Read Personal Shopper Online

Authors: Tere Michaels

Tags: #General Fiction

Personal Shopper (3 page)

Not that Will tried hard.

Will played with the collar of the shirt and considered asking Mr. Hudson Smith to join him for lunch. He had plenty of time to work on solving Veronica’s problems – a little sex in the afternoon would be pretty nice. He hadn’t done anything like this for months now, too caught up in the book to bother. It would just be blowing off some steam. Hot British steam.

The curtain rustled.

“Will? Try this tie,” the voice on the other side said, and a silk brown tie slid over the top of the curtain rod.

“Thanks,” Will called, pulling it down.

Another good call, though the knot was more “tenth grade dance” and not quite at the level this ensemble deserved.

“Okay, coming out,” Will said, pushing the material aside to duck out.

Hudson stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. He seemed lost in thought, far away from this stuffy little shop and Will paused, reconsidering his imagined proposition.

He coughed and Hudson’s attention seemed to snap back, a thin smile crossing his face.

“Well, let’s take a look,” he said, directing Will into some better light.

“You have some mad skills Mr. Smith – I look like a grown-up with a job and everything.” Will did a half spin, arms and legs working in a rare show of coordination.

“The colors and fabrics definitely suit you,” Hudson said modestly. “You should wear suits more often – no insult to your fine jeans and sweater of course.”

“I work out of my apartment.” Will played with the cuffs of the shirt and jacket; he was just spindly enough to have them be a spot too short. “Not many special occasions to dress up like this.”

“But this holiday is different?”

“My sister’s bringing her fiancé home. And his parents. And my parents.” Will went back to worrying about how this was going to play out. “We don’t usually go so formal around the holidays but these folks have some duckets if you know what I mean. We want to dress to impress the snooty folks.” The second it was out of his mouth, Will realized that sounded pretty stupid. He was wearing almost two thousand dollars worth of clothing and even that looked like chump change next to Mr. Hudson Smith, who now looked a little uncomfortable.

“I mean – I make a good living but these folks make a lot more,” he added lamely, smoothing his hands over his lapel. “That’s all. We just want to make a good impression, you know?”

“Of course,” Hudson said smoothly. He gestured towards the suit. “It’s a wonderful choice. However I apologize for picking out something so expensive.”

“No, no. I can afford it.” Will made a face. “Plus it’s a good investment, right?” He gestured over his shoulder into the dressing room. “I’ll just get undressed and pay for everything…thanks again.”

He ducked into the space and flung the curtain closed.

Annnd this is why he didn’t flirt to date, just to get laid.

~ * ~ * ~

Back in his regular clothes, Will walked out into the store with the suit and shirt over his arm. Clark and Mr. Hudson Smith were over at the cash register, speaking as Hudson signed a credit slip. They both looked up as Will approached.

“I’m going to take the suit, tie and shirt, and the scarves,” Will said to Clark who just nodded, his glower and glare on semi-polite simmer.

“You need some tailoring on the suit…” Hudson said but Will shook his head.

“I’ll come back after the holidays. I have – a million things to take care of before Christmas Eve.”

Hudson nodded as Clark turned his back to begin bagging things up.

“It looked good enough without the work.”

“Thanks. And thanks for your help.” Will smiled. “You have amazing taste.”

Hudson got that quiet expression on his face again and nodded. “My pleasure. So, do you have many more stops to make today?”

“About a thousand. This holiday thing is entirely mine to handle – gifts, decorations, food, everything.” Will was starting to feel sorry for himself again. “At least I got a few things ticked off my list.”

“Perhaps I could – help you.”

Will blinked.

“Help me?”

“Run your errands. You said I had a good eye and to be honest, I don’t have much to do for the rest of the day. I could do my own holiday shopping as we work our way through your list.”

Will’s face curled into a confused frown. “That’s awfully nice of you to offer. You’re not like…the world’s most charming serial killer are you?”

Hudson laughed quietly. “No.” He paused for a moment then reached into his pocket and pulled out a little silver case. From it he produced a cream colored business card which he handed to Will with a flourish.

“Hudson Smith, Executive Vice President of Acquisitions and Development, Benoir Industrie Ayrospatiale,” Will read aloud and nodded. “Okay. But just because your card says that and not – I pick up scrawny writers and kill them in alleyways doesn’t mean I should trust you.”

And it says something, Will thought, that he was willing to sleep with the guy without a background check but spending time together? Questioning.

Hudson seemed taken aback by Will’s reaction but kept smiling, putting his card case back in his pocket. “Would you like to start with lunch then?”

“Should’ve thought of that myself.” Will winked and tucked the card into his wallet as he took out his credit card. Clark had returned during this conversation, his hatred creating a force field around Will’s head.

“Thank you so much sir,” Clark said, snatching the card from Will’s hand.

Hudson’s eyebrow went up.

Will shrugged. He tried not to enjoy the moment too much.

They were quickly packed up and headed out the door, Hudson in his male model ensemble with two shopping bags—an impressive haul considering Will had left him alone in the shop for all of twenty minutes total—and Will, in his puffy coat, lugging two of his own and a suit bag.

“What was all that in there?” Hudson asked as Will directed him westward, in the crisp December air.

“You didn’t notice Clark writing Mr. and Mr. Hudson Smith on his notebook as soon as you walked in?” Will gave him an incredulous glare.

Hudson shook his head. “No, no. You must be mistaken. He never said anything.”

Will rolled his eyes. Why did the hot guys never notice? “That’s because he was waiting for you to notice and ask him out.”

That produced a frown. “Really?”

“Really. How long have you been going in there?”

“A…year or so. Every few months.” Hudson cringed as they darted around tourists and hurrying residents. “So he’s been waiting, you think?”

“I almost feel sorry for him now.” Will smiled to soften his words. “It’s okay. You weren’t interested, you didn’t notice. He should have said something.”

“I feel awful. I’m just not very good at this sort of thing. Noticing when someone is flirting with me.” Hudson seemed to be overly deep in thought again.

“You picked up on my clumsy attempts just fine,” teased Will.

“I did.” He smiled. “Amazing that.”

“Yeah, it’s not my forte generally.” Will gestured a right turn at the corner. He had a place in mind for a nice lunch with a cute guy. “I’m generally more—casual.” He coughed.

“I’m not even— casual,” Hudson mimicked, complete with cough. “Just working and traveling and apparently not noticing.”

“Damn, I feel even more special now.” Will was teasing but okay—flattered. “And it’s the holidays. Don’t you get a few days off to chill?”

Hudson didn’t say anything for the rest of the block but at the corner, as they waited for the light, he finally nodded. “A few days off would do me good.”

“See? Now I’m thinking I should take you up on your offer to help— you clearly need some distraction from work. And God knows, I need help.”

They crossed the street, walking in tandem.

CHAPTER FOUR

Grapa served brick oven pizza and a selection of wines at manageable prices. Will had a date here once, back when he dated, and found it to be just charming and quiet enough to filter into the background. No one wanted to compete with wallpaper when trying to make a good impression.

The hostess was checking her phone but gave them a fairly warm smile as she led them to a back table. The scheme was wrought iron and red checkered tablecloths, the lighting dim. Between lunch and dinner rush, they were the only diners at the moment – which didn’t explain why the young woman seated them in a back corner.

“Lovely,” Hudson said, stowing his share of the bags against the wall.

“Carla will be along in a moment,” the hostess said and left them to sort out coats and scarves and bags.

They needed an extra table and a set of chairs just to hold it all.

“Clark made quite the commission off us,” Will said, eyeing the excess.

“Makes up for you stealing me out from under his nose.” Hudson winked and ducked behind his wine menu.

“I did get the better deal.” Will hmmmed as he went through his ritual of touching all the shakers and cutlery on the table.

Carla arrived a second later. She was cheerful, clearly grateful to have customers. She recommended the margarita pizza and a Bolivian Syrah; Hudson nodded like he knew what she was talking about, asked about the Cabernet Sauvignon, ordered a Niscoise salad to go along with the pizza and gestured at Will.

He had a moment of “should I act like a grown up or myself” but seeing as this was a guy he essentially picked up in a clothing store, not a date, he went with “Will”.

“I’ll take a Stella, throw some sausage on my pizza and uh…okay, throw some mushrooms on there too. That’ll fill my vegetable quota for the day.” He handed Carla back the menu and checked Hudson’s expression for feedback.

“Technically mushrooms are a fungus, not a vegetable,” Hudson said drily as Carla walked away.

“Well, then I’m filling my fungus quota.”

Hudson laughed, tipping his head back as if truly amused. Will tried not to look too pleased.

“So tell me Will – what’s next on your Elegant Christmas List?”

“A tree. Decorations.” Will tapped his fingers on the table; nervous habit. “Dishes. Linens. Art. Furniture…”

Eyes wide, Hudson leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have those things?”

“No – I do. Stuff I love. Stuff I chose very carefully. Love my place. I’m just thinking adults who don’t already love my quirky ass will not be amused by the collection of Marvel action figures displayed prominently in the living room.”

“What about your parents’ place? Why not have it there?” Hudson seemed interested in his plight, and Will welcomed the sympathy.

“Tom and Nancy live in Connecticut which would suggest a nice Colonial with a tan couch but alas—no. They live in a bungalow with seating for three. Tom, Nancy and their pug, Shuster.”

“So – too small for guests.”

“Too small, too cluttered. Plus my parents don’t celebrate the holidays in traditional ways.”

“Oh.” Hudson’s face drew into a frown. “So all this preparation is just for your sister’s future in-laws?”

“We have to sell them a bit of a bill of goods.” Will shrugged. “They’re all fancy pants and high class. I don’t know that my sister wants to spring my hippie dippie parents on them right away.”

The frown stayed a long time and Will started to squirm.

“I know it doesn’t seem right to misrepresent, but like me and my quirky home, sometimes you don’t understand people right away. Not like you do when you love them.”

“Of course.” Hudson seemed to recover quickly then, schooling his face back into a smile. “Families have their own individual histories. Good and bad.”

“Exactly.”

Carla’s well-timed drink arrival popped the growing balloon of tension and by the time she’d set them up with alcoholic beverages and glasses, things felt a little bit better.

“You spending the holiday with your family?” Will asked after she left them with a promise of upcoming salads.

“Yes. My aunt and uncle and some cousins in London on Christmas Day.” Hudson concentrated on his wine and drank a bit before meeting Will’s eyes again.

“Oh.” It was on the tip of Will’s tongue to ask about his parents but Hudson beat him to it.

“My parents are both passed. So it’s just my extended family at this point,” he said politely. Will nodded. As much as Tom and Nancy drove him crazy, it made his stomach hurt to think of them not being around.

“Only child?”

“Yes. But I’m quite close to my cousins. One older, one younger.”

“I’m technically the youngest. Veronica is fourteen minutes older.” Will sipped his beer.

“Are you two close?”

“Yeah. No one can get under my skin quicker but I’d beat up people larger than myself for her you know?” Telling Hudson that put Will’s scattered feelings about this holiday farce into a clearer picture.

Hudson traced his fingers around the opening of his glass. “I feel the same way about my cousin – the younger one. I’d do just about anything for him.”

The melancholy in his tone made Will lean forward. “You okay?”

Hudson leaned his arms on the table. “Yes. Sorry for that. I have some concerns about the direction his…career may be heading in, and I want to help him make the right decision.”

“Advice and support – invaluable. Just don’t get pissed when he does exactly the opposite!”

The other man chuckled. “Voice of experience?”

“Yes – but I figured it out okay.”

“By doing the opposite of what everyone told you.”

Will nodded. “Absolutely. Gut checked it then threw myself off the cliff. And it worked out. I have the career I dreamed of.”

“What do you do exactly?”

“I write books. My pen name is Nixon Price.” He didn’t add the “you might have heard of me” because nine times out of ten, no one had.

Hudson, for example, clearly hadn’t.

“How interesting! I’ll make sure to look you up next time I’m in a bookstore,” Hudson said politely.

“Given the price of that suit, buy the whole backlist,” Will teased.

“Agreed.”

“And okay – what the hell is it you do? Because that card is wicked vague.”

“The family business, which to reiterate is not the mafia, is building, buying and outfitting factories for aerospace industries around the world. I am specifically in charge of…”

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