Catch - Deborah Bladon Page 0,44

with short-cropped blond hair scoots around me and slides onto the backseat.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask, with frustration laced into my tone. “This is my cab.”

I don’t have time for this bullshit. I’m going to be late for the party if I have to argue with this inconsiderate fool.

“It’s mine,” he says curtly. “I’m in a hurry, so kindly step away from the car.”

“Get out of that car.” The deep, velvet voice of a man sounds behind me. “Now, Hudson.”

I turn to look at the man now standing next to me. He’s tall with brown hair. He’s dressed impeccably in a dark blue designer suit with a light blue tie. He’s ridiculously handsome.

“No.” Hudson crosses his arms over his chest. “Shut the door. I’m leaving.”

The stranger leans into the car to speak to the driver. “Give us a minute.”

The driver shrugs and then nods.

“Out.” The suited stranger says. “Get out, Hudson.”

“Or what?” The rude jerk shakes his head.

The stranger rests one hand on the roof of the taxi as he talks to the jerk. “What the fuck is that? Are you five-years-old?”

I let out a laugh. I should be looking for another cab, but I want to see how this plays out.

“This cab is going nowhere other than this woman’s destination.” The handsome stranger smiles at me. “Give me a minute more, and you’ll be on your way.”

I nod silently.

Hudson finally drags himself out of the car. “I paid you once to help me, William. You don’t get to call me out whenever you want.”

William steps back to allow Hudson to move around me. “If you’re acting like a selfish bastard, I sure as hell will call you out.”

An obviously frustrated Hudson drags a hand over his head. “Where did you come from anyway? I didn’t see you walking down the sidewalk before I got in the cab?”

“You were too busy thinking about yourself to notice anyone else.” William picks a piece of lint off the shoulder of Hudson’s sweater. “Apologize to this woman and offer to pay her fare.”

“That’s not necessary,” I interject. “I’m fine paying for my fare.”

“I have no doubt about that.” William turns to me. “Hudson cost you valuable time, and he was a dick, so he’s paying as a small way to make amends.”

I glance at Hudson. He’s nodding. “It’s the right thing to do. I’m sorry, Miss. I got dumped yesterday and I love her, and I guess…”

“Save that for me.” William pats him on the shoulder. “I’ll buy you a drink at the bar on the corner. You can tell me all about it.”

I smile at William. “Thank you.”

As soon as Hudson has handed the cab driver a few bills, William offers his hand to help me get into the car. “I hope that wherever you’re headed, you’ll have the time of your life tonight.”

I slide into the car, hoping for the same thing.

Chapter 32

Keats

I dropped my carry-on as soon as I got inside my townhouse. I raced to shave, shower, and put on a suit before I ran out the door.

I didn’t even have time to stop by to see if Stevie approved of my outfit.

It’s a dark gray suit, a light blue button-down shirt, and a tie with a dark blue diamond pattern. I look good. Mary would give it a big thumbs-up. I hope Maren does too.

I sprint around the corner on my way to the venue.

Howerton House is one of those landmarks that people flock to when they have a wedding, a milestone birthday, or they want to impress their friends. It’s a centuries old building in midtown that’s been converted into several event spaces.

I have no idea if the Newmans are looking to make anyone jealous tonight, but the garden terrace offers a full circle view of this majestic city.

I’ve been on that roof more times than I can count. Tonight is the first time I’ve had goddamn butterflies in my stomach as I approach the building.

A jolt of something inside of me turns me to the left.

I stop in place when a cab drives by because I see her. I see the most beautiful woman in all of Manhattan sitting in the back seat.

Maren is peering out the window. Her gaze is locked on the building.

I’m not going to complain about that. If she were looking at me, I have no doubt that she’d see how fucking nervous I am.

That has nothing to do with Fletcher Newman, and everything to do with Maren.

I sprint the last