Relentless (Mason Family 4)

“Oh. Well, I usually sleep in, and then sometimes I go to Lisbeth’s for brunch.”

“You and Lisbeth are close.”

I nod. “Sometimes I spend the afternoon in Forsyth Park with a book or watch a movie and sleep through most of it.”

Oliver laughs. “What kind of movies do you like? Besides Steel Magnolias?”

My heart swells at the fact that he remembered what I’d said.

“I like girlie movies. Anything with Julia Roberts or Sandra Bullock. Ocean’s Eleven—all of them— are good. Jason Bourne.”

He seems surprised. “All excellent choices.”

“Thank you.” I laugh. “What do you do on Sundays?”

He rocks back and forth and gazes across the meadow. “I usually sleep in … until seven,” he says, watching me out of the corner of his eye.

“That is not sleeping in!”

He laughs. “It is for me.”

“One of these days, I’ll show you sleeping in.”

“Didn’t we sleep in today?” He holds out his hands. “It’s nine o’clock.”

I sigh. “No. Sleeping in means at least until ten. Maybe eleven. Twelve if you’re really going big.”

His eyes go wide. “You can sleep until noon?”

“Yeah. I’ve even slept until one.”

He adds a dropped jaw to the mix. The whole look is more than I can take seriously. I swat at his shoulder and giggle.

“So I sleep in but apparently not to your standards,” he says, running a hand through his perfectly mussed hair. “Then I usually go to church with Mom and Wade. And then we’ll do lunch, or I’ll come back here and work in the office for a while.”

I shake my head.

“What?” he asks.

“You work at home on Sundays?”

“Yeah. That’s how you get shit done. You do it.”

I lift my feet off the floor, and my chair rocks back and forth too.

We sit quietly, the sun warming my skin. It must be the fresh air that the plants give off—or maybe it’s the large crystal in the corner of the room that sets the tone, but there’s an intrinsically peaceful nature about the room.

“What do you want to do today?” Oliver asks.

I keep my gaze trained on the window. “I actually need to go home.”

“Why? I thought we could go to the beach or go out to dinner somewhere nice.”

This sweet man.

I give myself a minute to pretend having expensive dinners and afternoons at the beach are my life. That all I have to worry about is if I’d like seafood or steak, a movie in or a night out. It’s a wonderful sixty seconds suspended in a daydream that stars me and Oliver and fancy evening dresses.

I sigh. “I have to work tonight.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I do.”

“I give you the night off.” He bumps my hand with his. “See how that works? Now you’re free to spend the night with me.”

I turn my head and look at him. “I can’t.”

Despite the revelations that I’ve shared with Oliver, I haven’t told him about The Gold Room. I haven’t not told him that I work for Nate; it hasn’t come up. I’m happy that I haven’t given it much thought because now that the moment is here, I’m not sure it’ll be smooth sailing.

Oliver’s brow furrows as he tries to feel his way around this topic.

“Why the hell not?” he asks.

“Well,” I say, stepping gently into this particular pool, “I have a second job.”

This catches him off guard. He leans back as if it’ll somehow help him understand the plain English that I just used.

“Okay.” He licks his lip, still unsure. “Where is it? What do you do?”

“I’m a waitress. I cook, too, and do dishes. And God knows I clean because Nate couldn’t find his way around the place with a mop if he had to.”

Oliver stills. “Who is Nate?”

“Nate is my boss. He owns the place.” I squirm under Oliver’s stare. “He’s one of my best friends.”

He nods, but it’s more for my benefit than an actual understanding and acceptance of my statement. That much I’m certain.

“Do I not pay you enough?” he asks. “Because I swear I saw your employment offer, but if Toni—”

“You pay me enough. More than I expected and more than I made at Monroe. It’s not that.”

He shifts in his seat. “Then what is it, Shaye? How does my EA work as a waitress at a … bar? Is that what you said?”

“Yes. It’s called The Gold Room. It’s nice. Nate just updated everything. I promised Nate that I would stay on for a while, and I don’t go back on my promises.”

My mouth goes dry. I’m not sure what Oliver’s reaction is going to end up being. I’m not sure he knows either.

His fingertips tap against the armrest. In a painfully slow motion, he looks away from me and out the window.

“You and Nate are just friends?”

“Of course.”

He rocks back and forth. “I want to be very clear about something that I didn’t realize I needed to be clear about.” He stops moving and looks at me. “But I do.”