by Dani Wade
A few very rough days later, EvaMarie bent from the waist and let her upper body hang toward the ground in an attempt to stretch her aching back. Since the work in the basement was scheduled to start simultaneously with the upstairs renovations, she had a week to get it completely emptied.
Which wasn’t nearly long enough to handle the relics from two generations—all by herself. Regardless, she still had to be ready for the moving team in two days.
Faintly she heard something through the sound of her own exertions and the radio she’d turned on to help keep her mind off how lonely this job was. Standing up straight, she cocked her head to the side, trying to get her bearings as the blood rushed down from her brain. Was that footsteps?
Crossing the room, she cut off the radio just in time to hear her name coming from the direction of the stairs.
Great. Just what she needed—Mr. High-and-Mighty, probably showing up to give her just one more task to demean her pride and heritage. He’d been unbearable these last few days.
Even though it irked her no end, sometimes she could almost understand. Being at someone else’s mercy wasn’t fun. And knowing that person could control the fate of your entire family? Definitely scary. Mason must have been so angry and petrified when he’d left here as a teenage boy.
But the constant interruptions and subtle—or not so subtle—digs as he demanded she clean out the garbage disposal, bag up and carry out trash, and clean his toilet, all while he watched with a smug expression had worn out her patience long ago. Hell, her father wasn’t even this obnoxious.
She hadn’t realized when she agreed to take this job that she’d be serving as his whipping boy.
“I’m in here,” she called as she heard him walk past her childhood playroom.
He stopped in the doorway with a hard step, back tight, frown firmly in place. “Why didn’t you answer me?” he demanded.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“What do you expect when you shut yourself away down here with a radio on? Anyone could have waltzed right on in and made themselves at home.”
She studied him for a minute, trying to figure out where this irritating attitude had come from. “You told me to come down here and clean it out so Jeremy could get work started,” she said, keeping her voice calm but unable to control lifting an eyebrow. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“Part of working for me is being available.”
Okay, she’d had about enough. “To do what? Kiss your feet?”
“What?” he asked, his head cocking to the side.
“Look, this high-and-mighty attitude is getting old—”
“You don’t like the new me?”
Not really...if he just weren’t so darn sexy.
“Ah, can’t say anything nice, huh?”
If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. How many times had her mother admonished her with those words? “It’s just unnecessary. I know you hate my guts, but wouldn’t it be more pleasant to be civil?”
“No,” he said with a grin that was just as smug as it was sexy. “I’m enjoying this just fine.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He took a few steps closer, managing to appear menacing even though the grin never left his face. “If you have a problem with me, you’re welcome to leave. I’ll even give you a day to get all of your stuff, and your family’s stuff, out.”
Right. She just stared, feeling her mask of self-preservation fall into place. She’d let him see way too much of herself by arguing with him. It accomplished nothing other than giving him more ammunition for pushing her buttons.
“What can I do for you then, boss?”
Mason smirked. He knew he had her right where he wanted her. “Come with me. You’re gonna love this.”
Probably not, but what choice did she have just yet? Soon though. Soon she’d have enough savings and steady work in her new career lined up to make it on her own. Until then, she simply needed to keep her head down and endure.
Of course, it didn’t stop her exhausted mind from questioning what task he had in store for her now—and whether her already taxed body was up to snuff for it.
The worry didn’t set in good until they’d already traversed the length of the upstairs hallway. Then she followed him out the side door and across the parking area in front of the four-car garage. They passed the gleaming pickup truck he drove and her own much older sensible sedan. Then he turned onto the path to the stables.
This couldn’t be good.
EvaMarie had taken on a lot of physical labor since her daddy had gotten sick, but one thing she’d never done was the heavy lifting in the stables. Feed the horses or brush and ride them—sure. But that was the extent of it.
Plus, she’d already worked all morning packing in the basement. And the day before that, and the day before that...
Mason finally paused beside the stall where EvaMarie’s mare Lucy resided. The satisfaction marking his face told her his anticipation was high. Too bad it was all at her expense.
No matter what, she wouldn’t cry in front of him.
“We’re bringing in our best mare later today from the home farm. Kane should be here this evening. I’ll be back in three hours to make sure this stall is cleaned and ready for her.”
EvaMarie studied him for a minute. Surely he was joking, pulling a mean prank. “But Jim’s not here.”
“You are.” His expression said he wasn’t budging.
Stand up for yourself. Automatically, her stomach clenched, nerves going alert just as they had her entire life. Taking a stand did not come naturally to EvaMarie. Her daddy had squashed that tendency when she was knee high to a grasshopper. “I don’t do stables.”
“Says who? Is that written down somewhere that I missed?”
Her jaw clenched, but she forced the words out anyway. “You know it’s not.”
“Welcome to the world of manual labor.” He skirted back around her, heading for the barn door. Even the sight of that high, tight butt in fitted jeans didn’t lift her mood. “Have it done in three hours,” he called over his shoulder.
“I can’t!”
Mason turned back with a frown. “Princess, employees shouldn’t try to get out of work. It doesn’t look good on their evaluations.”
“But I’m already working. In the house.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind getting dirty.”
Five
This was gonna be so much fun...
Mason eyed the man in the dark suit who stood near the side door to the house, staring at it as if he could divine who was inside through the exalted abilities of his birthright alone. The tight clench of Mason’s gut and surge of anticipation told him that his body remembered this man well...and the role he’d played in the destruction of Mason’s family all those years ago.
He hadn’t actually seen Laurence Weston since he and Kane had returned to town, but Mason had hoped he would have the chance to rub the snitch’s nose in his success at some point.
He just hadn’t planned on doing it here at the Hyatt estate.
“May I help you?” Mason’s words were polite. His tone...not so much.
Laurence turned to face him with an expectant expression that reminded Mason of his own youthful expectation of having everything go his own way. Laurence had felt the same, only exponentially, and he’d made it a point to let those “beneath” him know their purpose was to serve—and not much else.
“I’m looking for EvaMarie.”
“Right.” Mason turned for the stables, leaving Laurence to follow if he wanted.
At least, Mason assumed she’d still be out here. Was she capable of cleaning out a stall in three hours? A month ago, Mason would have answered with an emphatic “no,” but he grudgingly admitted that EvaMarie had changed a l
ot since he’d last seen her. Other than knowing how to saddle a horse, the teenage girl he’d fallen hard for wouldn’t have known how to work the business end of a shovel, or pitchfork, or rake... Though he hadn’t been there to see the actual work, the adult EvaMarie had made some impressive headway inside the house this week, without any help that he could tell.
Which just irritated him even more. Why was she working so hard, staying so loyal to a family who had obviously taken her hard work and obedience for granted? Which led him to do stupid things like put her to work in the barn...
A glance into the stall showed that she was indeed capable of cleaning one in a few hours. The straw bedding and buckets were fresh and clean. There wasn’t even a hint of manure in the aisle for Laurence to step in, darn it—Mason would have loved to see those Italian loafers ruined.
Petty, he knew. Just like giving the princess the job of cleaning the stables. But this man—when he’d been a boy—had deliberately told EvaMarie’s father where to find them together, simply because he’d wanted EvaMarie for himself. Considering they weren’t married now, it must not have worked out the way Laurence had planned.
As they moved farther into the cool, dim depths of the stables, Mason heard the low hum of a husky voice. His entire body stood up to take notice. Man, that siren voice had played along every nerve he had when they were dating, lighting him up better than any drug. Sometimes just talking to EvaMarie on the phone was as good as seeing her in person. Now he felt the same physical charge—no other woman’s voice had ever affected him like that.
More’s the pity.
She’d grown into its depth though. As she came into view talking to one of the mares in a stall farther down, he compared the wealth of hair piled on her head and strong, curvy body to the delicacy she’d possessed as a young woman. His daddy had said she wouldn’t stand up to one good birthing.
Then.
Now she was a strong woman capable of handling what life dished up to her—so why was he piling on the manure?
Before he could do something stupid like voice his thoughts, EvaMarie glanced up, spying him over the horse’s back. Her features expressed the weight of her exhaustion, emphasized by the dirt smudging her cheeks and the pieces of hay sticking out at odd angles from her hair. But her words were as polite as always. “The stall is ready.”
Which was what he’d wanted, right? He’d set out to demonstrate the hard work he’d done for her father once upon a time. Teaching her a lesson was his aim in keeping her here, wasn’t it?
So why didn’t seeing her like this, exhausted and dirty, make him happy?
“Why the hell are you cleaning stalls?”
As Laurence’s voice exploded in his ear, EvaMarie looked to Mason’s left with wide eyes. “Laurence?” she asked.
The other man stepped around Mason and got a good look at EvaMarie’s disheveled state. “What is going on, EvaMarie? You don’t answer the phone. You don’t show up for this week’s committee meeting. And now this?”
Mason could feel the hairs on the back of his neck lift, hackles rising as another male attempted to assert himself in Mason’s territory. And he wasn’t at Laurence’s mercy like he’d been as a kid.
“Shouldn’t you be asking me that?” Mason said, stepping around to take a stand between Laurence and the stall door. “After all, I’m the boss around here.”
Laurence’s incredulous glance between the two of them almost made Mason laugh. Obviously this was something he couldn’t comprehend. Finally Laurence asked, “And who are you, exactly?”
Mason wanted to smirk so badly. In fact, it may have slipped out before he caught it. “I’m Mason Harrington.”
It took a minute for the name to register. After all, what need would Laurence have had for that nugget of information all these years? Then his eyes widened, his gaze cataloging the adult Mason. “And you’re the boss, how?”
Behind him, Mason heard the stall door open, but he wasn’t about to let EvaMarie deprive him of the joy of putting Laurence in his place. “I’m the new owner of the Hyatt Estate.”
Laurence trained his hard gaze on EvaMarie. “How is that even possible?”
The rich never wanted to believe that one of their own could fall...unless the fall worked to their advantage somehow.
“The estate went into foreclosure, Laurence,” EvaMarie said in a hushed tone. “We were forced to sell.”
Mason braced his legs, arms crossing firmly over his chest. “And I simply couldn’t wait to buy.”
“Wasn’t your dad just a jockey? A trainer of some kind?”
If anything, Mason’s spine stiffened even more. “He was a one-of-a-kind trainer whose career you ruined with your little disclosure to EvaMarie’s father all those years ago.”
Laurence’s gaze narrowed, but Mason wasn’t about to let him get away without hearing the facts. “But it didn’t matter in the end. Upon his death, my father left Kane and I enough money to buy this estate and start our own stables. Probably five times over.” He took a step closer, edging the other man back. “We may have been easy targets back then, but threatening us now would be an unwise move...for anyone.”
Laurence stood his ground for a minute more, though Mason was close enough to see the staggering effect his current situation had on Laurence. “How is that even possible?” he asked.
“I know it’s hard to imagine someone bettering their circumstances through hard work—” and a lot of deprivation “—but the truth is, I earned it.”
* * *
I earned it.
Those words rang in EvaMarie’s ears as she ushered Laurence back toward his Lincoln. Mason was right—he’d always worked hard. Since she’d been working for them, it had become very obvious he and Kane had no plans to rest on their laurels and simply enjoy their money.
She couldn’t help comparing Mason to Laurence, who had gone to a good school thanks to his daddy’s money, coasted by and gotten a job in his daddy’s real-estate business where he sold off of his personality when he actually tried, and let someone else handle the paperwork for minimum wage.
She wasn’t immune to his faults, but he was the one friend who had stuck with her all this time, despite knowing some of the realities of the Hyatts’ situation. He was also the only one her parents had let see what was really happening to them. Even though they were holding out hope she’d eventually give in and marry him, this was the one area of her life where she’d built a wall of resistance.
“How could you let this happen, EvaMarie?” Laurence asked, digging his expensive heels into the driveway to bring them to a halt. “All you had to do was call me. I could make all of this go away. Easily.”
Only if she accepted his conditions. In that, he and Mason were very similar—every offer came with strings. Why Laurence was so insistent that he wanted her, she couldn’t fathom. With his uninspired track record when it came to work, he should have given up long ago.
“I told you I can handle myself.”
“By losing the family estate? Great job.”
That stung.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he went on. “Tell me you were in this much trouble?”
“It was my dad’s decision whether or not to share. You know how careful he is. He didn’t want word to get around.”
Laurence shook his head, hands on his hips. “He’s not gonna be able to hide it for long with those yahoos horning in.”
That sounded like sour grapes to EvaMarie. “Regardless,” she said, “I’m simply staying until everything is up to standards. By then, my plans will allow me to support myself.”
“Plans to do what? Work yourself to death?” He grabbed her forearm. “Spend your days dirty?” He used his hold to give her a good shake. Her irritation shot through the roof. Laurence’s voice rose to match. “Where do I stand in those
plans?”
EvaMarie felt her backbone snap straight despite her fatigue. “Don’t. Start.”
His grip tightened, as if he was afraid she’d escape. He crowded in close, giving her an uncomfortable view of his frustration. Memories of several such confrontations with her father caused her stomach to knot.
“You know I can give you the life you deserve,” Laurence insisted, his breath hot on her face. “Pampered and taken care of instead of cleaning up after your parents and that guy.” His expression tightened with disgust as he assessed her with a sharp glance. “I mean, look at you.”
Yes, look at me.
For a moment, just a brief moment, she was tempted to stop fighting and let someone handle life for her for a change. Tears of exhaustion pushed their way to the fore.
“It’s what our parents always wanted,” Laurence said, his voice deepening. It was low and husky in a way that left her cold. It shouldn’t...but it did. But he was insisting... “We’d be perfect together.”
Until the thrill of getting what he wanted wore off. Through years of dealing with Laurence, EvaMarie had learned he was like a big child who wanted a toy to entertain him and an adult to handle all the hard stuff. After the goal was accomplished, EvaMarie would simply be left taking care of Laurence, just as she did everyone else, and be expected to make his life as easy as possible.
Hers would be just as hard. Just as lonely. But he didn’t see it that way.
“Everything okay?”
EvaMarie glanced to the side and saw Mason eyeing Laurence’s hand on her arm.
Laurence glared, refusing to budge. “Yes,” he insisted.
Ever the diplomat, EvaMarie reached up to pat his hand with hers, wincing at the unexpected pain in her palms. “Everything’s fine,” she agreed. Then she gave Laurence a hard look. “Goodbye, Laurence. I’ll see you at the library committee meeting next week.”
He looked ready to protest, but then adopted a petulant expression and let go of her arm. Because it was easier. Because in the end, he was still an overgrown child.
Which was evidenced by his defiant gunning of his engine on the way out. EvaMarie rubbed her arm, once again feeling that sharp pain in her palm. She glanced down, but one quick peek at the red, raw patches on her skin had her hiding her hands by her sides.
