Page 39 of Drawn to You
As if he casts a spell on me, I fell into a deep sleep right away. When I come to, I hear Mason call my name. “Hey Brittney, wake up!”
I yawn as I rub my eyes.
Mason’s house is gated, just like Andrew’s, but Mason’s gotten a vast lawn with a waterfall fountain in the middle. It’s night, but both the yard and the house are well-illuminated.
“Wow,” I murmur despite my reluctance to be here.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” he says again smugly. “I bought it for ten million three years ago, but it’s worth a lot more now.”
He stops the engine on the driveway and gets out of the car. And then he comes around and opens the door for me.
“I’ll just wait here for you,” I say, yawning. “I want to nap a bit longer.”
“Oh, no! That’ll be rude of me. Come on!” he says and drags me out of the car.
As I hesitate, a middle-aged woman in a maid’s outfit opens the door to the living room for us. “Good evening, Mr. Meyer.”
“Good evening, Maria. This is my friend Brittney.”
“Hi Brittney,” Maria says with a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“Dinner is ready, sir. Would Brittney be joining you?”
“No thanks,” I say quickly.
“She won’t,” Mason says. “I’m going to show her the guesthouse. Bring us something to drink. Orange juice will be fine.”
Guesthouse? What’s he talking about? I’m confused. I try to think, but my head is all foggy. “I thought you were just dropping off his gym bag,” I manage to say.
“Yeah, but I got a better idea,” Mason takes my hand and walks me across the lawn. “I can rent you the guesthouse.”
“Are you sure? That’ll be nice,” I mutter. It’s pretty nice out here, and I wouldn’t mind lying down on the grass.
We stop in front of a cottage behind some giant trees.
“You want to rent this house to me?” I ask, fighting the grogginess in my head. “I don’t think I can afford it. It looks expensive.”
“Come in and take a look first,” he says and opens the door.
When he turns on the light, my head clears up a bit. The guesthouse is spacious. It’s better than some of my friends’ houses, not to mention the apartment I’m renting. It has a living area, a bedroom, and a bathroom.
I like the place, but I’m afraid to ask for the price.
“I’ll give you a discount since you’re a friend,” Mason says as if he heard my thoughts.
“A friend?” I mumble. I don’t remember being friends with him. “How much is it going to be?”
He pauses for a second. “To tell the truth. I don’t even know the market price. What’s your price range?”
“Under a thousand.”
“Okay. Let’s make it a thousand,” he says.
“Really?” I can’t believe it. There’s something not quite right about it, but I’m too dizzy to think. “Why’re you so nice?”
He gazes into my eyes for a moment and sits down on the couch, patting the spot next to me. I plop down as if being hypnotized, and then I lean into the back of it and close my eyes. Jeez. What I need is a bed at the moment.
