The Invitation

She nodded. “You’re the face of Signature Scent. People respond to you.”

“But I’m awkward in photos. I’ve never done a professional shoot or anything.”

Olivia shrugged. “You’d never been on TV before either and look how great that went.”

“I don’t know…”

“This campaign is about beauty and science, and who better to sell that than you?”

I kept staring down at the ads. The woman sketched to be me had on thick glasses and had her hair up. She sat in front of a lab table with all kinds of beakers and science equipment scattered about. Yet her leg was sticking out from behind the table, and she wore a red-bottomed shoe. It was definitely an ad I’d stop and look at—but then again, I’m a science geek.

“How about this…” Olivia said. “We’ll shoot what we’d originally planned and these. You can make the final call.” She pointed to the mocked-up ad. “But I’m telling you, this could be something amazing.”

I couldn’t say no after she offered that. Olivia had been wonderful, and I knew she must believe in her idea or she wouldn’t be pushing it. She had nothing but the best intentions for making Signature Scent a success.

So I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

Olivia clapped her hands. “Great. The shoot is the day after tomorrow—Friday morning.”

“Just let me know what I need to do to get ready. Do you want me to bring some clothes?” The photo had a white button-up blouse and what looked like a black pencil skirt. “I definitely have a white shirt and dark skirt.”

“Nope. We’re all set.” Olivia smiled apprehensively. “I already ordered everything we need. The clothes, the science-y looking props, even the shoes. I wasn’t sure of your size, so I ordered a few of everything.”

I laughed. “Okay.”

She stood. “All I need you to do is show up.”

“I can handle that.”

“I have my admin making us reservations right now. I’m going to book our flight home for Sunday, if that’s okay—just in case we need a second day on Saturday.”

My brows furrowed. “Flight? Where is the shoot?”

“Oh. The photographer is based out in LA. Didn’t I mention that?”

“You didn’t. But that’s fine. I’ve never been to California.”

“You’re going to love it. We’ll probably have a lot of downtime. I can play tour guide.”

“Okay. That sounds great. Thanks, Olivia.”

***

The following morning, I was up and ready early. I’d taken a melatonin before going to sleep last night, knowing I’d be anxious and toss and turn. It was bad enough my face was going to be plastered all over marketing materials; I didn’t want to have bags under my eyes, if I could help it.

Our flight was at 9:30, but we had to leave for the airport by 6:30. At 6:15 I was drinking my second cup of coffee and staring out the window, watching the sun come up, when a black stretch limousine pulled up in front of my building. There was never any parking, so I rushed to the kitchen and dumped the rest of my coffee, then rinsed out my mug and grabbed my luggage. In the hallway, I pushed the button for the elevator, but realized I’d forgotten my other bag with my laptop. So I left my luggage and ran back to my apartment.

From down the hall, I heard the elevator ding its arrival as I locked my door for the second time. I didn’t want the car to have to circle the block, so I hurried to grab my bag as the doors slid open. Not expecting anyone to be inside the elevator, I barreled in without paying attention and crashed right into someone trying to exit.

“Shit.” I dropped the handle to the suitcase I’d been dragging behind me, and it tipped over and fell to the floor. Bending to pick it up, I continued, “Sorry! Are you oka—” I stopped in my tracks as I looked up. “Hudson?”

“I guess I should be grateful you didn’t swing at me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking you up to go to the airport.” He shrugged. “What else would I be doing here?”

I was thoroughly confused. “But where’s Olivia?”

“Oh, that’s right. I told Olivia I’d let you know I was going instead of her. It must’ve slipped my mind. Sorry about that.”

“But why are you going instead of Olivia?”

“She had a change in her schedule. Is that a problem?”

Other than my heart already hammering after being close to this man for one minute—and now I’d have to spend days by his side—what could be the problem with that? I looked into his eyes, not quite sure what I was searching for. Then I finally exhaled. I was a professional; I could handle this.

Straightening my spine, I said, “No. No problem at all.”

I could’ve sworn I saw a sparkle in his eye. But I didn’t have time to explore it since Hudson grabbed my wheely bag and held out his hand for me to enter the still-waiting elevator car. “After you.”