Rolling her eyes as he turned to walk away she let out a deep breath until she saw he’d stopped and looked back. “Oh, and Lena, don’t even think about not being here tomorrow. I know where you work.”
She glared at him as he walked away, not even waiting for her answer.
The following morning, Mason decided to drop by and see his mother. After all, the last time he’d spoken to her he hadn’t been on his best behavior. He parked his car at the rear of her shop and made his way to the back entrance. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and heard the chimes tinkle as he stepped inside. Immediately he was hit with the fragrance his mother wore, Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds, mixed with a combination of red roses, petunias, and huge yellow sunflowers. The flowers were all sitting by the back door, and had probably just been delivered. He wandered up the main aisle searching for her. As a child, Mason had loved his mother’s store. It had always reminded him of an enchanted forest. His mother and sister always accused him of being too charming for his own good and when you added in flowers— well, a woman didn’t stand a chance. That thought then brought Lena to mind. Now there was a woman who was obviously not impressed with flowers. He tried to remember why and how he’d ended up asking her for a date tonight other than being a complete masochist. He rounded the end counter where his mother had set up a small water fountain and saw her standing at the front of the store in the display window arranging a vase of pink, yellow, and white tulips.
She was wearing a blue shirt that brought out her light blue eyes that both he and his sister had ended up inheriting, although his were a shade darker. She paired it with a long black skirt that swished around her ankles and had her red shop apron on with Precious Petals by Catherine embossed in black across the front. He watched as she turned and noticed him. A smile lit up her face as she greeted him.
“Hey there, Mom.”
She looked up with three pink tulips in her hand and grinned at him.
“Mase! How are you?”
Mason put his keys on the bench and walked around to her. Reaching down to put his hands on her shoulders, he kissed her cheek. “I’m good. How are you this morning? I see you got more sunflowers in. I didn’t realize they were such a big seller?”
She smiled up at him. “Oh, yes! They came in this morning. They’re so happy, aren’t they? I always feel like they’re smiling at me when I look at them.”
Mason nodded as she walked around him, wiping her hands on her apron as she moved over to the counter. “So what brings you by, dear?” She paused, looking at her computer, then back to him. “Not that you need a reason, but this is an unexpected visit after you yelled at me yesterday morning.”
Absolutely no one could make Mason feel guilty like his mother. He walked around the counter and leaned against it, watching her as she scrolled through the first orders of the day.
“Well, I actually came by to apologize to you,” he said, automatically thinking of Lena and her horrible attempt at an apology. Pushing her from his thoughts for the moment, he heard his mother say, “Oh, you did, did you?”
“Yep.” Mason smiled as she turned to face him and leaned her waist against the counter in a pose that mirrored his. She reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear.
“And what are you apologizing to me for, son? Yelling at me or hanging up on me?”
Mason grinned and shook his head. “I did not yell at you.”
“This does not sound like a good apology to me,” she said in a singsong voice.
“All right, all right.” Mason chuckled. “I apologize for yelling at you and hanging up on you.”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “That’s quite all right, son. Obviously something had you quite upset.”
“Yes, at the time I was upset, but I’ve since come to terms with it.” Thinking with a chuckle of Lena as the it in question.
“Well, good! I’m glad to hear it. I just hate when my boy is upset.” Turning, she walked back down the aisle he’d come in from. He grabbed his keys and followed her, stopping by the bright yellow sunflowers. She turned to beam at him. “See? Don’t you feel like they just smile at you?”
Mason swung his keys around his fingers. “Yeah, Mom, they do. I still don’t know why you order so many. Don’t people usually buy them one at a time?”
He watched as his mom twirled one in her hand. “Yes, usually. I have one customer who buys one every day.”
Mason felt his eyebrows rise. “Really? Every day?”
His mother smiled, and then looked at him. “Yes, dear, every day.”
“Wow. I wonder who they’re for.”
His mother reached out to touch his cheek. “It’s not my job to ask, son. I just make sure I have what’s needed.”
Mason nodded, understanding that his mother, in some ways, was like a confessor and counselor of sorts. Someone that people went to when they wanted their happiness celebrated, their guilt assuaged, or their grief expressed. She touched more people in a day than he did in a week. She was a wonderful person and he knew he was lucky as hell to have her.
“Well, I just wanted to come by and say sorry for being a jerk and that I love you.”
She smiled, reached out, and squeezed his hand. “Well, thanks for that, son. I love you, too.” She paused and smiled widely. “Even when you’re being a jerk.”
Lena sat and stared at the files in front of her. It had just turned three p.m. and she’d been busy all morning. She’d had patient after patient and she hadn’t been able to stop and eat, let alone think. She’d worked on a five-year-old boy today who had a piece of chalk wedged in his right ear. Extracting it hadn’t been pleasant for anyone in the room, including Lena, who’d felt horrible for the child who started screaming the minute he saw the long pair of bayonet forceps going toward his ear. Lena grimaced, remembering the crying child, the worried mother, and her own immense headache. It felt like hours, but in fact had been twenty excruciating minutes.
However, the day had finally slowed down and she found her mind wandering to Mason Langley. She hated to admit it, but last night, after the frustrating and humiliating turn of events, she was curious. What kind of man was he?
Okay, so he was gorgeous, she grudgingly admitted to herself, but what kind of man would practically dare her to go on a date with him?
She turned to the computer and clicked onto Google. She thought for a moment and wondered what she should search. Just his name? Or the restaurant’s name? Moving closer to the desk she typed in – Mason Langley, Owner of Exquisite.
Up flashed images of him flashing that devastating smile and Lena sighed; she didn’t see one bad photo. Ugg! Scrolling down past the four images that were displayed, she came across a couple of articles. Not too many on Exquisite, but it was relatively new so that made sense, but then she noticed an article titled How Mason Langley Broke My Heart! Jackpot, Lena thought with a smug smirk. She clicked it open and sat back in her chair to read.
The interview was from the local gossip magazine Right Now! It was a fluff piece on a woman who had ‘dated’ the owner of Exquisite. It went on to explain how she had been seeing him and thought it was exclusive but then found out, via the media no less, that he was hugging and dating another woman.
Typical, Lena thought, then scrolled right down to the bottom and something caught her eye. There at the end of the interview was a quote from the brokenhearted Debbie. ‘I thought he was the one, but I later found out that I was apparently number 33 this year in his string of women.’
Lena sat back in her chair. Thirty-three? It wasn’t even mid-May yet! How could one man have the energy to date that many women? Let alone sleep with them? Then, of course, her mind started wandering to Mason in bed and Lena doubted when he was there he did any sleeping. Not to mention, did they really need to mention his favorite color was sky blue? Groaning to herself, she dropped her head onto her arms and thought why on earth had I agreed to this? Then she reminded herself, oh, that’s right. He suckered me i
nto it with his manipulating words and those damn dimples.
She sat back in her chair and stared at the phone. She’d spent all day contemplating calling the restaurant and canceling but had stopped herself at the last minute. She didn’t want to be a coward. In his own way he’d issued a dare of sorts to turn up, or he’d come find her.
She stood up to go to the cafeteria when Shelly knocked on her door.
“Oh, are you on your way out?”
Lena shook her head. “I’m just going to get something to eat.”
Shelly looked at her watch. “I can come with you. My schedule’s been cleared for the afternoon.”
Lena nodded and started walking with her to the elevator. “What? People don’t need to breathe today?” It was a standard joke between her and the pulmonologist.
“Yes, they do. But right now I need to eat.” She paused and then winked at Lena. “And gossip.”
“I knew it.” Lena groaned as they got in the elevator.
“So you are going tonight?” Shelly probed.
“Of course I’m going. He threatened to come and get me if I didn’t,” Lena grumbled.
“Hmmm. I’m not sure that would be a bad thing, Lena. I think I’d let that man drag me anywhere he wanted to.”
Lena rested her head on the back wall. “The man is infuriating.”
“He’s gorgeous.”
“He’s frustrating.”
“He’s charming.”
Lena rolled her head against the wall to glare at her friend. “He is a serial womanizer. I don’t need this.” The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. They got off and walked into the cafeteria.
“You don’t need what? A good-looking man to go on a date with?”
Lena picked up a tray, showed her badge, and then moved with Shelly down the aisle. She picked up a ham and turkey sandwich. “I don’t need a distraction, a complication.”
Picking up a bottle of apple juice, Shelly stated, “What you’re really saying is you don’t need emotional distractions, but Lena honey, I’ve never met anyone who needs it more.”
She paused and picked up a granola bar and kept moving. Lena looked at Shelly’s tray. “That’s all you’re eating?”
Shelly nodded. “I ate a sandwich earlier. Don’t change the subject. You’ve been really bad lately, even for you. Late in the mornings. I know you aren’t sleeping for shit and I don’t think even you can remember the last time you had any fun, let alone sex.”
Lena’s head whipped around to her friend. “Who said anything about sex?”
Shelly laughed, “Lena, did you see that man? It was implied the minute he smiled and those sexy-ass dimples appeared.”
Lena slid into the seat groaning and put her head into her hands. “I don’t want this, Shelly. I don’t want a distraction or something to take my mind off things. I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Shelly stated bluntly. “You’re a mess. You’ve detached yourself from anything even remotely resembling a relationship.”
“That’s not true,” Lena said, biting into her sandwich. Then, mumbling around it, she continued, “I have a relationship with you.”
Shelly smiled, chewing her granola bar. “That’s true, but only because I make you be nice to me. But even I won’t have sex with you, Lena. Come on. When was the last time you had a man in your bed?”
Lena grimaced. It’d been a long time and even then, it had been in his bed and she’d sneaked out the moment he’d rolled off and fallen asleep. “Three years and two months.”
“Holy shit!” Shelly gasped loud enough that other people looked.
“Shut up!” Lena hissed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Jesus, Lena. How are you not more of a bitch? I will never know. How do you deal with it?”
“Well, I just try to take each day at a time and pray that there’s a cure,” Lena replied, her voice dripping with derision. “It isn’t a deadly disease, Shelly,” she snapped. “Plus, there are other ways to ahh . . . you know.”
Shelly grinned and then laughed loudly. “Ah, Lena, just when I think you’re losing your sense of humor.”
“Shut it, Shelly.”
Her friend laughed and stuffed the rest of the granola bar in her mouth.
Mason was sitting in his office at the restaurant when Rachel came in with a pile of paperwork in her hands.
“I’m assuming that’s for me?”
Smiling, she dumped it on the corner of his desk and sat down opposite him. Her black hair was in a high top ponytail today, leaving the red tips to swing back and forth freely. Her bright glossy lips stretched into a smile.
“Yep. Receipts and balances from last night, boss. You made a killing.”
Mason smiled at her as he leaned back in his chair. Rachel had followed in his footsteps and become a pastry chef and he’d snatched her up the minute he could get her to stop globetrotting. She was an amazing artist and a genius with desserts, and was fast gaining a reputation as the best in the business. Mason also loved making her do menial things, such as chopping vegetables, to keep her humble—and well, because he could.
“We made a killing. You have stakes in this place as well.”
Nodding, she grinned, looking like a twelve-year-old instead of thirty. She was a free spirit and expressed herself through any means possible, from the food she created to the red tips in her hair. Today she was dressed in black and white checked chef pants and a purple chef jacket Mason had specifically ordered for her.
“So? Are you going to tell me who you were talking to at the bar last night?”
Mason knew exactly to whom she was referring to but feigned indifference. “I spoke to a lot of people last night.”
“Don’t try and be cute with me, Mason Langley. The buttoned-up suit you tried unsuccessfully to charm.”
Mason’s mouth dropped open and he blinked at his sister. “How do you know it was unsuccessful?”
“’Cause Wendy said the suit called you disgusting.”
“Interfering, gossipy women,” he mumbled.
“Aww, come on, Mase. You know you love us.”
He raised his left eyebrow and rocked back in his leather chair. “Well, Wendy is half right. She doesn’t really like me a whole lot at the moment, but I did get her to go on a date with me tonight.”
“By what, threatening her?”
“No, I kind of manipulated her into it,” he admitted with a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. Rachel laughed and slapped her palm on her leg.
“Wow, that has to be a first for you, right? Usually women throw themselves at your feet.”
“It’s not quite that dramatic, Rachel.”
She tilted her head to the side and looked at him thoughtfully. “Do you forget I had a girl ask if she could give her panties to you?”
Mason looked at her with his mouth opened, shocked she would even bring that up. “Oh, come on. That was one time and I think you misjudged her.”
“Her panties, Mason,” she said slowly and loudly, enunciating each syllable. “She couldn’t just write her name on paper but on the crotch of her panties.”
“Look, it was a one-off thing and I don’t really think you need to keep bringing it up.”
Rachel screwed her nose up and stood. “No, I guess I don’t, but really? That’s so gross.” She walked to the door and looked back. “She didn’t make it easy for you. I like her already.” Then she disappeared out the door. Mason sat in silence and thought I don’t think anything about Lena is going to be easy.
Chapter Four
Lena found herself climbing out of a taxicab once again, in front of Exquisite. This time, however, she knew Shelly wasn’t inside to act as her buffer. She ran through all the different scenarios she could use to leave early. Excuses. Her pager could go off, except she wasn’t on call. Maybe the cab had broken down, got a dead battery, a flat tire? Yeah right—as if he’d believe that. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as she opened the door and stepped out into
the cool air. It wasn’t even the fact that she was going to meet him. It was the whole situation she couldn’t stand. The false conversation they would have over dinner that would then lead to the awkward silences and fake interest he’d show. So she could be what? Lucky number thirty-four? Please, she thought, looking around, can’t something give me a plausible means of escape? When nothing immediately presented itself, Lena trudged inside, repeating the phrase the sooner I arrive, the sooner I can leave.
Mason was still in his office when Wendy came through door grinning. “Guess who just walked in?”
Mason dropped his pen and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess my date.”
“Yep.” Wendy said, popping the P. “And she looks miserable,” she added in a singsong voice.
“Now why do you say that like you’re enjoying it?” Mason asked as he stood straightening the desk. Wendy leaned her shoulder against the frame. “Because I’ve never seen a date of yours turn up in a pantsuit ensemble looking as though she just swallowed a lemon.” Whistling low between her lips, she tacked on, “Boy, she really doesn’t want to go on a date with you, huh?”
Mason came around the desk and walked right up to her. “I’ll have you know,”—he paused, watching her tilt her head as he grinned. “You’re exactly right. She’s probably out there looking for the fire escape.”
Wendy laughed and rolled her eyes. “Then why’d you ask her out?”
Walking past her to the entrance he answered, “I was just wondering that myself.”
Lena saw him the minute he stepped out from behind the huge frosted doors at the far end of the restaurant. She remained at the front by the hostess stand, seemingly glued to the wall, as he started to move toward her. He was dressed in the same black slacks but with a white button-down shirt over them. The sleeves were rolled up mid-arm and his watch glimmered as he walked under the lights. His long legs seemed to eat up the distance and before she knew it, he was standing in front of her.