Page 27 of Hard To Love

and walked off the dance floor. My face burned and my eyes filled with tears. I was damn sure I never gave anyone the perception that I was easy. When I got to the bar, I waved at George, who nodded and started to make me a drink. I grabbed my credit card from my wallet, knowing the next morning I would be regretting it. I looked up at him again and gestured for him to make two. George smiled and nodded.

Then I felt arms slither around my waist. I shoved whoever it

was off me. When I turned around, Mason was standing there. I rolled my eyes, disappointed. He leaned in close enough, making sure that I heard him.

“Did you enjoy my brother?” he growled, his top lip twitching. “ Are you and your brother always this obnoxious?” I scoffed and turned away.

“We’re half-brothers,” He made sure to state, “having us both probably wouldn’t be that gross.” He chuckled, twirling my hair around his finger.

“Fuck you!” I slapped his hand away and shoved him back. The crowd gasped, parted and turned to stare. I avoided the glares as best as I could.

“Problem?” a bouncer asked as he walked over, grabbing my arm.

“Nope,” Mason mumbled, staring at me.

“Are you sure, Mr. Foster?” he asked, still holding me.

“I was just leaving.” I yanked my arm free.

As I walked past Mason, I saw Cassie and Nick standing there watching. I had never been more embarrassed in my life. I don’t know why I let Mason get to me this way. I couldn’t control how I felt, but why I felt anything for that jerk was beyond me.

When I got outside I waved a cab over from the other side of the street, waiting for traffic to slow down before I crossed.

“Lauren.” The voice came from behind. I turned to see who it was. When I saw Mason standing there, I darted out onto the street, just to avoid him, not noticing that a car was coming. Mason grabbed me in time. “What were you thinking?” he gasped, holding me tight against him. “Where are you going in such a hurry Lauren?”

“Home—” I shoved him away. “— God.” My hands instantly covered my face.

Mason whistled, waving his hand above his head. Moments later a cab pulled up in front of us. Before he reached for the door to open it for me, he grabbed my arm and pulled me in close, his arms wrapped around me. I was unable to look up at him, and I kept my arms tight against my sides. Then he surprised me as he wiped the tears from my cheeks, his smile strained.

He kissed my cheek gently, whispering, “I don’t mean to be a jerk, but I do have a reputation to uphold.” I don’t know what I expected from him. Suddenly the urge to lash out at him rose within me. Exhaustion controlled me though, and my emotions were running on overdrive.

“Screw you and your reputation,” I blurted, then opened the door and got in. If this was how dating was these days, then I pass on the whole dating scene.

Before I got the door shut, I heard him say, “Good night, Lauren.” Then he reached in the front window, handing the cab driver money.

As I crawled into bed later that night, I made a vow to avoid seeing any of them for a while. No clubbing or country club, nothing, not for a while. I was mortified because of my actions tonight, and I really didn’t want to deal with two troublesome brothers in a tangled web of feelings. I had more respect for myself than that. I didn’t want anyone I loved feeling humiliated around me or them.

CHAPTER SIX

The week of the masquerade was also the week I started working at the restaurant. The first few days, Mrs. Peterson had scheduled her manager to train me. Then after that I shadowed random staff members for a shift, even though I felt I would have been fine on my own. Then on Thursday, she allowed me to start taking my own tables. The hostess was given instructions to not give me more than four tables at a time. I didn’t protest because I was grateful, come seven o’clock that evening, when the Harpers and the Fosters walked in. The host recognized them right away, seating them within minutes of entering the door, angering the few guests that were still waiting for a table. I swiftly hid by the kitchen door. All week Cassie had called and I had avoided answering.

“Are you all right , Lauren?” Mrs. Peterson asked as she came out from the kitchen.

“Huh? Yes, yes, I’m fine,” I stuttered and walked back over to my section, thankfully on the other side of the restaurant.

While working, I concentrated on my four tables to avoid going over to the section where Cassie and her family were seated.

“Lauren,” someone called. My heart sank and I slowly turned around. Mrs. Peterson was standing there with her arms folded across her chest. I quickly glanced over at the other side of the restaurant. It didn’t appear that anyone had heard her call me.

“I understand that you are just starting again, but some of the other wait staff, mentioned that you are avoiding running food out to their tables.” She replied, her expression neutral.

“Oh—have I?” I gulped. “I just thought you wanted me to concentrate on my side.”

“No,” she said, and her body relaxed. “Now go help bring the food out to that party,” she said and walked back into the kitchen.

I paced a few times, and then went in the same door she had gone through to get to the kitchen. The chef turned, looking right at me.

“You.” He snapped his fingers. I grumbled to myself as I walked toward him. “New girl, take this to table thirtyfive,” he said, handing me a tray with five plates on it. I hesitated a little longer than he tolerated. “Hello.” He snapped at me.

---