Reputation (Mason Family 2)

Oh, that helps.

Lauren opens the driver’s side door. “I’ll talk to Sean about this when I get home, but I think this is a dream come true. You know Bree has her piano recital coming up. Can you imagine what this would do for her confidence? And the fact that he’s home while she’s on this break from school? This could be …” She looks at the sky and smiles like God himself beamed a present in her lap. “An answer to my prayers.”

It takes everything I have not to laugh.

Coy? An answer to prayers? More like a curse of a Category 5 hurricane that leaves devastation in his wake.

She starts to climb inside the car.

“Lauren,” I say, my voice almost pleading. “I wish you’d hear what I’m saying.”

“Haven’t I?” She rests a hand over her steering wheel. The giant diamond she got as an anniversary gift last month glistens in the sunlight. “I’ve heard what you said, and I simply do not agree.”

My heart skips a beat as I realize that as soon as she gets in her car, this conversation will be over. I’m going to be face-to-face with Coy Mason every day if she has her way. And Coy will go along with it until he skips town and goes back to his highfalutin life with his fancy actress girlfriends, where he’s once again too busy to remember the people back home.

But the truth is that Coy won’t be home long—just long enough to get under my skin if I let him. If we’re around each other, he’ll tease me, torture me, and make me remember how he isn’t a dick all the time. That part of him exists. He’s well-loved around here for a reason.

If I have to see him, I’ll be forced to witness non-asshole Coy, too. I’ll watch him dote on his mother, laugh with his brothers, and I’ll be reminded of all the good times we shared. When we were the best of friends. When we shared secrets. When I looked at him and always believed I’d have him in my corner.

That was before I knew how the world worked. That was before I knew how the world would change him.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go in late to work tomorrow,” Lauren says. “I won’t drop Bree off until around nine. Why don’t you think about it and get back to me? If this is something that you truly don’t think you can handle, or don’t want to handle, then I’ll see if I can find someone else to watch her while Coy is home and willing to help her.”

My mouth drops open. “You’d do that? You’d fire me?”

“It’s not firing you. It’s working around your life choices.” She slides into the driver’s seat. “I would bring Bree back once you’re ready to take back over.”

“I’m ready to take over or keep my job now.”

She smiles. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow at nine, and you can take Bree to your neighbor’s house. Unless Sean objects, of course, but I don’t see that happening.”

I take a step away from her car. Lauren closes the door, starts the engine, and backs away with a little wave.

Irritation surpasses the shock coursing through me, and I fire a glare at the Mason house. I pivot on my heel and march toward my house.

“What the heck do I do now?” I groan.

The hardwood creaks as I step inside and close the door behind me. It was a laundry room and a little kennel area where I used to keep my Pekinese dogs when I was a little girl sitting on my right. On the left is a storage closet and a room where we just shove stuff.

I pass through the oversized kitchen filled with my mom’s rooster collection—one of the many things my dad refused to change after Mom passed when I was ten—and into the living room.

A game show blares on the television as my dad naps in his brown leather recliner. I grab the remote and turn it off. He opens his eyes and looks at me, a smile spreading across his face as his eyes adjust to the light.

Seeing him like this makes me physically ill.

“There she is,” he says sleepily. “How are you, baby girl? I haven’t seen you today.”

“Hey, Daddy.” I pat him on the top of his hand before sitting on the loveseat next to his chair. “How are you feeling?”

His eyes flutter closed as he struggles to stay awake.

My question was rhetorical.

His skin has a yellow tint that the doctors tell me isn’t good but is expected. I’m supposed to keep an eye on it and not let it get too yellow without calling the doctor’s office, but I don’t even know what that means. I rely on the nurses who come every morning and some evenings to try to help me gauge it.