Prison Fling

Instead, Jim had looked like someone who was ready to piss his pants. And all he did was kiss my forehead? Really? That was it?

Grow a pair, will you?

Sighing, I walked inside. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like things were serious or anything. He was just a nice guy and I was a good girl. We were supposed to date. That’s it. That’s how the universe works.

Oh god.

I couldn’t keep going on like this.

I couldn’t stand the thought that I might end up with someone like Jim.

It’s not fair! my mind cried. This isn’t what I want!

But what do you want? a small voice reprimanded. A roll in the hay with a prison inmate? Really? You think that’s gonna be good for you instead? Stick with Jim, girlie. At least you’re safe this way.

Oh god, oh god.

Limply, I dropped onto the couch. What to do? My mind whirled.

Suddenly, my laptop caught my eye.

Hmm… that was an idea.

Maybe if I learned more about Mason, it wouldn’t be so confusing. Because maybe he didn’t deserve to be in jail.

Yeah, right.

He was tried and convicted, like any other American citizen.

But still, a girl has to hope. Quickly, I snatched up the machine and plopped down on the loveseat, getting comfortable. Ah, it was so nice to be at home by myself, instead of cooped up inside of Jim’s small compact.

The computer took a while to boot up, the base warming up against my thighs. I shifted a bit to pull down my skirt and as I did, heat warmed my cheeks. Oh god, I was still wearing the same pair of panties from earlier today.

But right. I was here to find out serious information, not to dream.

The log in screen flashed, and then my desktop showed. It was littered with various files and writing assignments for when I had free time. That never happened. Still, I liked to keep them there to make myself feel better. Maybe I would get to them one day. Maybe.

For the moment, I ignored them and started up my search browser.

Mason Evercore.

My finger pressed enter tentatively.

The little computer hummed, and then out blasted 760,000 results.

What?

But that’s just how search engines work. Anything with the word “Mason” “Ever” or “Core” got tagged.

The first few were nothing, but soon, there was dirt. And seeing a promising link, I clicked.

It was an article from the San Antonio Herald, published about two months ago.

“Billionaire Mason Evercore Imprisoned for Insider Trading!” the headline screamed. “Jail Time Imminent!”

I gasped.

Billionaire?

Insider trading?

Could it be true?

Quickly, I scanned the article. Evidently, he’d been CEO of a company when the stock price crashed. Evidently he’d sold shares right before that happened, allegedly using insider knowledge.

What did that mean?

I wasn’t sure.

All I saw was the accompanying picture. Mason, dark and handsome in a suit. Scowling as he was led from his fifteen million dollar mansion in handcuffs.

A mansion?

Five million dollars?

That was crazy.

And the article went on to list his assets. Evidently, the mansion was his summer home in Nantucket. There was also his main residence, a penthouse in Manhattan, as well as an estate in Florida and a castle in Ireland.

Imagine that!

A castle.

I shivered, unsure what to think.

On the one hand, obviously this guy was rich. Mega-wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. The type who flew around in private jets, helicoptering if the skies got to congested.

And clearly, he worked in the world of high finance. New York City was his milieu, not this sad little town in Texas.

I gulped.

What was I thinking?

He’d never be interested in me.

Or even if he was, it was only because there were slim pickings.

Out in the real world, he could get anyone. Models, actresses, even a princess or two. There was a pictures of him, tall and handsome, always with a beautiful woman or two hanging onto his arm.

Because it was obvious that Mason was a playboy. He constantly had a beautiful woman on his arm. In fact, the same one never showed up twice. And most of them were blonde and skinny, with big blue eyes and blinding white smiles.

Exactly my opposite.

I was curvy and huge, with untamable ringlets forming a halo around my face. My eyes were brown. My hair was brown. I was a humble sparrow compared to these swans.

I’d been such a fool.

Mason wasn’t interested in me.

He was just bored in jail, like a cat toying with a mouse.

The moment he was out, I’d be toast.

So before I could make myself feel even worse, I closed my laptop, putting it back on the coffee table.

“I just need to forget him,” was my desperate whisper. “Drop it Laney, drop it.”

But how could I forget Mason Evercore?

Because it was like forgetting how to breathe.

CHAPTER FOUR

Mason

Why does time go by so goddamn slow around here? I swear, whenever I look at the clock, it hasn’t moved. Minutes turn into hours and hours into days. Life in jail was a snail-paced eternity. A living hell.