Ex Games

“Are you serious?” I burst out laughing. “I can’t get two weeks off, Mason. With barely any heads up and during high season? I’m not exaggerating when I say that’s impossible.”

Mason’s chiseled features barely twitched in reaction. In fact, he looked bored with my reasoning as he turned his focus to adjusting his cufflinks. “It’s not impossible. Your company has been angling for years to get one of their bars into The Victorian Hotel. I’m the majority owner of The Victorian Hotel and my contract with the restaurant group running our rooftop lounge expires next year. If I guarantee that space to Vandermark and require you as my exclusive liaison, they’ll let you go on vacation for an entire month if you want.”

I breathed out hard like his statement physically hit me in the chest. “You’re not honestly suggesting that you’ll use a multi-million dollar contract to bribe my company into granting me a two-week vacation.”

His cufflinks straight, Mason returned his attention to me. “That was exactly what I was suggesting but I’d be happy to reword it if you’re having trouble understanding. I imagine working at Faddy Ales does a number on the brain cells.”

I closed my eyes. “Oh my God. You are so incredibly annoying.”

“I know. You just gotta learn to love it, babe. That’s how good relationships last.”

Eyes open again, I stared at Mason, trying to figure out if he might actually be more infuriating than my toxic coworkers. But then right on cue, Brielle came by, hitting me first with a scowl and then her classic hip-check that sent me tripping with surprising force onto Mason’s table. The girl at the neighboring booth yelped, “Omigod!” as glasses toppled and I clenched my jaw.

&nbs

p; Oh. My God.

I heard my coworkers’ ripping snorts behind me, and with my nose smashed in a puddle of ice water, I could actually feel my tolerance for bullshit quickly reaching capacity.

“What just – ?”

I brushed off Mason’s question before he could finish, wordlessly getting back on my feet and undoing my apron. Chucking it onto the table, I yanked out my ponytail, crossed my arms and locked eyes with Mason. “I won’t be just your dirty fling.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“If I go to the wedding as your date, Mason, I’m going to be seen as your girlfriend, not another cheap fling whose sole purpose is to get on her knees and service you whenever you think you’re horny. If you can manage to act like you have that kind of respect for a woman, then you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Mason blinked. “Done. Any other issues?”

“Minor concerns about how you’ll fake being a devoted boyfriend when you’ve never been one in real life.”

“I imagine the same way you’ll fake being a girlfriend who isn’t completely vanilla and devoid of passion.”

I glared. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Mason grinned. “Apparently that you can dish it but not take it.”

Once again, I closed my eyes for a moment to breathe deep.

“Alright, alright, truce,” he laughed. “Look, I know you hate me but let me just remind you that dealing with me for the next ten days will still be a hell of a lot easier than working at this shithole for at least another year. And if I ever say anything particularly annoying to you, just remember that giant fucking mountain of debt you’re erasing. Alright?”

I swallowed. “Fine.”

“Any last concerns?”

I tore the cheesy nametag off my breast. “None for now. Ready to go?”

Mason’s eyebrows shot up. “In the middle of your shift?”

“I’ve decided to make it the end,” I said, water still dripping from the tip of my nose as I glanced behind at my coworkers. They were watching from service bar with smirks for what a huffy mess I looked like. From where they stood, my conversation with Mason looked like an embarrassing disaster – which technically, it was, but I was still eager to turn their smug looks into that of open-mouthed shock. Looking back to him, I crossed my arms. “It’s your first task as my boyfriend, Mase. Walk me out of here like the gentleman you aren’t and make yourself look convincingly like my loving boyfriend.”

His eyebrows still hitched, he grinned. “You got it, babe.”

And just like that, Mason was up. A hush had fallen over the room, but he was nonchalant, straightening his suit and looking like some kind of royal as he escorted me off with a hand on my back. He smirked when I stiffened at his touch. Despite an outward calm, my heart had never beat faster in my life. This is actually happening, I had to remind myself as Mason guided me to the front, pulling me protectively against his body as we parted the sea of gaping eyes. Nice touch, I smirked to myself, feeling bolder now as we approached the bar.

Like everyone else, the other waitresses were flat-out gaping, so as I passed their clique, I hit them with a version of the snarky line they always sneered at me.

“Tell them I quit?” I wiggled my fingers in a wave. “Thanks.”