Annika glared at him. “For your information, he was a very nice guy. And this was the best first date I’ve had in a long time. But you had to go ruin it. You messed with me before in the hallway, and then you just show up here. What’s your problem?” To her alarm, her eyes began to fill with tears.

But she had no one else to blame except herself for this date going to hell. “Go ahead,” she said, refusing to look at Hudson and brushing her tears away with a rough fist. “You can laugh. I know you want to.”

“I would never laugh when you’re crying.” She looked up at his tone. Lines of concern had appeared between his brows, and there was no trace of his trademark teasing smile on his face. He reached for her, seemed to think better of it, and set his hand on the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know … the date was important to you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Annika shook her head and took a deep drink of water. “It’s not about this particular date. I mean, I wanted to give it my best shot, but I don’t think it was going anywhere, to be completely honest. That seems to be a theme with me.” She took a centering breath. That’s enough vulnerability for now. “But that’s okay.” Pasting on a bright smile, she added very deliberately, “It gives me more time to prepare for my Time interview. Or should I say, co-interview, with you?”

He paused, his face confused at the change of topic. And then his brow cleared. “Wait. What? How do you know about my Time interview?”

Ha. She sat back and crossed her arms. “Our Time interview.” She paused, savoring his silence. “Whoa. Hudson Craft, with nothing to say for the first time in his life. Maybe I should take a picture.” She put on an innocent expression. “Emily Dunbar-Khan hasn’t told you yet? Mm, well, she will. It’s not just a profile on Break Up anymore. It’s a ‘Make Up and Break Up go head-to-head’ kind of thing.” Smiling, she took a slow sip of her wine. “Much more interesting for readers that way.”

Hudson shook his head slowly and began to chuckle. The neon lights frosted the tips of his blond hair pink. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

Annika narrowed her eyes, not liking his reaction one bit. “Get what?”

He looked at her, cocking his head. “You think you’re getting one over on me. But all you’re showing me—by rushing into my office and accusing me of taking your idea, by renting out a corner of the rooftop during my event, by co-opting the interview I was going to do by myself—is that you can’t bear to be apart from me.”