Turning the page and flipping through until I had passed the glossy pictures and found more print, I dove into the next chapter. This one claimed to be about the next-level, very modern and hip office environment he had created.
Instead, it was nearly entirely made up of quotes about how awesome he was. Mostly, the authors quoted women, but here and there was one from a man who echoed his female colleagues’ sentiments.
The whole thing was bordering on ridiculous. I had to wonder what Jude Hudson himself had thought about this book when it came out.
Personally, I’d have hated to see such an account about myself immortalized on the pages of the first biography done about me. I supposed that was only true if the drivel it spewed was incorrect.
But it had to be. I mean, come on. Surely, there has to be more to him than this nonsense.
A man couldn’t possibly become as successful as he had if all he was at his core was a womanizer and sports-car enthusiast. Somewhere within these pages, there had to be something more.
There just had to be.
I hadn’t found it yet, but I just had to keep looking. I wanted to know more about him, not his affinity for nice things. The blurb had promised me I’d get to know him, but so far, it had lied.
For example, I still didn’t even know where he came from. What did he believe in? What were those lessons he had lived his life by?
What, if anything, did he want out of life aside from money?
None of those questions had been answered, and that seemed odd to me. Strangest of all was that he had a son, but the boy was hardly mentioned in the book at all. Who was he? Why was there barely a whisper about him in a book about his father?
I had all these questions that had nothing to do with business, and that was a problem. None of those answers should have meant a thing to me, so why did they?
A voice in the back of my mind snorted at me. Because he’s hot, smart, and you admire his acumen.
A digital ding interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to a flight attendant coming down the aisle with a cart. As he went, he handed out the flight meals.
My stomach grumbled. Maybe food was just what I needed to distract myself from the enigma that was my mentor.
Reaching out, I used one hand to let down the tray table and the other to remove my earbuds. I let them dangle around my neck and set the book down, mentally flipping through the menu options I’d read earlier.
“I heard there was a book out about our Jude now,” an accented voice said from beside me. “What do you think about it so far?”
I turned to look at the woman sitting in the seat next to mine. I’d already had my music playing by the time she’d boarded and had been too engrossed in the book and my thoughts to have paid much attention to her before.
Like Jude, her skin had a golden hue to it and her eyes held that same twinkling quality. She was older, though, maybe middle-aged. Fine wrinkles surrounded her eyes and mouth, and her blonde hair had streaks of gray in it.
Her brown gaze was soft and kind, but her head was tilted to the side, and she looked at me expectantly. I cleared my throat, remembering that she’d asked me a question.
I swiped at my lips with my tongue. “I’m not done reading it yet, but it’s interesting so far.”
She nodded with a knowing gleam entering her eyes. “It would have to be if it’s about Jude. I’m Addy by the way.”
“Roselyn, but please call me Rose,” I said, smiling. “I love your accent.”
“You’re going to be hearing a lot of it if you’re planning on getting off this plane in Sydney,” she said cheerfully. “First time to Australia?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
The attendant reached us, and we each got our meals and a water before I turned back to her.
“I’m assuming you’re flying home?” I asked.
Her lips formed a radiant grin, deepening the wrinkles but making her so much more beautiful. “Yes. I just had a quick trip to see my daughter at the university in London. You’re American?”
I nodded. “I am, but I’ve been at Oxford for the last seven years.”
“Have you? Well, that’s great. You must be a smart cookie then.” She lifted the aluminum top covering her food and set it aside, but her attention was still on me. “What are you studying?”
“Business,” I replied as I opened my own meal, sliding the book into the pocket of the seat in front of me so I’d have space to eat. “I’m actually going to be doing an internship in Sydney for the semester.”
“Ah.” She snapped her fingers before picking up her cutlery, then pointed toward the book with the end of her fork. “I understand why you’re reading a book about Jude then. If you’re studying business, he’s one of the best to learn from.”
“Do you know him?” I asked since it sure sounded like she did. Maybe she would have answers to some of the questions I shouldn’t still have been thinking about.
Addie laughed, shrugging as she shook her head. “I don’t know him personally, but I feel like I do. Ever since he’s come onto the scene, the reporters can’t seem to get enough of him. The women certainly can’t.”
“What do you mean?” I felt my stomach sinking, but she just kept on smiling.
“You have to admit that he’s a good-looking man.” She inclined her head toward the book again. “It’s no wonder he’s the most desirable bachelor in the country, but that doesn’t mean all the rubbish they print about him is true.”
“Isn’t it? True, I mean. So far, the book doesn’t paint him in the best light.”
She lifted one shoulder, the corners of her lips pressing as she speared a cube of potato on her fork. “I don’t know, but one never does with those kinds of people, do you? It’s always seemed to me that there’s more nonsense about them written than the truth.”
She was right, of course. I knew she was, but I still felt uncertain about the infamous Jude Hudson. Addie changed the subject while we ate, but my gaze continued to drift to the cover of the book. I could only just see Jude’s brilliant green eyes peering over the top of the pocket.
Each time I looked into them, I wondered what was going on behind them.
Was there substance to the man, or was he just a handsome coder who had struck it lucky a few times?
Chapter 6
JUDE
Regardless of my bad habit of getting caught up with business or my enjoyment of my nights off, the only thing in the world that really mattered to me was my son. I didn’t get to see nearly as much of him as I would have liked to, but I made an effort to spend as much time with him as possible.
Even if it was just for breakfast every morning or dinner at night. At least once a day, for at least one uninterrupted hour, it was our time.
My mother, also known as The Saint, pulled a tray of freshly baked English muffins out of the oven. Luke and I walked into the kitchen after packing his bags for the next trip to the She-Devil.
Audrey would be picking him up in less than an hour, and God forbid she actually had to wait a minute for us to finish packing.
“Good morning, Mom,” I said as I crossed the handmade Italian tiles we had picked out together for the kitchen.