Mason's Winter

“Then, that’s all that I need to know.” He turns back around and marches to the restaurant, leaving me three steps behind. Uh-oh, it looks like I angered the beast.

We enter Chateau, a fancy French restaurant, and the host greets us, looking at us oddly because of his handful of packages. “I’m Mr. Hunt. I’m here to join the Grable party.”

“Yes, Ms. Grable is at the table. Follow me.” Carissa is sitting at a small intimate table only meant for two people. I want to snap because this is what she was hoping to have—a nice private dinner that I’m sure had nothing to do with business. She sees Mason first since his broad body blocks me from her view. She stands up with her calculating smile turned on him until she takes in the expression on his face. A part of me loves this and wants to instigate the matter, but I won’t have anywhere to live if I do. Maybe there’s a shelter or Mr. Reedy, and his wife will let me stay with them sooner than expected. Shit, I just remembered they are going out of town to visit their kids.

“Ms. Grable, here are your packages from the shop.” He tosses the gifts on the table carelessly.

“What’s going on?” she asks, looking between the packages and Mason. I step around, so she can see me and then her face blanches instantly. “Oh, you’re telling him lies.”

“Ms. Grable, I’m leaving these here, and Winter and I are gone. Now, just so you know the deal is off. I’m not going to buy your father out. You fucked that up big time. You told my future wife that I was engaged to you,” he exclaims, then slides his hand down my arm and intertwines his fingers with mine. Did he just call me his future wife? I can’t believe he said that. Maybe it’s just to piss her off.

“What? I didn’t,” she chokes out, pointing her finger at me. “She’s lying.”

“You did,” I screech out, forgetting that I was in public.

“You can tell me that bullshit, but it doesn’t matter. Good night.” He turns around and walks us out of the restaurant. “Sorry about that, Winter.”

“I’m going to be homeless now. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I cry out, losing my nerve I had a moment ago. Fuck, what am I going to do?

“Stop worrying, Winter. If you really want to work, you can work for my company.”

“It’s not wanting to, I have to. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon like…”

“Me?” he asks, quirking his brow. I totally didn’t mean him, but I know that he’s not going to be out on the street tomorrow like I will be.

“No, I don’t know if you were born rich. I meant that I have to work for a living, unlike my step-sister.”

He does a double take, then asks in disbelief, “Step-sister? You can’t mean that wench back there?”

“Yes, but our parents are getting divorced.”

“I never heard anything about him having a step-daughter.”

“That’s because I’m just a stowaway. I have to be her assistant to get my college paid for and to live in their home.”

I could see the anger in his eyes, but then he smiles and says, “Well, see there’s a little secret I will let you in on. They are trying to sell their company because she’s not good at running it. She’s grown up too spoiled. One of the side-effects of giving your kids everything is they may never learn the value of hard work. She is an example of it.”

“What about you? Did you become successful by your own bootstraps?”

“No, I had family money. Nowhere close to what I have now, but I had to earn my success. My parents owned a small textile company in the suburbs. We lived as a middle-class family, but of course, there were times when my father had to downsize and fell into the red. I never wanted to worry about going bankrupt or having to lay off employees when there’s a turn in the market or trends that lead to useless materials. I work buying companies and bringing them back to life before selling them and moving on to the next.”

“Wow, you’re pretty awesome.” I feel so out of place around him. It’s different to meet someone who isn’t so damn self-absorbed.

“I think you are too,” he adds, going straight to my ovaries.

“Whatever. I don’t do anything special.”

“As cheesy as it sounds, you do something special to me. Every time I think of you, see you, or dream of you, I want more. So my lovely Winter, you are special to me. Now, let’s get some dinner because I’m starving, and we can talk some more before I take you home and spend this weekend learning everything we can about each other.”