by Ellie Danes
“What does he want with you?” Avery asked.
“I don’t know.” I said, shrugging and twisting my hair around my finger again. “I guess I’ll have to go and find out.”
“Well, damn, girl!” Avery said, laughing. “Aren’t you lucky! I saw him, last night. He was pretty hot. And behaved like a gentleman.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, I ended up in bed with the last guy I thought was a “gentleman,” Avery, and he called me Stacey.”
She bit into her apple again, hiding her smile behind it. “So you’re thinking he’s too good to be true, just like Jake?”
“Precisely,” I said, shaking out my hair. “But I still plan on finding out for myself. Because why not, right?”
“Just don’t do that thing...” Avery said, grabbing her phone and checking it so she didn’t have to meet my eyes.
“What thing?” I asked, slightly offended.
“That thing,” she insisted, giggling a little. “Where you shut off and don’t give anyone a chance. You got paid last night, remember, and you didn’t even have to talk to the bachelor. That’s a pretty good deal.”
I thought about the envelope from last night. It had been filled with cash, just like the one before. But this time I had felt guiltier. I hadn’t done a thing, after all. And I had actually met a man; a man who worked for the company throwing the event. Should I really be getting paid for that? “I think I’m going to bring it back.” I said, clicking off the coffee machine. I wasn’t a huge coffee drinker, but today I needed something to wake up.
“I wouldn’t,” Avery smirked. “I got paid the same amount and I had to work for it. And besides, there’s no harm in playing the field. I bet this guy has a lot of power, if he works for those rich people.”
“A lot of power or a lot of disregard for money,” I said, pouring some of the brown liquid into a mug.
“Well, I say give him a chance. I’ve got a date tonight, by the way,” she smiled, half skipping toward the door. “If you’re back, don’t wait up.”
I took a large gulp of my coffee, scalding my throat. “When I’m back,” I corrected her, but she had gone.
I knew deep down that I wasn’t going back to the mansion because I wanted to play the field. I was going back simply because I was attracted to Mason, in more than one way.
Avery let me borrow her Gucci black sleeveless dress, insisting that I needed something to impress Mason. I had to admit, I liked the way it hugged my curves, emphasizing all the right parts of my body.
“Good luck,” Avery said, giving me another wink.
I took one last glance in the mirror, applying some last touch-ups to my makeup. I didn’t really know why I was trying so hard. Mason was either too good to be true, or he just wanted to use me.
On that thought, I ran back into my room and slipped the money from last night into my purse. I wasn’t a call girl, and didn’t plan on being one, either.
* * * *
“Hey,” a familiar voice greeted me as I opened the door on my way out.
I stopped in my tracks. Jake stood there, hands in his pockets. His beat up hoodie and slumped posture infuriated me. I had worn that hoodie, before, without pants on. My cheeks heated.
“You asshole,” I barked at him as I attempted to push past him.
“Harper,” Jake said, taking a step forward. “I’m really sorry about the other night. I really do care about you, baby.”
“Don’t you call me that,” I said, gripping the doorframe with my fingers tightly.
“I just want to talk with you,” Jake begged, stepping even closer. “Why are you all dressed up?”
“Get the hell away from me,” I ordered, making sure to shut and lock the door behind me before trying to get past him.
“Oh, come on,” Jake begged again, fingers tugging at my skirt. That domineering approach might have gotten me at one time, but suddenly I felt afraid.
I slapped his hand away, brushing past him and making my way down the hall as fast as I could in my heels. “You’d better not be here when I get back.”
He didn’t reply.
If ever I needed my car to make it somewhere, it was now. For one, I thought Jake might try to follow me out in the parking lot. And two, I was seriously beginning to run late for my date with Mason.
Date. Listen to me, wishful thinking.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered to her, deciding to reclaim the term Jake had just attempted to manipulate me with. I stroked the worn steering wheel as I turned the key, hoping that sweet words would get my car to start.
It took a couple of tries, but it worked. The Camry roared to life. Thank God.
The day was sunny and beautiful, a perfect time for a drive, but I couldn’t enjoy much of it; my car was running, but barely.
“Almost there,” I pleaded with her. She had almost stalled on the freeway and my heart had dropped. But somehow, the faithful machine made it all the way up the driveway to the mansion.
The place looked different in the daylight. Not exactly one to appreciate the finer things in life, even I marveled at its elegance, the architecture of the building, and its yard decor. A seven-stall car garage I hadn’t noticed was tucked behind the huge pillars and tinted windows. The whole thing was exquisite.
I didn’t know where to park, so I chose to put my car as close to the house as I could. No one seemed to be around, though a couple vehicles littered the roundabout driveway. My heels clicked on the sidewalk as I walked up to the huge oak door, knocking tentatively. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to get rid of these pre-date jitters.
Pre-date? This isn’t a date, I reminded myself. Or, maybe it was. Mason had been oddly cryptic over the phone.
I almost toppled over at the sight of Mason, who answered the door himself. A thin white shirt hugged his muscular upper half, while fitted black pants covered his legs. His hair just barely curled around the collar of his shirt. “Hello,” he smiled cheerfully, stepping aside to let me come in. “Hungry?”
“A little,” I admitted, walking in, noting the absence of security guards.
Even the furniture looked different, as we walked into the main living room. The bars had been removed, replaced with decorative couches that I was sure served very little function other than to be admired. In one corner of the room, by the huge window that led out to the back terrace, sat a slightly more comfortable looking couch, with a few trays filled with finger snacks on the coffee table in front of it.
“Sit,” Mason commanded, in a gentle way.
I couldn’t, not yet. The view from the terrace, something I hadn’t been able to see properly in the dark when I had gone out there with Xander, drew me in. The mansion sat atop a great hill, looking out over the lush forest surrounding the area and the hills in the distance. The view took my breath away.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Mason asked, his voice quiet.
“Yes.” I drew a little closer to the window. Something shiny near the roofline caught my attention, where I had noticed it before. This time, I could clearly see the lens of a camera peering down. “Ah,” I said, coming back to my senses. “Is he watching?”
“Is who watching?”
“Asher,” I said, motioning to the camera and repeating the name I’d heard the night before; the man I assumed to be in charge of all this.
Mason laughed. He had a nice laugh, not too gruff. I tried not to notice that, and kept my wits about me as I crossed my arms.
“Asher’s not watching through the camera, not today,” Mason said. “Don’t worry about him, Harper. Asher is pretty damn impressed with you. Just relax.”
I wasn’t exactly sure how to take that, so I said nothing.
“Champagne?”
I declined. “I appreciate the offer to come back, but I’m not interested in meeting any more bachelors. I only came back the other night for my friend.”
Mason nodded. “Did you at least enjoy last night?”
Unable to find my word
s with his gaze upon me, I simply nodded.
As I sat down, Mason reached across the table and grabbed hold of my hand. I resisted the urge to pull away; far greater was the urge to keep my fingers interlaced with his.
“I’m glad you came. I wanted to see you again.” Mason said. “I’m really impressed with you, Harper.”
There was that word again… impressed. It felt so formal, like he was about to offer me a job.
As he continued talking, I could feel myself slip back into my dream, imagining Mason laying me out and having his way with me. I knew if I were Avery, I’d have had him under me by now... I smiled to myself, hoping he didn’t notice.
“So, what do you think?” Mason sat anxiously, waiting for my response.
“I’m sorry, what?”
He looked amused, the corner of his mouth tilting upward in a crooked smile. “Do you want a job? No attending mixers as a bachelorette. You’d be staff.”
Of course. He was offering me a job.
“I don’t know anything about that sort of thing.” I immediately protested.
“The compensation is similar to what you’d earn if you were a guest,” Mason continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “And we’d have a chance to work together.”
I realized we were still holding hands. I removed mine, feeling suddenly awkward. He didn’t seem fazed. “I...” I fumbled with my words. “I don’t know. Can I have a chance to think it over?”
“Of course.” He said, his voice smooth. So smooth. “We don’t need to talk about it right now. You mentioned you’re a part-time student, didn’t you? What do you study?”
I couldn’t remember ever telling him I was a part-time student. I had said as much to Xander, but not Mason?
His phone rang. He apologized, answering it.
“Ah,” he shook his head as he hung up the phone, “Looks like you’re off the hook with that last question. I’m needed. If you can just wait a few moments, I’ll get right back with you. And eat something, for God’s sake.”
He stood, motioning for me to stay seated. His piercing eyes lingered on my face for a moment, before I blushed and turned away, uncomfortable under his intense gaze.
I looked down at my purse, sitting next to me on the couch. A white slip of paper was peeking out.
The envelope!
I looked up, planning to return it to Mason, but he was already gone.
Chapter Three
Mason
Snap out of it! I scolded myself as I turned the corner. My entire being felt excited and poised at the prospect of taking things further with Harper. But the second I had touched her hand, I could feel warmth flooding my body, even as she had sat there worrying.
There was no question; she had to accept the job.
Reaching my office, I opened the door. Natalie stood at my desk, frowning over some papers.
“What’s up?” I asked, not letting any emotion seep through my voice.
“Henry called,” Natalie said, looking up at me as her frown deepened. “He was reviewing the list and doesn’t remember picking an Avery Gains for his top five mixer.”
I strode over, taking the files from her hand, perusing them. “Ah, that’s right. No, everything is in order.”
She arched an eyebrow at me, folding her arms across her chest and shifting her weight from one hip to the other. “Asher, you’re lying.”
I rolled my eyes, suddenly catching a glimpse of movement on one of the large monitors behind Natalie’s head. Harper fiddled in her purse for something, then set the bag aside, playing with the fringe of her skirt.
“I know you edited the list,” Natalie accused. “You did this deliberately, didn’t you? Adding Avery to the list so Harper would come back?”
I didn’t answer. Harper looked around now, gingerly reaching out and grabbing the bottle of champagne I had opened for her. I watched in amusement as she poured some of the liquid into a glass, already beginning to sip on it. Apparently my absence had changed her mind about wanting some alcohol. I didn’t quite know if that was a good thing or not.
“Avery is a lovely fit for Henry, Natalie.”
“You sure about that, Mr. Know-It-All? Do you realize they’re roommates?”
“Henry and Avery are roommates?” I chuckled as I attempted to make light of Natalie’s accusations.
The entire time, my stare remained fixed on the monitors. Harper leaned back on the couch, uncrossing her legs, drinking her champagne. Her head turned toward the window again. The view obviously impressed her, and something about the way she looked out the window made me hungry for more of her, for more of her presence. I wanted—needed—to get to know her better.
“No, you idiot!” Natalie snapped, clapping in my ear. “Are you listening to a word I’m saying? Harper and Avery are roommates!”
“A lucky coincidence, then.” I replied, tearing my eyes away from Harper’s lithe figure to stare into Natalie’s frustrated face.
“Sure,” she scoffed. “You need to be careful, Asher.”
Suddenly I thought I smelled Harper’s scent in the room. I didn’t know whether it was perfume or some type of soap she had used, but I had smelled it clearly downstairs and could now smell it again. I wondered if some of it had clung to me after holding her hand and being so close to her.
I returned my gaze to the screen, watching as she grabbed the bottle of champagne again, filling up her glass. I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Natalie asked.
“There’s something different about her, something special.” I said, quietly.
“I’m sure she really appreciates you spying on her, too,” Natalie replied, bumping my shoulder with hers. “You need to be careful how you’re going about this, Asher.”
I waved Natalie away.
“Does this look familiar?” she asked, again drawing my attention away from Harper.
I looked down at a printed photo from one of our security cameras. A late model mustang, a little beat up, sat just outside the perimeter of the mansion. Peering closer I spotted someone—a man—sitting in the driver’s seat, watching the house. His face was too pixelated to make out, but I could see that his body was mostly covered by a dark sweatshirt of some sort.
“Someone decide to park on the road again?” I asked.
Natalie shook her head. “Security noticed them earlier.”
“Keep an eye on it. Otherwise, I think we’re done here,” I brushed past Natalie. She frowned at me again. “Don’t worry,” I assured her. “I’ll be careful. But I can’t leave a beautiful woman downstairs alone with a bottle of champagne.”
* * * *
Harper stood on the terrace now. Looking out over the expansive forest, streams, and hills, her hair and body soaked up the bright sun.
Her hair was the color of caramel, and looked silky enough to eat on this perfect afternoon. I imagined her skin was as soft as her hair, I could practically feel it against my fingertips as I ran a hand up her thigh in my mind, sneaking my fingers up that tight little dress. She held her champagne in her right hand, its bubbly texture reflecting the sunlight and sending small glimmers of light all across her short black dress.
From my vantage point, behind the clear glass windows, she looked like a beautiful painting. I looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her body while I knew she wasn’t looking at me.
She was an attractive woman. I had been surrounded by women for years, matching them up, flirting with them, living among them. But no one had ever affected me the way she had.
Her body was shapely, with subtle curves that connected into her long legs, only emphasized by her black high heels. I hadn’t seen her in such a revealing, classy dress before. I wondered if she had bought it just for me. Heat clawed at me, starting in my groin and working its way up.
She hadn’t done a single thing to attract my attention, yet I had found her out of the massed of single people that one night, and had been following her ever since. Why? I couldn’t put my finger on it
. Surely physical attraction was enough to spur me into action, but to become so enraptured by someone who I had practically just met? Out of the question, for me.
I had meant what I said to Natalie. She was different, special. She hadn’t been as simple as the other women, all milling about waiting for love to hit them with the latest bachelor. She hadn’t sought attention or wanted a thing from me, like so many other women I had dealt with before. She didn’t seem interested in money, or fortune of any kind. I wondered if she only felt a physical attraction toward me, or if some inexplicable force compelled her to want me for more, too.
I had never been a romantic, ironic since my job basically revolved around helping others to be. I thoroughly enjoyed finding others love, but I had never managed to find it myself. Natalie always said jokingly that it was because I was too nice, too sensitive for a real woman. But I didn’t really believe in all that happily ever after stuff; I knew that relationships took work on both sides, but all my previous relationships had ended up with me being the provider, the lover, the friend, and ultimately the heartbroken half.
I had promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t do that again.
She startled when I opened the glass door and walked toward her. At least she didn’t spill her drink, this time. Although the incident had been amusing to me, I knew she had been embarrassed by it.
“My apologies,” I said. “Natalie needed something.”
Harper nodded, her eyes taking me in before she turned her head back toward the view. I walked over to stand next to her, leaning on the railing and looking down across the expanse.
“I’m intrigued by this job offer,” she admitted. “I just don’t know how good I would be at all that matchmaking stuff, you know?”
I could have sworn I smelled her scent again, an almost peachy flavor. But before I could identify it for sure, the wind shifted direction and took it away.
