain.

“All set.”

I lifted my hand and had barely done so when he held out a plastic badge to me. I looked down at my picture, which wasn’t half as terrible as the one on my school ID card. My name was printed there, along with Mr. Hudson’s address and apartment number, and the designation of “Staff.”

“You can go on up. You’ll be able to access the elevators with your palm. Mr. Hudson lives on the sixty-sixth floor.”

“Sixty-six? The whole floor?” I asked, reading it from the ID card.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t seem inclined to answer and was already returning to his bank of security cameras. With a small shrug, I left the office and re-entered the lobby.

The bank of elevators was easy to find, and I figured out the biometric panel easily enough. When I stepped inside, the elevator was the nicest I’d ever seen, with its glossy black tile floors and chrome walls. There was a tasteful painting mounted to the wall, and an electronic billboard on the side that seemed to list monthly events at the Imperial—which was far too fancy to have handwritten signs or a corkboard in the lobby.

The ride was faster than I expected, even with stopping twice on different floors to collect passengers, and I was standing in front of sixty-six all too soon. The process of getting cleared by security had temporarily dispelled some of my nervousness, but it came back in spades as I lifted my hand to ring the bell.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and blotted my sweaty palm against the side of my black skirt before lifting my hand to try again. This time, my finger connected with the ringer, and I pressed it with another swallow. It had barely finished ringing when a young woman in a black and white uniform opened the ornate door. Her expression of relief was disconcerting.

“Oh, hello! You must be Ms. Valentine.”

“Yes.”

“Come in. Did you bring luggage? If so, I can put it in your room while you’re greeting Miss Elle.”

“No, I didn’t! I wasn’t sure if I was staying.”

The woman’s face fell. “You’re not taking the job? Oh, but you must. Miss Elle has been so much easier to deal with since Mr. Hudson told her last night that you’re coming to live here.”

“Oh. I just wasn’t sure if I was hired or not. I didn’t…” I trailed off as the woman gestured for me to come inside. “Anyway, I guess I’ll bring my things later today.”

She beamed. “That’s wonderful. They’re both in Miss Elle’s room, and I’ll show you the way.”

I followed the maid, asking, “What’s your name?” as we walked.

“I’m Betsy. I’ve been with the Hudsons for almost three years.”

“Were you here during the divorce?”

Betsy hesitated to answer.

“Sorry to ask that. I shouldn’t have.”

The other woman shrugged. “It’s natural to be curious, especially since you knew Mrs. Hudson before, didn’t you?” At my nod, she said, “I can’t say much, but it wasn’t a pretty separation. It was hard on Miss Elle, but also on Mr. Hudson too.”

“I’m sure. What kind of problems is Elle having?”

“I’ll have Mr. Hudson fill you in, Miss Lindsay.”

“Just Lindsay please.” I stopped when Betsy did, waiting as the other woman knocked before opening the door.

It took every scrap of courage I had to step inside when I heard Ben—Mr. Hudson’s—voice. I braced myself to face him, telling myself I was over the crush.

I believed that until I stepped into the room and got my first sight of him in so many years. God, he was as gorgeous as ever. If I remembered correctly, he would be thirty-four, and the first trace of gray graced his temples. It just made him sexier than ever.

The lines may be deeper on his face, but they didn’t detract a single bit from his handsomeness. They just underscored how hard the past few years had been on him. A concern I had no right to have, I reminded myself as I took a hesitant step forward.

“Hello, Mr. Hudson.” Why was it so hard to get out a simple greeting?

He inclined his head, his expression inscrutable. “Hello, Lindsay. Elle, your nanny is here,” he called over his shoulder.

A moment later, Elle emerged from what I presumed was a walk-in closet. She seemed just as shy with me as I felt around Ben…Mr. Hudson. “Hi, sweetie.”

Elle hesitated for another half-second before running across the room and throwing herself against me. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Lindsay.” She whispered the words before burying her face against my stomach.

“Me too, Elle.” I patted her back as I said the words. They were the right thing to say, but I didn’t know if they were true yet. I was glad to help Elle if I could, but I didn’t know if being in the Hudsons’ apartment was a good idea. I clearly wasn’t over the crush I’d had on Mr. Hudson, which was more dangerous than ever. Even if he didn’t feel the same, and how could he—he shouldn’t!—I could still get my heart broken from the desperate hope and the disappointment which was inevitable.