“They’re all going to want to foster a friendship with you,” Daisy warned, and Mason grimaced.
“What the fuck for?”
“Well, look at your résumé, Mason. From war hero”—he snorted at that, but she ignored him—“to underwear model, to bodyguard for the stars, to millionaire playboy. They’ll be wetting themselves to get chummy with you.”
“What? A ghetto rat like me? How goddamn flattering.” He sounded anything but flattered, and Daisy bit her lips to keep from laughing at the sheer disgust that clouded his words.
“It’ll do wonders for their street cred.”
“Street cred? Street cred? What does that even mean?”
“These guys think they’re God’s gift, and you’ve become something of a celeb around these parts. They’re going to want to induct you into their ranks.”
“Like a cult?” he scoffed.
“Yep,” Daisy affirmed with a little grin, secretly entertained by how off-putting he seemed to find the notion. She had no idea if anything she’d just said were true, but it was fun to watch him squirm.
“You’re bullshitting me again, aren’t you?” he asked with suspiciously narrowed eyes, and she giggled.
“Of course I am. How would I know what that sneak of weasels are thinking?”
He chuckled and then trumped her. “Don’t you mean that crevice of assholes?” Her eyes widened, and she burst into laughter, immediately drawing attention to their table.
“Oh, that’s good,” she chortled, and he grinned again.
“I would have gone with forest of dicks, but forest sounds too damned impressive.”
“A d-dribble of dicks?” she suggested, still laughing, and that set him off.
“Jesus woman, that’s just wrong!” he chastised between hearty chuckles.
“But effective . . .”
He flashed her another one of those devastating smiles and proceeded to ask her about the other bridesmaids, her sisters, and her parents. He had such an easy manner about him, that she found herself opening up to him unreservedly, which was unusual for her. They laughed often, and Daisy knew that they gave the appearance—to anyone who happened to be observing—of a couple enjoying each other’s company immensely.
“So are you busy tomorrow?”
His change in subject was so abrupt that Daisy answered without thinking. “Not really.”
“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Wait. What? Seven? In the morning?”
“Yeah. Dress warmly and comfortably.” His words barely registered because she couldn’t quite get past the time.
“The sun isn’t even up at seven yet.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be asleep.”
“No, you won’t, you’ll be awake, because I’ll be picking you up at that time.”
“Why? What could you possibly want to do that requires getting up at the butt crack of dawn on my one and only day off?”
“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously, and her eyes narrowed.
“I won’t be able to see much of anything with my eyes closed,” she groused.
“Drink lots of coffee; you’ll be fine.” She eyed him speculatively for a moment, wondering what he was up to. She knew that this was just another part of the pretense and knew she had to play along, but that cravenly part of her was once again pleading with her to back out. She tamped it down firmly. There would be no backing out from here on out.
She just had to keep that first night front and center when dealing with Mason. He was good at pretense, he had spent time charming her, entertaining her, making her feel liked when all he had been doing was clearing the way for his brother to flirt with her sister.
And tonight again, while Daisy had been genuinely enjoying herself, he had been putting on a show for Shar and everybody else. Which, to be fair, was exactly what Daisy had asked him to do. She just hadn’t expected him to be so convincing.
“Do you want to get some dessert? Or maybe head over to Ralphie’s for a drink?” Daisy was enjoying the evening so much that she hadn’t even noticed she’d finished her meal and that the dinner crowd at MJ’s was thinning. She cast a look around, surprised to note that the restaurant was nearly empty.
“No, I think I should head home. Especially if I have to be up in the early hours of the morning.”
“It’s not that bad,” he chastised. She didn’t respond, merely gave him a look, and he grinned.
“Trust me, you’ll change your tune when you have to deal with predawn Daisy in the morning,” she warned, and he chuckled before signaling Thandiwe and asking for the bill.
After he had settled their bill, waving aside any attempt from Daisy to pay half, he took her arm and led her out into the cold night air. It had stopped raining, so they had no need of the umbrella, but it was freezing cold, with a sharp, blustering wind that cut right to the bone. Still the air had that crisp, fresh after-rain smell, and Daisy inhaled deeply before settling into the car.
The drive home was short, and when they got to her place, he wordlessly got out and assisted her from the car. He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her to the front door.