Drive Me Wild (Ridden Hard, #4)
Page 13
She had his resume? “Yes... How did you get that?”
“Okay, it was my boss. She got a stack of potentials from a recruiter she works with, and I heard your name, and I told Spencer about you... We’re in town to deal with something for a park he has here. Do you want to have dinner? Catch up. Do kind of an informal interview kind of thing?”
The answer was Yes. Absolutely. Except for the nagging that said Ginny will be pissed. Was he going to throw away a career opportunity for her? He was considering it. “As long as you don’t mind me bringing a date.” That was the perfect solution. He could show Ginny he’d moved on, prove to her that she and Trina could really be friends... It was the perfect solution.
“Of course. Warn them they might get bored with the geek talk.”
“That won’t be an issue.”
“Great.” Trina’s reply was sunshine and sincerity. “We’ll stop by at seven, if that’s okay, and we can decide from there where to go?”
“Looking forward to it.”
And he was. Not because it meant seeing Trina again. That longing was gone. But a job with a company like Spencer’s? Excitement thrummed inside at the possibility.
He wasn’t going to ambush Ginny with his plans, though. He sent her a quick text. Missed you this morning. Hope your day’s going well. Give me a call when you have a few minutes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ginny struggled to focus on work. She shouldn’t have acted the way she did last night. Holding back her thoughts from Mason was childish.
The idea of growing closer to him, of spending more and more time together, of becoming more than friends, and of having her heart broken, terrified her. But she didn’t want to be scare of it.
She wanted to call him now and talk through things, but in her frustration last night, she’d forgotten to charge her phone. In the past she would have charged it in her car. Work was close enough she’d been taking the bus, and no one at the hospital had a spare charger.
Seemed unlikely, but she wasn’t going to call everyone a liar until they fessed up.
When she got home tonight, they’d talk, she’d make things right, and if he wanted to go to Trina’s wedding, Ginny would be his date. Only partly to meet the ex. And just a little bit to be the cute new girlfriend. Even if she wasn’t a girlfriend yet.
Yet. Was she being presumptuous, hopeful, or setting herself up for heartbreak? She hated this kind of indecision. It wasn’t her, and she didn’t know how to get rid of it.
“Ginny, do you have a moment?” Her boss’s question startled her back to the now.
She pushed away the doubt and turned to face Dr. Beckstead. A woman in a skirt and sweater stood next to him. “Of course.” Ginny slid her professional mask into place.
“Will you join us in my office?”
Ginny nodded and followed the pair down the hall. It would be nice if this was good news. Her week didn’t need more of the bad variety.
They stepped into the small room, and Dr. Beckstead closed the door. “Ginny, this is Dr. Walker.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” The Doctor shook Ginny’s hand.
“Same.” The gnawing in Ginny’s gut could be curiosity, or the lingering traces of her worries about Mason. She needed to focus on now, not him.
They all sat.
“Dr. Walker is visiting from Minnesota. She... well, I’ll let her explain,” Dr. Beckstead said.
Dr. Walker turned in her seat to face Ginny. “We have a wing in the hospital dedicated to victims of sexual assault. Dr. Beckstead tells me you’re hoping to move more toward that as a specialty. I’m very picky about who I bring on staff, but after seeing your history, I think you may be a good match.”
“I... Yeah. Absolutely. That’s fantastic. I mean... It sounds like a great opportunity.” Ginny needed to say sign me up or how do I apply officially or something. The words stuck in her throat. This was exactly what she’d been looking for, and she needed to seize it.
“The paycheck is a little better, and we’ll pay for your housing,” Dr. Walker said. “Because of the nature of the position, we need at least a two-year commitment from you, and I need to talk to you first, to ensure you feel like the right fit.”
“When can we talk?” Ginny managed a real question.
“Dr. Beckstead has given me an hour of your time, if you’re available now.”
Ginny nodded.
Dr. Beckstead excused himself, and Dr. Walker began the interview.
An hour later, Julia Walker was shaking her hand again. This time more warmly. “It’s a big decision, especially since you just got here. Take your time to think about it, and get me an answer by Monday.”
“I will. Thank you.” Ginny should just accept now. Why couldn’t she?
She needed to talk to Mason first.
Why? What was she going to do? Surrender a possibly once-in-a-career chance, for a guy she barely knew? Who wasn’t planning on staying with her long term anyway.
There’s more potential between you than that.
Ginny didn’t know that. But it was impossible to ignore the part of herself that wanted it to be true.
Maybe he’ll go with you. There are IT jobs in any state.
He wasn’t just IT, like her, he wanted to specialize in something specific in his field.
I have to at least try.
When she got home, they’d talk. About so much. Her being a brat last night. This opportunity. If they wanted to try for more...
The decision helped soothe Ginny’s racing thoughts.
By the time she got home, she was practically skipping, despite her sore feet. She walked in the front door, and paused at the sight of extra people sitting in the living room. “Uh... hello?”
Her brain caught up with her eyes. She knew these people. They were dressed casually, instead of in their wedding best, but it was Trina and Spencer.
Ginny’s gut twisted in on itself.
Mason was by her side in an instant. “Hey. You never called me back.”
“My phone is dead.” She couldn’t drag her gaze from Trina. The ex. The woman Mason didn’t love any more.
Not the competition. Don’t think that.
Too late.
“Ah. I didn’t want to ambush you with this. Ginny, this is Trina and Spencer. They want to take us out for a half-business, half-friendly dinner.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Ginny forced her sugary-sweet smile into place. The one she wore in the club when she was tired and just wanted to go home, but needed the patrons to believe she liked them.
“If tonight’s not good, we can reschedule.” Spencer was handsome, in that blond, surfer kind of way. A hint of tattoo curled above his shirt collar. He didn’t look like a billionaire. At least something about the situation wasn’t as intimidating as Ginny expected.
Trina nodded. “We’re in town until tomorrow night. We could do lunch tomorrow.” Everything about her screamed sweet, innocent girl-next-door.
Unlike Ginny, who was faking it.
Ginny’s expression never wavered. “Tonight’s great. As long as we’ve got a little time for me to change into something more comfortable.”
“Of course,” Spencer said.
Ginny was going to do this, because it would be rude not to. And because she needed to see what drew Mason to Trina. And also, maybe a little, to prove to herself that he was over her.
And if he wasn’t... She was taking the job in Minnesota anyway. She could get out before leaving hurt too much.
GINNY HATED THAT SHE was enjoying Spencer and Trina’s company. And she hated herself for giving them so much space in her mind.
They were on dessert, and she found herself smiling and laughing genuinely more often than for show.
She’d resorted to a game she used to play with herself in the club. Let’s psychoanalyze the person across from me with as little information as possible.
That didn’t offer any more reason to dislike them than the conversation.
I wasn't talking to her, I was talking to you. The not role-play taunted Ginny.
Spencer was confident and aggressive—not the same way Wyatt was. Almost the way Ginny expected Mason would be he got more comfortable with it. The similarities didn’t end there, or even with the tattoos the two had.
Spencer probably struggled with his weight at one time. He didn’t come from money. And if that was the direction Mason was heading, toward that kind of middle-of-the-road, he was going to want himself a girl a lot like Trina.
Ginny realized Trina was watching here expectantly. “I’m sorry, what?” Ginny asked.
“Are you liking work? It’s got to be so stressful, dealing with people who have that kind of mental anguish.”
If she’d said people who are nutso Ginny might have a reason to be irritated. But no, she had to be polite about her phrasing. “It takes some getting used to. Fortunately I had a little practice with my last job.”
“Yeah? What did you do?” Trina looked genuinely interested. Like she had all night.
“I was a stripper. In fact, that’s where we met.” She nodded at Mason. Was she being a brat? Going for the shock value? Maybe a little.
Trina’s eyes grew wide, but her smile never wavered. “That would be amazing. Was it fun? It sounds so hot. I mean, probably not with the grabby hands, but still... I’d be way too shy for that.”
Spencer nudged Trina gently with his shoulder. “I bet if you asked nicely, she’d teach you a couple of things.”
“Would you?” Trina actually had the nerve to sound excited. “That would be incredible. And so much fun.”
“It’s not exactly the kind of skill that goes over well at family parties.” Ginny tried to keep her voice light.
Trina rolled her eyes. “A skirt that ends above my knees doesn’t go over well at family parties. It’s not for them, it’s for him and me.” She squeezed Spencer’s hand.
They were so sugary and natural together, Ginny couldn’t even bring herself to wish the honeymoon would end quickly.
“Sure. I could show you a few things sometime. Ginny kept the offer vague, and left off the If I’m in the state long enough for us to ever meet again.
Which made her feel worse, because Trina hadn’t done anything to her, and fuck Mason for being right about them getting along.
They finished dinner, and Spencer paid, insisting it was a business expense. They headed out to his car.
The bastard didn’t even have the ego to be driving something expensive and high end. He had the Honda Element he’d restored in college.
“Keep me company.” Trina tugged Ginny toward the back seat.
“So the men can chit chat?” The sarcastic retort slipped out without Ginny’s permission. That was only one for the night. Not bad in the grand scheme of her volatile mood.
Trina raise an eyebrow. “Their legs are longer. But also, yes. So they can wrap up the job conversation.”
“Job... What?” Ginny’s after dinner coffee curdled in her gut. She slid onto the bench in the second row
Trina’s glee was back. “He didn’t get a chance to tell you. Can I tell her?” She took the spot next to Ginny.
Mason glanced back from the front passenger seat. “Someone should.” Unlike their hosts, his expression was unreadable.
That hurt Ginny more than any of this.
“So, Spencer is looking for a corporate trainer. And since Mason is in the market for a job...” Trina said.
Holy shit. The night had been an interview. For Mason’s dream job. And Ginny was sulking about ex-girlfriends. That’s fantastic. Those were the words she should say. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Mason’s masked slipped, and she caught the hurt splashed across his face before he turned forward in his seat.
Fuck her brain.
Spencer met her gaze in the rear-view mirror as he started the car. “I don’t see an issue. Trina knows her shit, and if she tells me Mason does too, I believe her. I haven’t seen any evidence to the contrary tonight.”
Right. Because no one except Ginny was hung up on the fact Spencer was Mason’s ex’s soon-to-be-husband.
This was the next step in his career. She wouldn’t sabotage that. Especially since she was about to head into her own dream job. They’d both have what they wanted. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. That’s fantastic news.”
Mason remained facing forward.
“Since we’re on the subject, the job is yours if you want it,” Spencer said.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... give me the weekend to think about it?”
Spencer chuckled. “We’ll be in Europe for the next two weeks on our honeymoon. You have until then to get me an answer.”
“Thanks. I’m probably going to say yes, but no reason to look too needy.”
What was he doing? He couldn’t throw this away. He needed to take the job. Ginny had to ensure this wasn’t because of her. She wasn’t going to cost both of them their careers because she was being jealous and insecure.
And the churning in her stomach that grew stronger with each passing moment was linked to that. It had nothing to do with the whisper in the back of her head. You’ll miss him when he’s gone. And by then, it may be too late.
Fuck her brain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Mason should have accepted Spencer’s offer on the spot. Especially after Ginny’s Are you sure that’s a good idea?
Seriously, what the fuck?
He and Ginny walked back into her apartment, and he couldn’t begin to vocalize his irritation. She was phony at dinner, with the same attitude she showed Giovanni. The one she reserved for people whose opinions didn’t matter.
This was some serious bullshit. He didn’t know this Ginny, and if she was going to treat him the way so many other people did, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, the instant the door swung shut behind her.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She paced into the kitchen, never looking at him. “Being ambushed to have dinner with your ex, who you’re supposed to be over, after finding out you still plan on going to her wedding—”
“You could have said something.” He wasn’t doing this. “At any point. Last night, reminded me I was being inconsiderate—”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you.”
He clenched his jaw. “I’m not fucking perfect. No one is. Everybody makes mistakes, and you seem to want a lot more leeway for yours than you’re willing to give me for mine.” He wouldn’t raise his voice. This discussion could stay reasonable.
She pursed her lips.
Wonderful. Not replying was even better than lying. Not. “Is this where you say If you cared, you’d know? Did you think to ask me tonight why they were here? Did you just assume I did it because I’m insensitive? I tried to call you to tell you. You had as much of a chance as me to pull me aside, and say not tonight.”
“But it was for a job.”
And now she was flipping her approach. He didn’t like that. It felt like misdirection and manipulation. “You didn’t know that. Because you made it to the end of the night before it occurred to you this wasn’t just some torture-test for Ginny.” That was probably going too far.
“And you could have said something. Anything. Hey, Spencer is here to interview me over dinner.”
Yeah, he could have. “You could have too.” He needed to calm down. They were compounding the argument by being stubborn. “I don’t want this to turn into a screaming match. Either one of us could have spoken up, and we didn’t, and now’s our chance.”
She finally turned toward him, but her gaze was cast at her feet. “It doesn’t anyway.” Her tone was soft.
&nbs
p; “Of course it matters. Why wouldn’t it matter?”
“We’re not a couple. I don’t have a right to be jealous of who you talk to. Even if we were, that wouldn’t be fair of me.” She picked at her fingernails. “We’re barely friends. You don’t owe me anything, and I was being unreasonable.”
That was the most infuriating thing she’d said all night. Frustration seared hot and potent in his veins, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to temper it. “What if I want to be more? What if I see potential between us?”
“I don’t owe you anything either.”
His mental scream drowned out any other thoughts in his skull. He breathed deep to keep it from getting out. “No, you don’t. I’ll let you get to bed.” He walked into his room and closed the door softly behind him.
What the fuck just happened? Was he really that dim? That bad at reading people?
No. She still wasn’t telling him everything. And he was an idiot for believing friendship meant she’d be honest with him.
GINNY STARED AT MASON’S closed bedroom door. That wasn’t how any of that should have gone. What was wrong with her? A guy treated her well, and she suddenly forgot who she was?
She’d been bratty, catty, and probably a billion other -tys in the last twenty-four hours, because someone treated her like a human being and she let herself get attached.
You’re still doing it. You’re still lying to yourself.
No. She was being a rational human being.
She knocked on Mason’s door.
Nothing.
Seconds ticked away. Should she try again or let him have the night to himself?
“It’s open,” he called.
She stepped inside, but not further. “I’m sorry.”
“Cool.”
She deserved that. “I was wrong to act the way I did. I should have phrased things differently.”
“In other words, you meant it, but you also meant to put a prettier bow on it?”
“Not all of it. I was wrong last night. And at dinner tonight. The way I treated you and your friends. I’m ecstatic about your job offer. It could be your dream come true, and you need to pursue it for all you’re worth.” She poured the sincerity into her words. She meant every single one, and hoped he could tell.