Page 45 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
“You should really call her Cassandra,” AshLynn pipes in.
“Yes,” Cassandra says. “We are all on a first-name basis here. After all we’re soon to be family.”
“I’m not sure—” Mason starts.
AshLynn interrupts. “Maybe he should call you Mom and Dad?”
“Excuse me,” Mason says. They ignore him.
“I think I’d like that,” Cassandra says.
“Construction, huh?” My dad thinks aloud, running his thumb and forefinger along his jaw.
“How soon will you move to Southlake?” Cassandra asks Mason.
“Can we go back to this whole mom—” Mason starts.
“I’ve got an idea!” my father announces, then pauses to make sure he has everyone’s attention. “Mason, since you’re in construction, I’m going to hire you to help Willow renovate her house. You’ve seen it, the house has great bones, and obviously in a fabulous location. Am I right?” He gestures in what I think might be the direction of my house—as though he’s presenting the idea of renovating it to Mason as a gift—satisfied smile on his face.
“Jonathan, why do you think you need to give me a job?” Mason asks.
“Dad, I don’t need you to hire someone for me,” I say. “In fact, I don’t want you to.” He doesn’t get it. He never gets it though, not really. I have to do this on my own. It is my idea, my money, and I need it to be my effort. To prove to myself that I can do it.
“Yes, Willow, I know you can afford it on your own. You have more money than you could ever hope to spend. But let me do this for you. And for AshLynn. How often can a man say that giving another man a job will benefit both his girls? Huh?”
“Actually,” I explain. “I was going to say that I really wanted to do this on my own. It’s not about money. It’s about the work. Working with my hands. Seeing the results of my labor. That is important to me.”
“Is anyone going to acknowledge that I don’t want or need the job?” Mason asks.
“Why wouldn’t you want that job?” AshLynn asks him. “You get an office and a secretary. It’s a great opportunity.” He looks at her, his neck straining forward and his eyes bulging with brow furrowed.
My dad turns to me. “Willow, honey, there will be lots of things in life that are important to you. Something else will come along. And, surely, there will be things that you just aren’t equipped to do on your own. Things you can’t find on YouTube or in a book. Like electrical work, for instance. You will have to hire a professional for that.”
“Yes,” I say. “But Mason isn’t a certified electrician.”
“I’m sure you have experience in electrical work, don’t you Mason?” Dad turns to him, brows raised.
Mason squints his eyes at us. “What? I have experience in what?”
My dad waves his hand in the air dismissively. “If he works for himself in construction, he’s bound to have worked every aspect of a home. That includes electrical work.”
“Mason is great with his hands,” AshLynn says. “Look at his hands, Mommy.”
“I’m not an electrician,” Mason says.
“They look very rough and weathered,” Cassandra adds.
“So, maybe you’ll have to call someone out to check your work, but isn’t that what the inspectors do anyway?” Dad turns to Cassandra. “Don’t be crass about his hands.” Then takes a sip of his mimosa. “Ugh. I hate the cheap champagne they use in these. Who ordered this anyway?”
“I did, Mister Brooks,” Zach raises his hand.
“Well, that was a nice gesture, Zachary,” my dad says.
Mason buries his head in his “rough and weathered” hands and groans. “Are we finally talking about the wedding?” Cassandra asks. “Oh good. I’m thinking semi-formal. AshLynn, what do you think?”
“I love that idea,” AshLynn says.
“No,” my dad says. “We are talking about my hiring Mason to help Willow. If he stayed with her, then I wouldn’t worry so much about her being alone on this island.”
