Page 70 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

He looked back at me, his expression hard with frustration.

“But you’ve done it before.”

I went very still.

“What?”

“The first time you heard my voice, you recorded me without permission. You sent that recording to your boss because you thought it could help your project. I know you apologized, but you still did it.”

I felt the words like a slap.

“Yes. I did. And I apologized. I told Bridget exactly what I’d done, and Oliver told you before you agreed to anything. We discussed it again on Thursday, and you said you believed me when I promised it wouldn’t happen again.”

“I know what you said.”

“Then why are you acting as though I’ve been sneaking around behind your back? I’ve been careful with every recording we’ve made. I’ve checked the equipment before we’ve done anything private. I’ve respected every boundary you set, Hudson, because I know how important your privacy is.”

He looked down at the phone again.

“I’ve got messages from my brother about something I specifically told Folio not to do, and I don’t know how many other people have seen it. My crew could be looking at that photograph right now. I don’t want my life turned into somebody’s advertising campaign.”

“I understand why you’re angry. I would be furious too. But the people you need to be angry with are the ones who released the photograph. Folio had your legal name for the contract, and Oliver knew exactly what the publicity restrictions were.”

Hudson’s jaw tightened.

“You really don’t know anything about it?”

“No.”

He studied my face.

I waited for him to say he believed me.

Instead, he looked down at the phone.

“I don’t know what to think right now.”

My throat tightened.

“I thought you knew me better than that.”

He didn’t answer immediately, and the longer the silence stretched, the more painful it became.

“Yesterday, when Bridget mentioned the new contract, I was excited because I’ve spent years working toward an opportunity like that. But I also heard what you said about your own career. I didn’t argue with you, and I didn’t try to change your mind. We talked about it afterward, and I thought we’d understood each other.”

“I remember.”

“Then why would I secretly authorize something that could hurt you?”

Hudson looked at me, frustration evident in his expression.

“I don’t know, Peyton. Maybe because you’ve been dreaming about this kind of opportunity for years, and you didn’t want to lose it.”

I stepped back.

There it was.

He thought I might have sacrificed his privacy to advance my career.