by Alexis Angel
I decide to call his secretary.
"You've reached the desk of Mason Kane, how can I help you?"
"Hi, it's Becca."
"Oh Becca! Hi! It's been a while," she says. "It's always good to hear from you. Where have you been? I've haven't seen you on our floor."
"I've been around," I say. "Just busy. Listen, I've been looking for Mason. Is he in the office today?"
She thinks for a moment and then responds. “He isn't taking calls. Can I take a message?"
"No, that's okay," I say, slightly pissed off that he’s not taking calls from me. Whatever list he made of people he’d take calls from I guess I didn’t make it. "Do you expect him back in the office today?"
"He asked me to re-schedule all of his meetings today, so I figure he isn't planning on returning today," she says.
"I see, do you have any idea where he might be right now then?”
She contemplates for a moment whether or not she should give me this information and then relents. "Between you and I, he's at the Four Seasons."
"The Four Seasons on 57th?" I ask.
"Yes, that's the one."
Thank you!" I shout. I hang up the phone and can barely contain myself. I need to catch Mason before he leaves. I need to leave now myself. I grab my purse and keys and throw on my coat. I run outside and hail a cab. I can feel the minutes ticking away. If I don't catch Mason at the Four Seasons, I may not have the opportunity again for a while. Especially with the way he's been playing hard to get.
A cab pulls up in front of me and I hop in, directing the driver to the hotel.
"As fast as you can, please," I tell the driver, and he listens because I hear the squeal of our tires against the asphalt.
Within minutes I'm at the Four Seasons. I pay the fare and run toward the hotel, which is situated in an ideal spot in the city—minutes from Central Park and the Museum of Modern Art. But I don't have any time to gawk and take in my surroundings. Instead, I run into the lobby.
I realize I didn't think to ask his secretary what he was doing here. Is he renting a room? Is he in the middle of a conference? Or?
I decide to walk up to the front desk.
There's a middle-aged woman in dark-rimmed glasses staring at me.
"Can I help you?" she asks.
"Yes, I'm looking for a Mr. Mason Kane. I think he may be renting a room here for the night."
The woman types the name into her computer and my heart is racing with each click of her keyboard.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. We don't have a Mason Kane booked for the evening."
Fuck.
"Thanks," I say, walking away from the desk and wondering what my next move will be. I start walking and then, by chance, notice a restaurant off of the main lobby. It's called The Garden and it's decorated with faux trees and plush, neutral colored chairs. It looks like an inviting enough place.
When my eyes scan the patrons, I can't believe my luck. I spot Mason … and he's dining with Lorna. They seem to be smiling, eating, and drinking cocktails.
What's he doing here, with her? I thought he wasn't even taking any of her calls?
None of it makes sense.
I debate whether or not I should approach them. On the one hand, if I walk up, I look like a desperate, lost puppy who can't keep her hands off of Mason. It feels like a blow to my ego. But on the other hand, if I don't talk to Mason now, there's no telling when I'll have the opportunity to again.
I take a deep breath.
I have to walk up to them. It's now or never.
I have to somehow let Mason know that I need to talk to him. It's important. I swallow my nerves and approach them.
Lorna is the first one to notice me.
"Becca, what a pleasant surprise," she says, flashing me a smile that is anything but friendly. It's like a viper ready to strike.
Mason looks up, and gives me a casual wave. There's nothing in his eyes or body language that suggests he's excited to see me, and it leaves me confused. Did he not receive the dozen or so text messages from me? Or has he somehow decided that he wants nothing to do with me?
My stomach sinks.
Maybe Lorna has finally succeeded in getting inside of his head?
It's hard to tell. And it's driving me crazy. I have so much I need to ask him, but I can't ask him with Lorna around.
"Would you like to join us?" she asks, motioning toward the empty seat at the table. As she says this, she slides her hand affectionately on top of Mason's and he doesn't pull away.
Perhaps I'm right.
Maybe she has finally gotten to him.
Mason
Great. Just fucking great.
The one person—the one woman—who I really didn't want to see here at this moment is now sitting in front of me.
She's been texting and calling me relentlessly, and I can't fucking face her. As of right now, I don't know what to say. I've been avoiding her for a reason.
Lorna points to the empty seat at our table and then slides her cold, thin hand on top of mine. It's supposed to be an act of affection to get under Becca's skin, but instead it gets under mine. I want to recoil, but I can't. Her touch repulses me. You have no idea to what end.
"Would you like to join us?" Lorna asks Becca.
Please say no, please say no, please say no, I beg to myself. It's a mantra I somehow hope she can subliminally pick up, but of course I know that's wishful thinking.
I look at Becca's face and I can see a range of emotions flash through her eyes. She's fighting the urge to leave, but she ultimately decides to stay.
"I think I have an extra few minutes to spare," she says.
Fuck. Of course she's deciding to stick around.
She looks at me, trying to decipher what's going on, but I refuse to hold her gaze. I can't stomach looking at her right now. I've ignored her for this long, what's another day, right? Except that every minute at this table seems to stretch out for a fucking eternity.
I bring my glass to my lips and take a drink of my tea. Before you shake your head, I'm not going soft. I'll be hitting the scotch soon enough, don't you worry, but for now, I'm taking it easy.
"So, what brings you two here?" Becca asks us, her brows knitted. She's trying to act casual.
Lorna turns to me and smiles. She brings her hand to my neck and gives it a gentle, affectionate squeeze. I can't help but picture her hand as a baby anaconda slithering around my shoulders and threatening to squeeze the life out of me at any moment.
"We're having a romantic night out," Lorna replies.
I nearly choke on my tea. Romantic? Is that what she calls this? That's a laugh. But of course Becca doesn't know any better. She's having a hard time wrapping her head around all of this, and honestly, I don't blame her.
It's 360 degree change from the last time we spoke.
It's true that I've been playing along, but this meal, together with Lorna, is far from romantic.
Becca eyes me suspiciously, but again, I look away. I still can't stand to look her in the eyes.
Just then, a waiter approaches us, bringing our food.
"Here's one plate of seared Ahi Tuna ribbons, with minted Mizuna salad and soy and toasted peanut dressing," the waiter says, placing it in front of Lorna.
"And here's one plate of basted prawns with spicy, golden pineapple, and smoked bacon," he continues, this time placing the food in front of me.
Our entire table smells of the Far East.
"Last, I have a side of toasted quinoa pilaf."
He places this one in the middle and then turns to Becca.
"Would you like to order anything ma'm?"
She has the menu open in front of her and is scanning their offerings. Just when I think she may not actually order anything, and it was all for show, she responds.
"Yes, I think I'll just have a salad—the Chicken Cobb, but please go light on the blue cheese … and buttermilk dressing."
"You bet. One Chicken Cobb will be out shortly ma'm," t
he waiter says, nodding his approval.
As soon as he leaves, and Lorna has Becca's full attention, she leans over and playfully kisses my neck and cheek. She's resting against my shoulder in what feels like an overly exaggerated way.
It feels that way because it is.
I catch a glimpse of Becca and her cheeks flush a deep pink.
Fuck. I can barely stand it.
This is killing me to go along with Lorna's games.
"This place is beautiful, isn't it Mason?" Julian asks me, turning toward me all of a sudden.
I nod, but don't say a word.
"And this is just the beginning," Lorna continues, raking the tips of her red fingernails through my hair and against my scalp. "We have quite the evening planned." She is now dragging her manicured hand across my chest.
She's trying so hard to rub all of this—her and I, and this meal, and this time together—in Becca's face, and it seems to be working.
Becca is becoming visibly upset, but she's working hard to keep her emotions in check. The waiter brings her salad and she instantly uses it as a diversion, crunching into the lettuce with her fork and scooping up some of the buttermilk dressing.
"Darling, excuse me for one moment," Lorna says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I need to use the restroom; I'll be right back."
"Take your time."
As soon as she is out of earshot, Becca explodes.
"Are you SERIOUS? What's going on Mason? I've been texting and calling you for days! You won't answer and you aren't showing up to the office. Are you avoiding me?"
"It's complicated," I say.
"Complicated? Is that all you can say? I've been needing to talk to you and you're acting as if I don't exist."
Seeing her like this makes my stomach do somersaults. It kills me. It really does.
"This wasn't my choice," I say.
"I've heard that before," she replies. "Just answer one thing for me. Is all of this real?"
"What, exactly, are you referring to?"
"THIS! All of this … the romantic meal, all of this outward affection … you and Lorna … all of it," she says. "Are you falling for her?"
I look into her eyes. Her confusion is palpable.
I want to tell her how I really feel, how I meant what I said before; I can't stand Lorna, but none of that comes out of my mouth.
For the first time in a long time, I'm nearly speechless.
"I have to do what's best for the company, Becca," I say.
I watch as tears tug at the corners of her eyes.
I'm fucking dying inside. Literally dying.
It's like someone is holding a match to my insides, burning me slowly, and there's nothing I can do about it except to allow my heart to be set ablaze.
Becca
I run out of the Four Seasons and onto Park Avenue not knowing where else to go. I just know that I need to get out.
Get out of there. Get out of that toxic situation.
I'm breathing hard. I'm panting.
My heart is racing. My eyes are seeing spots. I see stars, and not the good kind you see during sex, but the kind that makes me think I'm having a stroke.
My head is spinning and it feels like my entire stomach has fallen to the ground.
How could Mason just turn around and betray me like this?
Like it was no big deal? Like it was just a business decision.
Didn't he know that I was falling in love with him?
I mean, you noticed the signs, didn't you? When I talked about him, you could tell that I was falling in love with the guy, right?
Please tell me that I wasn't just feeling that in my head and actually driving him away or something. Please tell me that I didn't do something inadvertent to make this happen.
Wait.
Actually, no. Don't tell me anything.
I don't want to talk about that bastard for another second.
I can't believe him. That fucker!
I should have known to stay away from him from the first afternoon where I saw Mom leaving his apartment. You remember that night I tried to seduce him? Calling him Daddy? I bet he was laughing at me.
God, I bet he's just laughing at me right now, isn't he? I bet he and Lorna are just chuckling over how I'm nothing more than a stupid little girl who thought she was indulging a crush on her stepdad. It wouldn't surprise me if the Lorna knew this whole time and was just going along with the whole thing and laughing behind the scenes.
No, don't shake your head. After what Mason just pulled in there, anything is possible, you know.
I know you want to give him the benefit of the doubt and everything, especially since I'm pregnant with his baby. But trust me, he doesn't deserve it. He's an asshole who doesn't deserve to have the benefit of anything. I seriously hope that--
The skies open up above me and the first flash of lightning and crack of thunder goes through just as I'm angrily crossing the median divider of Park Avenue as I head west.
I notice that the skies have darkened. They're a whole lot darker now than they were just five minutes ago when I stormed out of the Four Seasons.
There's another flash and crack.
And within seconds, just as I get to the sidewalk, the first heavy drops of rain start to fall from the sky.
I don't have an umbrella, unlike everyone around me who seems to pull theirs out.
So I'm just walking down Park Avenue as the rain starts coming down.
I'm getting drenched. But you know what?
Fuck it.
I'm pregnant. Lonely.
The woman I thought was my mother actually has no relation to me. The only connection I truly have with her is that she caused my biological father to kill himself years ago.
The man that I thought of as my stepfather and who I thought I was falling in love with happens to have betrayed me worse than I've ever thought possible—trading in love and happiness for the chance to save his company by joining forces with the Devil.
Oh, and I'm also carrying his baby.
And if Mason is out of my life, then it's probably a good bet that I'm out of a job. I mean, either Lorna will come for me, or he will.
My "mother" has already kicked me out of her house. She could very easily require Mason to force me out of a job.
Which means that I wouldn't have enough money to even afford the walk-up apartment I have on the Lower East Side without a job.
Do you remember earlier on when you first met me I told you that I never really grew up knowing poverty or want?
I know I may have come across as a bit of a brat, basically saying oh I've been well off.
Well, guess what, hun. I'm broke, single, lonely, betrayed, pregnant, and drenched to the bone as I walk down New York City right about now.
I think if anything this whole experience has me humbled. A lot.
What? You don't believe me?
I mean, hun, I've lost everything I have. I've pretty much had everything either taken or stolen away from me since you met me.
Seriously, there is no way for a happily ever after from here.
There's only one thing that I can do, if I'm looking to survive right now.
I start to run downtown toward the Kane Price offices. I take off my shoes and run barefoot. What the fuck do I care at this point? I'm already soaked to the core in this downpour.
I make it to the 52nd Street and Park Avenue headquarters of Kane Price a few minutes later. The sidewalks have cleared out because of the rain and even the traffic is a lot slower. But I don't pay any attention to that, going into the building.
I can tell the few people in the lobby look at me in a mixture of puzzlement and curiosity but I seriously have no more fucks left to give as I find my ID badge and buzz myself past the security turnstiles and toward the elevator banks.
The security desk can't do anything to stop me if I'm wet as long as I have my security badge that gives me access.
The elevator takes me up to my floor. It's even
ing and a lot of people have left for the day so not too many people stare at me as I walk to my computer.
Water is literally dripping from my hair, face, and clothes. I'm definitely leaving a trail, but I don't care.
I go to my desk and turn on my computer.
It takes five minutes to copy everything I have on Red Lion Aviation and put all of the information on a secure USB that I plug into the computer. Once all the information has been transferred, I take the USB and put it in the driest corner of my purse.
The next thing I do is open up my email.
I compose a letter to my direct manager, deciding to copy Mason as well.
My manager is going to freak the fuck out, that's for sure. A lowly 21-year old intern is copying the billionaire CEO on her resignation letter.
"Dear Jonathan,
It is with great regret that I must tender my resignation from Kane Price effective immediately due to personal circumstances. I apologize for the lack of notice as well as the cryptic nature of my message.
Sincerely,
Rebecca Lowell"
As long as I resign first, then Mother can't come out and get Mason to fire me. Which means that at least I have a chance to restart my career on Wall Street.
Although, who am I kidding? If Mason is really sticking his cock inside Lorna and doing her bidding, I don't know if any place in the world will be safe for me.
A part of me is ready to cry. But the greater part of me is still in shock.
I idly wonder for a moment how Mason could be so evil. Something doesn't quite add up.
I mean, he held me in his arms. I remember looking into his eyes.
They were full of care. He was always concerned about me.
I don't understand. Was he lying the whole time? Was it just a game to him?
Or does he really care about me and maybe he really was starting to fall in love with me but he was willing to sell the whole thing just to make sure that Lorna wasn't going to take his company away from him.
In which case, he's chosen what is most important to him.
