“Even so, don’t let her play you, she’s only after your money,” warned his friend.
Mason didn’t think so, he’d been around his share of gold diggers over the years, he could spot one a mile away.
“Are you still going to seduce her?”
“I hope so.”
“And then dump her?”
A pause. That part of the plan was most definitely off.
“Come on, Mason. You’re my wingman. Don’t get involved with a woman; you’ve got years for that.”
He decided to cut the conversation short. “See you later, Rupert.”
“Don’t fall in love with her…” was the last thing he heard Rupert yell as he put the phone down.
Friends since University, together they’d built the business. They became rich and enjoyed the fruits of their labour – more Rupert than Mason. Mason had always been the serious one. Rupert liked using his wealth to charm the ladies and enjoy his life to the maximum. Mason envied him sometimes. Rupert had taken a backseat but for some reason, Mason couldn’t stop working. Although he had more money than he knew what to do with – he always wanted more. But right now, all he wanted to do was take Polly to New York with him.
Chapter 22
Polly
* * *
Back in her office, she couldn’t take the smile off her face. Her and Mason in New York together; she couldn’t help but think if it was purely a business decision or an orchestrated move to spend more time with her. He’d been so off and on with her. One minute giving her all his attention – he certainly couldn’t keep his eyes off her. The next, making excuses as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Maybe in New York, she’d get to the bottom of his behaviour. In the meantime, she called her mum to double-check with her.
Of course her mum was fine with her going – delighted even. Polly knew she felt guilty sometimes as though she was holding Polly back. Her mum told her to grab any opportunity that came along and she’d be fine. But that wasn't true, it was just the two of them and there was no way her mum could ever cope on her own. Polly didn’t mind as her mum was the most important person in her life.
The next couple of days were spent organising someone to cover for her at work plus she spent far too much time organising her suitcase, unsure of what to pack. In the end, it didn't matter much. She never went out that often so didn’t have many going out clothes. So she packed a few work suits and a couple of dresses.
Mason was picking her up from her house. The thought embarrassed her. What must he think of her living in her childhood home on the street she’d been born. It was a nice street but still, it must be a million miles from what Mason was used to.
He came to help her with her suitcase – she liked that he was hands-on, he could have easily let the chauffeur deal with it.
“Is that it?” he asked.
Yes, they were only going away for a week. What did he expect? Just then another car pulled outside the house. A woman in a carer’s uniform got out. She headed for Polly’s house. Mason seemed to know who she was.
“Aah, I forgot to tell you. I hired this lovely woman to be on hand at all times whenever your mum needs.”
Polly grimaced.
“Have I done something wrong?” he asked.
No, no, it was a lovely gesture. He just didn’t know her mum and her insistence on privacy.
“She won’t want a nurse looking after her and the neighbours seeing. It will make her feel like an invalid.”
He put his hand on his shoulder and told her he’d have a word with her mum.
A few minutes later, he came out of the house.
“It’s all sorted. She doesn’t mind.”
She dashed inside to make sure.
“Really, Mum?”
“Yes, Sweetie. Go and have a wonderful time and don’t worry about me.”
Polly kissed her mum on the forehead and said her final goodbyes. After a quick word with the carer, she made her way to Mason’s car.
“What did you say to her?” she asked.
“Nothing much. I apologised for being so presumptuous. But I needed my best employee on the top of her game in New York and you wouldn’t be able to do that if you were constantly worried. And I promised the carer wouldn't wear her uniform again; to the neighbours, it would look like visits from a friend.”
“Did you guilt trip my mother?”
He winced, “just a tiny bit.”
She hit him on his knee. “Well, I’m impressed that you got around my mother so easily. You obviously have a way with the ladies.”
“I hope so,” he winked.
She didn’t mean to say that but her stomach fluttered when he gave her that cheeky wink. She knew then he would probably be having his way with her in New York.
Chapter 23
Mason
* * *
Louisa’s suggestion of getting a nurse was an inspired idea. It made him look good, plus he wanted Polly to relax. The pressure of being the sole carer for her mum must have been tough. He also wanted to make amends for sabotaging her work. From now on, he would do whatever it took to make her life at work run as smoothly as possible. And when he gave her a cheesy wink just then, she melted. Normally so composed, he was finally getting through to her and the thought excited him.
He was worried about seeing her mum again. But this worry went unrealised as she didn’t recognise him. How could she? He was beyond recognition from the last time she saw him. Since the age of fifteen, he’d grown almost a foot taller. The heavy glasses were gone since undergoing laser eye surgery. His teeth perfect – white and straight. His skin, due to the best skin specialist, now completely clear. And the fat that he waddled around in, in his prior depressed state, every inch gone – replaced by long, lean muscles. The only physical similarities that remained of him were the same eye and hair colour. Nothing much to connect him with the old Mason except his first name.
She chatted excitedly in the car and threw some ideas out there.
“Slow down, Polly Taylor. It’s not going to be all business I hope?”
“No?”
“You’ve never been to New York before; I want to show you the sights and take you to some of the best restaurants.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “And what hotel am I staying at?”
“You’ll see. It will be better than a Holiday Inn, I promise.”
He’d taken a risk. He hoped she’d like the place he’d chosen for her.
He loved her enthusiasm for everything from the first class lounge at the airport to their seats on the flight. Lately, the women he’d been with were jaded and fussy. They expected first-class and moaned if something wasn’t quite right.
Polly excitedly adjusted her seat up and down and flicked through the TV channels and the menu, knowing exactly what she wanted to order. She opened the toiletries gift set and opened up her complimentary silk pyjamas.
“We get to keep these?” she asked.
He nodded and smirked at her. She stopped.
“Don’t make fun of me. This is a whole new word for an inbred like me.”
“I wouldn’t dare; I think it’s cute.”
She composed herself and sat back down.
“Actually, I’m rather unimpressed.”
“Really?”
“Yes, you should be flying me out on your private jet, not some commercial airliner.”
“I do apologise your highness. Maybe next time?”
She turned to him; “Really, do you have a private jet?”
“Not anymore, I’m afraid.”
“Oh dear, too expensive to run for the poor American standard billionaire?”
“No, it’s bad for the environment.”
“I agree. I’m impressed again.”
He smirked to himself as he sat and watched her as she flicked through the complimentary toiletries. The champagne arrived and he toasted to a successful business and pleasure trip.
Chapter 24
Po
lly
* * *
Nothing in Polly’s life compared to this. Yes, she wasn’t exactly poor. She could afford anything she wanted back where she lived – a big fish in a small pond. But this lifestyle was beyond her reach – only reserved for the Mason Archers of the world. So she was determined to enjoy it while she could.
Initially, she felt a bit silly, forgetting herself and getting excited by every single thing but Mason didn’t mind and he didn’t make her feel like a hillbilly. When he toasted to their business and pleasure trip, she hoped it would be more pleasure than business.
The flight landed too early as she’d been enjoying the comfort and the close proximity to Mason. They chatted with ease throughout the flight and she was sorry to break the spell.
First off the flight and whisked through immigration, she felt like a movie star. A driver, holding a placard with Mason’s name, greeted them when they reached arrivals. In the car, Mason turned to her, he had something to explain.
Okay, what was it?
“I was thinking of the best place for you to stay.”
“Okay.”
Oh my god, it was going to be some sort of five-star hotel reserved only for the mega-rich. How on earth would she be able to concentrate on work?
“But then I thought, it’s Polly. She’s not bothered about all this luxury and expensive nonsense. She’s a down to earth type of girl.”
Oh no, had he booked her into a hostel?
“So I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could stay at my apartment in Manhattan.”
“Okay?”
“Stop saying okay. Are you cool with that? It might not be as grand as the plaza but it's in a great location and it’s home. I can always book you into a hotel if you feel uncomfortable about it but I have a spare bedroom so strictly no funny business.”
How disappointing.
“Alright then Mason Archer. It’d better not be a hovel. After that flight, I’m now accustomed to complete luxury.”
“Good. The place is fine, it’s home. Nice and cosy.”
They pulled up outside a tall tower on Madison Avenue.
“Wow!” was all she could say. “This definitely does not look cosy. It looks amazing.”
Mason led her in where the doormen greeted him. The staff took their bags to the lift. Even the lift oozed opulence. The top floor was selected – it must be the penthouse. Standing in the lift with Mason and the doorman, she tried not to grin like an excitable child. He’s probably had loads of women up here before. She bet none of them acted like a giddy teenager. The lift opened directly into the apartment. A huge, open-spaced, light airy apartment.
“Very cosy,” she nudged Mason.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s all right, I’ve seen better,” she smirked.
The doorman left them to it.
She twirled around in the room, no longer able to keep up the act.
“It’s amazing. There are no superlatives!”
She dashed over to the floor to ceiling windows. A full view of Manhattan. She could see Central Park.
She sniffed a familiar smell.
“What are you sniffing at?” asked a bemused Mason.
“Chlorine. It smells like a swimming pool.”
He gestured her to a stairwell. It led upstairs to an indoor pool, the walls completely made of glass.
“OMG!” she gasped. “Mason, this is a bit of a shit hole. But I think I can make the most of it.”
He laughed. “I’m so glad you’re willing to lower your standards for me. Come on let’s finish the tour.”
He guided her around the rest of the apartment. The magnificent master bedroom had a walk-in wardrobe; a wardrobe bigger than her bedroom at home.
“Your clothes look sad and lonely in here.”
Even though he had a lot of gear hanging up, it was still half empty.
“Maybe, I’m looking for someone to share it with?”
She gulped. The idea was not unappealing.
He led her to her bedroom. Not as impressive as his but still spectacular; on level with any of the five-star hotels she imagined in her head.
“I suppose I could crash here,” she admitted.
“Very magnanimous of you. Right, I’ll leave you to it. I have a few phone calls to make. Dinner in an hour?”
Sounded good to her. She undressed and took a long shower in her ensuite bathroom. Even the shower gel and shampoo exuded luxury. The large, thick, fluffy, white towel felt soft on her skin. There was even a white robe to change into. She walked around the room, charmed by it all. On one hand, it was a shame to leave – she could stay here all week. On the other hand, a night out in New York City with Mason appealed very much.
She opened her suitcase to decide what to wear and there at the top sat her best underwear. She didn’t remember packing those. Her cheeky mother must have sneaked in and put them there. Was it too late to call and tell her off? Yes, she’d be in bed by now. Should she wear them or save the good underwear for later on in the week? After all, there was no way Mason would get a glimpse of her underwear that night so it would be a shame to waste them. She knew she should put on her more functional pants and bra but she thought to hell with it and put on the good stuff.
What are you doing, Polly Taylor? From the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she checked herself out. She looked good and knew it. She hoped Mason would think so too.
Chapter 25
Mason
* * *
The interruption of the phone calls he had to make were annoying but unavoidable. He’d enjoyed showing off his apartment to Polly, proud of his achievements. And happy to share his good fortune with such a beautiful, appreciative woman.
Looking forward to the evening ahead, he showered, changed and put on a well-fitted smart suit. No tie, just a white shirt buttoned down. Smart but still casual. He thought of Polly getting dressed in the next room. He touched the adjoining wall and imagined her changing so close by. Snap out of it, he told himself. Where this was heading, he had no idea. Had he forgiven Polly already? Should he come clean about who the real Mason Archer was? Maybe that was the best strategy before anything happened between them. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Polly.
“Come in,” he called.
And there she stood, in his bedroom, looking stunning. She had on a simple midi length, strappy navy dress, very elegant but stylish. With her high heels on, she came almost up to his shoulder. He remembered a time when she was taller than him – a lifetime ago. Her long, brown hair set in a nice wave and understated makeup completed the look. Polly Taylor had grown into a beautiful woman.
“Will I do?” she asked.
He’d been too busy staring at her, appreciating her beauty to say anything.
“No,” he said.
She looked a little shocked as she made excuses about her dress and offered to change into something else. He stopped her mid-speech.
“You look almost perfect. There’s just something missing.”
She tilted her head in confusion.
He walked across the room to his drawer and took out a little box.
“Open it,” he said.
Slowly, she walked over and took the delicate present. She carefully unwrapped it to reveal a beautiful sapphire necklace encrusted with diamonds. With a gasp, she put her hand to her chest.
“It’s beautiful. I love blue.”
“I know. Your mum mentioned it.”
With a smile, she handed it back. “I can’t take it; it’s too much.”
“No it’s not. They’re not real diamonds.”
Even she could tell they were real.
“Liar.”
“You have to, they go with your dress.”
“I can’t,” she insisted.
He ignored her, took the necklace and walked behind her. He swept her hair to one side and glided the necklace around her slim, delicate neck. In slow motion, he clasped it on, lingering b
ehind her for a few moments. Breathing in the scent of her hair and the perfume she dabbed by her ear. He stroked a finger down the back of her neck; she stood completely still. He moved his face in closer, about to kiss her neck. Then his phone rang – completely interrupting the moment.
Damn it, he murmured and took the phone call. As he spoke on the phone, he watched her approach the full-length mirror and admire the necklace. With a gentle touch, she stroked the necklace and smiled at her reflection. At that point, he knew she’d keep it. And at that point, he knew he wanted to keep her.
After the phone call, it was time to go to the restaurant. He led her to his cloakroom and put her jacket around her. Arm in arm, they walked to the lift as they looked at each other smiling, all the way down to the ground floor.
Chapter 26
Polly
* * *
She couldn’t help but touch her necklace. It was the nicest present she’d ever received. She shouldn’t take it but she already loved it.
“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered to her in the car.
“I love it, thank you but when did you have time to buy it?”
A pause as he admitted an assistant picked it out while they were on their flight. Slightly disappointed that he didn’t pick it out himself as the choice made her feel like he really knew her. He continued to explain himself.
“I described you to my assistant. A woman of impeccable taste, favourite colour blue. Only something exquisite, understated and beautiful would suit you.”
Maybe he did know her? He placed his hand on her knee as she placed one hand over his. She smirked, thankful she’d opted for the pretty underwear that night.
“What are you looking so smug about?” teased Mason.
She denied looking smug; she didn’t want him knowing it was a done deal. She wanted to be woo-ed.
Mason's Revenge Page 5