The Charmer (Harbor City 2)
Page 4
Yeah, she’d just delivered a metaphorical swift kick to the nuts. But Hudson would get back up. He always did—it was part of his charm.
Chapter Two
Back in jeans at the ant lab the next afternoon, surrounded by her favorite creatures, Felicia felt her shoulders inch down from where they’d lodged up by her ears since her run-in with the too-charming-for-anyone’s-good Hudson Carlyle. The man and his so-called offer to help her win over Tyler had burrowed under her skin and burned like a fire ant’s bite the whole night.
Being back in the cubicle farm, not so unlike an ant colony, she settled into her chair and waited for her computer to boot up. Just as she took a sip of Earl Grey from her You Had Me at Ants travel mug, her boss Eddie Sledge stopped next to her cubicle, a sheen of sweat making the top of his bald head shiny. Her muscles tensed. A glistening dome always meant trouble—usually from the higher ups.
“There you are, Felicia,” Eddie said, his voice unnaturally loud and his eye doing that weird twitch thing that happened whenever he was nervous.
“What’s up?” Whatever it was, it better not concern her because she had work to do. Not that she’d ever say that out loud. But she’d think it at shouting volume.
Eddie’s left eye twitched. “We have a special guest with us this morning who wants to get a tour of the ant lab in general and of your honeypot ant research colonies specifically.”
The pop of excitement at the idea of someone else who loved honeypots was tempered by the reality of her workload. It wasn’t all fieldwork and data collection. She had to get published—the true currency of power in any scientific field. She may be down to one item on her do-it-by-thirty list, but she was already tackling the items on her to-do-by-thirty-five list, and those included becoming a peer reviewer for the Journal of Myrmecology. To do that she had to get published—and often—so the editors would think of her when they refreshed the review board as they always did in three-year cycles. After that, she’d be one step closer to joining the journal’s scientific advisory board, which was key to moving from researcher at the ant lab to department head someday.
“I’m behind already on the article I’m putting together to submit to the Journal of Myrmecology because of the fundraiser last night.”
“I understand.” Eddie’s head bopped up and down in a staccato beat. “But this guest…well, he could really help out the lab.”
That answer meant only one thing. “He has deep pockets, huh?”
“And you know funding isn’t what it used to be.”
No, it sure wasn’t. As grants became tougher to get, and other funding sources dried up, getting the money to run a stellar program like the Harbor City Museum of Natural History Ant Lab had become a full-time job for Eddie, which explained the rapid hair loss. And God knew she needed the practice keeping her blue-collar opinions to herself when she was around the well-heeled elite if she ever wanted to run the department.
Of course, that wasn’t normally a problem. Last night’s slip had been because of the champagne she’d shotgunned, obviously. Taking a deep breath, she made up her mind not to mess up this opportunity.
“Okay,” she said, setting down her travel mug next to her messenger bag stuffed with notes. “Who’s the sucker?”
“Me,” a deep voice said, filtering from just outside of Felicia’s cubicle.
She froze. That voice. It was one she’d heard all night telling her that he could help her get the man she’d always wanted. Hudson Carlyle. The butterflies in her stomach split up into Team Annoyance and Team Anticipation as she turned and saw him watching her from over the top of her cubicle—the one she couldn’t see over even when she stood on her tiptoes.
“Mr. Carlyle,” Eddie squeaked. “I didn’t realize you were so close.”
“I studied with an elite group of ninjas for years,” Hudson said with a straight face, coming around to stand next to Eddie in the doorway. “Old habits die hard.”
In jeans that probably cost more than her monthly grocery bill, a dark green cashmere sweater that would cover her electric bill—but perfectly set off the flecks of green in his brown eyes—and with his light brown hair artfully messed up, he looked delicious. If Felicia went for that hot rich guy with too much charm, which she most definitely did not. Forget broad shoulders, hard abs—she could tell even if they were covered—and an ass that was made for a beefcake calendar, she cared about what was inside a person, not the sexy facade.
So, you’re admitting he’s sexy, Hartigan?
She wasn’t dead, just smarter than the average socialite he probably banged and forgot about, and therefore she was able to see through his lame attempt to torment her some more.
“You’re the one who wants to learn more about the honeypot ant?” she asked, tight and quiet and trying her hardest to keep her disbelief to herself. And obviously failing, from the way Eddie’s eyes went wide and the shine on his head actually got brighter.
The sexy grin on Hudson’s face transformed into more of a smolder as he gave her a slow up and down that sent Team Anticipation into kamikaze spins.
“Honeypots,” he said, pausing for effect after the word. “have always fascinated me.”
Internally, she rolled her eyes and fought to keep her words steady and firm. “I’m sure there are plenty of places where you can study up.”
“But none quite as good as the natural history museum,” Eddie said in a rush, narrowing his eyes at her. “Our facility is head and thoraxes above other research facilities. Aren’t we, Dr. Hartigan?”
Eating her groan at his horrible ant pun, she nodded in agreement. “Without a doubt.”
“Then I can’t wait to discover all of your secrets.” Hudson held out his hand toward Eddie, who shook it. “Thanks for helping to set this up, man. I really appreciate it. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for the lab at the next Carlyle Foundation meeting.”
Eddie swallowed the pr