Page 44 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
“Isn’t that great?” AshLynn trills.
My dad holds up his hand to indicate he’s not through. “I’ve also taken the liberty of putting a down payment on a plot of land in a new upscale community just up the road from where Cassandra and I live. It’s close to us, to the office, and to the club back home. Think of it as an early wedding gift.”
AshLynn beams and bounces in her seat.
If she’s not careful she’ll bounce her bosoms right out of that dress.
Mason chokes. On what I’m not sure. I reach over to pat him on the back, then blush as I remember brushing off his bottom earlier today.
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t need a job from you,” he says to my dad.
Dad looks at him, surprised. “Oh, do you already have something lined up?” my dad asks.
“Lined up?” Mason asks.
“A job, do you already have a job lined up? Or housing.”
“I already have a job. And if I need housing, I will take care of it.”
“It sounds like our job here is finished, Jonathan. He doesn’t want anything from us,” Cassandra says, sounding offended.
“I think what Mason is trying to say is that it’s very generous of you, Daddy,” AshLynn says.
“I think what I’m trying to say is that we are leaving out some vital steps here,” Mason says.
The server delivers the mimosas. Mason drains his immediately and asks for another.
“Shall I bring a pitcher?” the server asks.
“Yes,” Mason answers without checking with anyone else. He folds his hands on the table in front of him. “Mr. Brooks, let me be clear, I’m not an office work kind of person. I’m in construction. I like construction. I don’t plan to change that.”
“Hmm.” My dad rubs his chin, thinking. “Well, first, you must call me Jonathan. We’re due to be family after all. Construction, huh. Very worthy trade to be sure. Which developer do you work for?”
“I work for myself.”
“Are you a developer?” It’s obvious from his tone, this impresses my dad greatly.
“No, I’m not,” Mason says. My dad frowns.
The server brings the pitcher and refills Mason’s glass. He drinks almost half immediately.
“So, you work for other people then?” Cassandra asks. My dad pours them each a mimosa.
“I work for myself,” Mason repeats.
“I don’t understand,” Cassandra says, then turns to AshLynn. “What is he talking about, AshLynn?”
AshLynn shrugs like this is all new news to her too.
Mason glares at her.
They’re definitely still fighting.
Zach and I both finish our mimosas and he refills our glasses from the pitcher.
“Definitely enjoying this,” he murmurs to me.
“Which part are you having an issue with, Missus Brooks?” Mason asks.
