Filthy Boss

“At the airport, we discussed how this is a vacation. I thought that implied no business.”

“Then, what is it that we’re doing? You and me… This is business.”

I chewed on my lower lip. I hated to think that the only reason I was here was because Hudson wanted to do business with me. It made my stomach turn. It made me irrationally angry, and I couldn’t figure out why.

“But you never mentioned any business before we got on the flight. What changed?”

“Well, while you were peacefully sleeping in the back, I got a call from a client that he needed to crunch some numbers. I thought that, since we were in the area, it wouldn’t be a problem. Besides, I'm not sure you get to demand things of this trip.”

“I'm sorry? I never asked for a trip. I requested dinner, which you agreed to.”

He looked at me. “And here we are at dinner.”

As always, I was allowing Hudson to get under my skin. There was just something about him; he was like an itch I couldn't scratch. And he drove me crazy.

“Why do I bother you so much?”

I scowled at him. “I don't know, because you're pompous and arrogant? And because you think you own everything, including women.”

The shock was written all over his face. “You're honest.”

“And you’re rude. You think that money can make anything possible.”

Now, he was starting to raise his voice. An older French couple behind him had stopped talking. “Money can fix everything. It makes things better, makes it so you don't have to feel anything about anyone. I can buy your time, and when we get back to the states, I can never talk to you again, and money does that for me.”

“And why is that so horrible? Why is dating a girl properly, spending time with her, and being friendly so difficult for you?”

“There are just some things you don't understand.”

“Then help me to. You bring me here, and you don't even wait for me to get off the plane before you’re gone. I'm in a new place that I've never been before, I'm terrified of what might happen, and you don't care.”

I thought he would get up and walk away. But he just sat there, dumbfounded, like no one had ever spoken to him like this in his entire life.

“So, I don't know how to treat people well. Is there anything else?”

I folded my hands in my lap, and looked down at the beautiful satin napkin that was lying there. “I'm sorry. This is all a little overwhelming for me, and I shouldn't have said that. I just didn't expect you to leave. I didn’t really expect any of this.”

He shook his head. “No one has ever asked me to stay.”

He reached for his wine glass. I put my hand on his, and stopped him. “I'm asking you to. Does that mean anything?”

He left his hand there beneath mine, the heat growing between them. “Yes it does. I’m sorry about the plane. I thought a girl like you could handle herself. I didn’t feel the need to babysit you. But I can, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m not being childish.”

“I didn’t say you were. I didn’t invite a child to dinner, I invited a feisty woman who I simply met at a bar.”

I pulled my hand away, and set my lips into a thin smile. “Well, then, I guess you should order. For the both of us, because I have no idea what anything on this menu is.”

He smiled, and it lightened the mood. He called the waiter over, and ordered a something I couldn't pronounce, but sounded delicious. Something with fish and I liked seafood.

“Why France? If you really didn’t have this planned as a business trip, then why did we come to France?”

He took a sip from his wine glass before speaking. “I love France. The cuisine is amazing, and it's beautiful. And I've been told it's romantic. But I wouldn't really know anything about that.”

“I saw the beach on my way to your home; it's amazing. I'd love to see it again before we go back.”

He shook his head. “You know, I have never been to the beach here.”