Page 30 of The Sweet Part
I stifle a groan and shut the door. Then I send up a silent prayer that she won’t call me May Bear in front of Mason. And I thought his family was nosy.
7
When I pull into the parking lot of Exotic and Classic Restorations, two things stand out at once—they’re closed on Saturdays, and both Mason and Mom are already here. She’s early! Has she already talked his ear off about my childhood shenanigans? Shown him baby pictures? Until Sophie was born, Mom kept a picture of me and Alice when we were two as her phone screensaver. We were naked except for diapers, wearing our swimsuits on our heads to be funny. Not so funny once you’re past the diaper stage.
As soon as I park, Sophie rushes out of the car. I grab her hand, lock the door, and hurry over to Mom’s car, hoping she’s still in there. Her familiar blond head comes into view.
“Grandmom!” Sophie yells, breaking free of my hand and running to the driver’s side.
Well, at least there wasn’t any embarrassing talk or picture viewing behind my back. I can still control the situation.
Mom gets out of the car and picks up Sophie, hugging her. Sophie pulls back to look at her. “Today’s going to be awesome!”
Mom smiles and sets her down. “I think so too. Let’s look around while your mom tells Mason we’re here.”
“Okay!”
The two of them wander the lot, where classic cars in need of repair wait. There’s three garage bays at the shop with a car in each. I peek into the bays, but don’t see Mason in there.
I ring the bell on the front door of the showroom, where classic cars gleam with shiny chrome and fresh paint jobs. This must be where they sell the classic cars they find. I can never remember the names of the cars, probably because I’m so distracted by Mason talking about them.
I cup my hands on the glass, looking for my favorite from last season, a convertible done in silver and turquoise. Grandmom Maggie was partial to convertibles too. We have that in common, even though I’m not nearly as adventurous. Sometimes I wish I were. Maybe when Sophie’s in college, I’ll get myself a convertible to ride around in.
Mason’s face appears suddenly close-up on the other side of the glass. I jump back, my heart racing. How did he sneak up on me like that?
He opens the door and steps out with a grin. “Gotcha.”
“Were you crouching down so you could suddenly pop up?”
“I came from the service hallway, saw you peeking, and moved fast to surprise you. No crouching. You were just so focused. Thinking about buying a car?”
“No, thanks. I need practical and reliable like my good old Honda.” I lower my voice as Mom and Sophie approach. “So, uh, my mom wanted to meet you. No big. Probably just curious about a local celebrity. She won’t stay long.”
“I had no idea so many women watched the show,” he says in wonder. “Even had a superfan show up here this morning. I told her only by invitation and sent her on her way.”
“A woman fan showed up here unannounced? Does that happen often?”
“Just with her.”
I stare at him for a moment, concerned. That doesn’t sound right.
Objectively speaking, he’s gorgeous with the kind of muscled body women want to feel pressed against them. Maybe this woman hopes to catch his interest through sheer persistence. I bet she’s beautiful. My jaw clenches. I bet he has legions of beautiful women fans dying to be with him.
I’mnotjealous.
“Hello!” Mom calls as they approach.
Sophie runs to us and beams up at Mason. “It’s just like on TV.”
“Pretty much.” Mason holds his hand out to Mom. “Mason Shaw, nice to meet you.”
“Liz O’Hare. I’m a fan of your show.”
Sophie’s head snaps to Mom’s. “You said you never saw it.”
Mom smiles guiltily. “You, Grandpop, and your mom are fans, so that makes me a fan by association.”
“Oh,” Sophie says.
