Page 10 of Sapphire Spring

“I said that the next day.”

“You take checks?” Mason opened his desk drawer.

“I don’t want your check,” she said.

“I’m good for it, babe.” Mason grinned.

“Your dad’s good for it.”

“Low blow, sweetheart. Last time I checked, you were workingat a family firm too.”

“And I’ve managed not to sleep on the floor since I started.And don’t call me sweetheart, Johnnie Walker.”

“You know, usually when we go at each other like this, we’dend up goingateach other, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” she said, “and no thanks. That’slike, no thanks forever.”

“Am I really that bad?” Mason gave her his best pouty face.

She went stiff and quiet, which is what Fareena always didwhen she was fighting emotions she didn’t like. “You’re not bad, Mason. I’m justtired of waiting for that moment in between your third drink, when you’re allsweet and sexy, and your fifth, when you get…messy.”

“What did I break?” Mason asked.

“My mother’s favorite vase. You were reliving a moment ofhigh school football glory, and you decided to spike it.”

Mason tried not to wince as shame coursed through him.“Cash, then?”

“No. I need you to attend an event with me on Friday.”

“Sowe’re not dating and we’re notsleeping together anymore. But you want me to go on a date with you this weekend.”

“It’s not a date.” Fareena stood. “You are accompanying meto an event, and once we’re there, I’ll tell you what I need from you. That’show you’ll make it up to me.” Fareena placed her hands on her hips and tappedboth sets of manicured nails twice against the fabric of her pants, her typicalgesture forThis meeting is adjourned.

“Three-ways aren’t usually my thing, but I’m open.”

“We had a three-way, Mason. A long one.”

“With Thalia?”

Fareena leaned over his desk and dropped her voice to a whisper.“With Michael.”

“Your gay friend,” Mason whispered.

“Michael isn’t gay. He’s bi. Likeyou.”

Mason’s pulse roared in his ears. If he wasn’t already feelingthe spins, he might have stormed out of his office right there, but instead hefelt pinned to his chair by the ferocity of Fareena’s stare. “It’s thetwenty-first century, Mason. Have you ever thought that maybe you judgeyourself more harshly than anyone else?”

“Have you met my father?” Mason growled.

Fareena nodded and held up her hands in a gesture ofsurrender. “Fair enough,” she whispered. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“And Michael?”

“You left him very satisfied. Don’t worry.”

But he was worried. And he’d stay worried. Probably until hecould get home and put some more hair on the dog.

“Is he going to be there on Friday?” Mason asked.

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