by Willa Thorne
“Don’t be sorry. I was bound to mention it at some point. I think he’s hot as hell, but he’s like the tempting fruit. Once I have a taste- I just can’t. Too many people have burnt me in my life, and I’m doing really good now, J. I can’t let that get ruined.” She took in a deep breath, calming herself, and then she looked at me. “Look, let’s focus on your story. I don’t need to end up with Jackson in order for you to have your happily ever after. Life doesn’t work like that. I’m happy with my grades in school, my blog is taking off, and I’ve made a lot of progress with some of the kids at the youth center. It’s all good, okay?”
I smiled and nodded in agreement. Elyse was right; she didn’t need any distractions or another broken heart. I didn’t know Jackson well enough to testify against the things she mentioned.
We immediately found an ice cream cart and distracted ourselves with double scoops and the remainder of the afternoon was spent in the park, laughing at our inside jokes. She didn’t ask me for anymore details about the night before, and I didn’t mention Jackson again after that.
7. Mason Woodward
Two weeks progressed. Jillian and I had comfortably returned to a new routine in Manhattan. She told me she wanted to start volunteering at the animal shelter and community center again, as she had when she was in high school. I was more than supportive of those ventures, even though I didn’t like the idea of her going into those neighborhoods.
My days in the Financial District were brimming with meetings, conference calls, investors and lawyers as I still attempted to smooth company transitions from my place in Manhattan. It felt like a longshot, but I wanted everything to be smoothed over in time for our wedding day, which we had settled for the middle of April.
It was a Saturday night when Jillian and I met with Piper and Jackson at O’Rourke’s Sports Pub.
I observed how Jackson impatiently drummed his long fingers on the thick glass of his drink. He glanced around keenly.
“Hey, I’m Anya.” Our waitress approached the booth. I recognized her as the same waitress we had the last time. Her thick, wavy chestnut hair was pulled into a high ponytail. The only reason I remembered this waitress was because she seemed so out of place the last time I saw her, and this evening was no different. The other waitresses sported an emerald green polo and black slacks or skirts.
This girl wore a yellow t-shirt and black slacks. Leather and silver braided bangles decorated both arms up to her elbows. She piqued a manicured eyebrow as her intense light green eyes fixated on me. She gave me a snarky grin as she tapped her pen against her lips.
“What will you have, mister?”
We ordered drinks and appetizers and I wrapped my arm around Jillian’s shoulder as we sat in the booth. It was cozy in the booth. Her body radiated heat, and I pulled her closely against my body so it would be easier to whisper sinful thoughts into her ear.
Suddenly Ian showed up.
Fucking hell.
He towered over the waitress and admired the view as he waited for her to move so he could slide into the booth. The waitress ignored him as she jotted down our orders.
“Hey dollface.” Ian grinned as he stood behind the girl. She glanced up momentarily, but didn’t act phased by him.
She stepped aside as she made a quick note on her pad, and he slid into the booth.
“Do you need me to come back in a few minutes?” She asked Ian once he sat down beside Jackson.
“What do you suggest, sweetpea?” He asked her with a suggestive tone.
I rolled my eyes and Jackson visibly kicked him under the table.
“I suggest you open that menu in front of you and have a look. I’ll be back.” She gave him a sweet smile and then left the booth.
Jackson laughed, and Ian’s eyes glittered darkly. After a few minutes, he stood and left the booth. He was absent from our table for quite some time.
“Is Elyse joining us tonight?” Jackson asked.
“No, she has to work,” Jillian answered with a frown.
Jackson raised an eyebrow at Jillian. “Doesn’t that coffee shop close at nine?”
“Yeah…” Jillian answered hesitantly.
“I’ll go pick her up and she won’t have to take the bus.” Jackson offered.
Jillian retrieved her mobile and sent her friend a text message. A few minutes later, a chime signaled a response from Elyse.
Jillian looked at Jackson with an uncomfortable frown. “She says she has a study session after work.”
Jackson’s jaw was set grimly. “Alright. Fine.”
I watched my fiance chew on her lower lip with a frown as she stared at the screen of her mobile. I involuntarily caught a glimpse of the text from Elyse on Jillian’s screen.
Elyse: I can’t see him. Tell him I have a study session.
Interesting.
My own mobile vibrated in my pocket and I retrieved it. Ian’s name lit up the screen.
I really hadn’t spoken with the bloke since I handled personal matters in my office many weeks ago, before my father died.
What the fuck does he want?
I read the message. It was brief and vague.
Ian: Chat soon.
I texted a response.
Mason: About?
Ian: I have information.
Mason: 9 am tomorrow. My office.
Ian: Friday 2 pm.
Mason: Agreed.
There was no other response from Ian, but I was focused on what sort of information he had, and about what? I was intrigued and also concerned… did this have to do with my father’s passing? My mind was reeling, thinking of possible scenarios he could want to discuss. I was at a loss. The man was frustratingly mysterious and aloof most of the time.
Within five minutes, our waitress arrived at the table with our orders. Ian was right behind her. He was in the process of pocketing his mobile as he followed closely behind the waitress, who didn’t even seem bothered by his close proximity.
“I’m sorry it took so long. The kitchen is packed this evening.” She apologized as she placed the orders on the table. Ian slid into the seat with a satisfied grin on his face. His hands were splayed on the table as he adjusted himself in the booth.
The waitress firmly set the thick stein of Guinness down on Ian’s hand.
“Fucking hell!” He roared as the ale sploshed on his fingers.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Your hand was in the way and I didn’t see it.” The lass held the faintest trace of a smirk on her lips, and her cheeks were only slightly flushed. She spoke the apology, but the words were clearly not genuine. She didn’t appear remotely embarrassed by her “mistake.”
The rest of us were amused, especially Jackson, but Ian was not. We all knew that was not an accident. I’d have to remember to leave that girl a generous tip for her cheeky efforts.
Still, despite the amusing display, I couldn’t take my mind off the text message from Ian. He knew something I didn’t, and that drove my thoughts insane. I was ready for Friday’s meeting, as long as the bastard didn’t show up late this time…
“Are you alright?” Jillian asked me, leaning over and whispering softly.
“I’m fine, darling, just exhausted from a hectic day.” I placed the mask on my face and smiled down at my love. I wasn’t ready to tell her everything just yet...
8. Jillian Pryor
Seven years earlier…
I was slightly horrified when Travis called me to tell me that he could not pick me up from my volunteer shift at the animal shelter just two blocks from our Brooklyn apartment. I was seventeen, and I was becoming painfully aware that I had a massive crush on Mason Woodward.
“I have to stay late at the office,” Travis informed me as I scooped kibble into tin bowls inside the kennels.
“Oh.” I bit my lower lip, as I tried to think of a second option. Even though our apartment was only two blocks around the corner, Travis prohibited me from walking home. Our neighborhood was not the worst, but it wasn’t the saf
est either.
“I can try to get a ride home from one of the volunteers, or I can ask Vivian.” I offered.
“No it’s cool, Jill. Mason already said he’ll pick you up.”
“WHAT?!” I screeched, and the pitch was enough to alert some of the dogs in neighboring kennels. Most of them immediately began barking in response.
I stepped away from the kennels so I could hear what my brother had to say. He has to be kidding. Please tell me this is a prank.
My heart did double leaps within my chest as the horror filled my being. I thought about my appearance. My hair was pulled up into a loose, messy bun. I wore an oversized light blue shirt with the lettering PAW CONNECTION on the front. It was a rumpled mess, and I was absolutely positive that I smelled like kennel. At the very least, I smelled like wet dog. I had given three baths earlier that afternoon.
Oh God. Oh God. My stomach churned.
“Travis, it’s okay! Vivian is going to give me a ride home. She said she can give me a lift anytime I need one.” I spoke hurriedly.
Please, please don’t do this to me.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jill. He’s probably already there. You’re done in ten minutes, right?”
Usually, I was excited to see Mason. At the moment, my stomach felt sour as I thought about him witnessing my sweaty mess. I pressed my forehead against the wall, with the phone pressed to my ear.
“Yeah…” I answered, feeling completely defeated.
“I have to go. The sooner I finish these files, the sooner we can have dinner. I’ll bring home a pizza.”
Travis ended the call, leaving me to my doom. I hurriedly finished feeding the dogs, and made sure they each had bowls of fresh water within their kennels. At this time of day, I only needed to feed them, and I was nearly finished when Travis called me. Vivian, the owner of the shelter, wouldn’t be leaving the building anytime soon so I didn’t need to worry about anything else.
I had three minutes to spare, so I slipped into the cramped bathroom and glanced at my reflection in the mirror.
Oh God.
I was a disaster and the horror washed over me in fresh waves. In a frenzy, I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wiped my face. I pulled my hair out of the messy, frizzy bun and it fell around my shoulders like a lion’s mane. The glasses on my face did nothing to boost my confidence in my appearance. Hurriedly, I pulled my messy hair into a ponytail. I knew Mason was already parked in the front of the building, waiting for me.
My heart thundered in my chest; I was already embarrassed. I envisioned him driving his latest, brand new flashy car. He liked driving much more back then. He seemed to have a new, different car every time I saw him. He was probably still in an expensive suit and tie, having just finished at the office. I suddenly became worried that I would scuff up the interior of his perfect car.
“Hello Jilly Bean,” he grinned. He had been parked with the window rolled down. With a flush to my cheeks, I approached his spotless white Mercedes Benz Luxury Sedan, in the latest model. People on the streets stopped to gawk at his car as though they’d seen an alien from another planet.
Tentatively, I opened the passenger side door and slid into the comfortable seat. I felt like I was soiling his immaculate car just by sitting in it.
“Hey, thanks for giving me a ride,” I mumbled with such shyness in my voice. I wasn’t usually like this around Mason, but I was still in a state of dread and humiliation. The interior of the car was smooth, beige leather. I felt like the blood had drained from my face, while my cheeks were also flaming hot at the same time.
“There’s some roadwork at the next corner, so we need to take a detour,” Mason commented nonchalantly. His perfect British accent floated around me.
“Okay.”
Great. The detour will just give him more time to notice that I smell like wet dog. I sighed inwardly. He has a girlfriend, I reminded myself that he was out of reach no matter what I looked like.
“Where is Ella?” I asked about his girlfriend and the question came out in a blurt.
“She’s hosting a soiree,” he answered. “A bunch of frilly bollocks, if you ask me.”
“Oh.” What the hell is a soiree?
“Are you alright?” He asked. His brow furrowed slightly with concern even though he never took his eyes off the road.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired. We had a really busy afternoon.”
He turned a corner as he drove towards my family’s apartment. His lips curled into a grin.
“Have you considered going to school for Veterinary Medicine after you graduate?”
“Um. I did, but I really just want to keep this as a hobby,” I answered. The truth was that I did consider Veterinary Medicine, but I was scared away from the idea when one of the volunteers mentioned that I would have to euthanize sick animals. I was so sensitive back then.
“What inspired you to help at the shelter then?” Mason asked. He glanced in his rearview mirror momentarily and then turned another corner. I always enjoyed when he asked questions about my hobbies. I immediately perked up and the answers flowed from my mouth before I could remember my filter.
“I really love animals. My mom’s friend used to help at the shelter and I started helping her when I was fourteen. She helped Vivian- Vivian is the owner, and I helped Shelby- my mom’s friend, but then she moved to North Carolina with her kids when her husband got stationed there. He’s in the military…” Once I started talking, I wouldn’t shut up, and I spoke very quickly. I watched as Mason quirked an eyebrow quietly and winced. He was trying to keep up with my passionate rambling.
I realized how ridiculous I sounded, and silenced myself.
“Anyway, I just really like to help animals. I don’t fit in with the people at my school, and dogs don’t judge me.” I bit my lower lip, admonishing myself inwardly.
“Right,” Mason answered simply, and then he grinned once he parked the car at the curb just outside my family’s apartment. He didn’t seem annoyed or repulsed. In fact, he appeared amused.
“I’ll tell you what,” he turned toward me.
Huh? I was distracted by the perfection of his face.
He continued speaking, even though I made no verbal response.
“Travis mentioned you’ve always wanted a puppy but never got one. So, why don’t we fix that?”
I stared at him blankly. Am I missing something?
I inclined my head as I looked up at him. “Perhaps I’ll pull some strings and get you a puppy.”
“Really?” I blurted. Actually, it was a squeak. I felt my whole face light up. “But what about Travis? He said no!”
Mason only smirked. “I have my resources.”
I had forgotten how disgusted I was by my own appearance. I couldn't stop smiling. “Do you really promise?” I sounded like a giddy twelve-year-old.
“I promise.” He winked, and I nearly melted. “Now, let me walk you to your door so I can rest, assured you made it into your apartment safely.”
****
Present Day…
A cool October wind whipped my wild hair into my face as I walked a short distance down the smooth pavement toward The Paw Connection in downtown Brooklyn. I smiled to myself as I remembered the first time Mason picked me up from this location. The tiny apartment I grew up in was only two blocks away from the small brick building that housed the animal shelter. During High School, I volunteered at Paw Connection every Thursday, and I was at every adoption event, as long as it didn’t interfere with my activities with the 4-H Club. I laughed quietly to myself as I reflected on how horrified I had been by my appearance that day when Mason picked me up from my volunteering shift. I was so young back then, and so naive. Little did I know that I would someday become engaged to him. I still remembered the promise he made that day. I considered the promise void, though. Mason had made it clear he had no interest in getting a dog.
I started volunteering at Paw Connection when I returned to Manhattan, and I must say,
it felt very good to be back. I opened the small metal door and breezed into the small brick building. In the short time I had rejoined Paw Connection as a volunteer, I had bonded with a certain mutt. I was there when she was brought in as a stray. She was a scruffy mutt, about thirty pounds, and extremely thin. She trembled like a leaf as they brought her into the back room for an exam. She tried to hide in the corner of her kennel, but I was determined to earn her trust and we developed a special connection. I started spending more time at the shelter lately, mainly so I could see her. Against Mason’s advisement, I named her Gemma. I knew I shouldn’t have named her, but the name just slipped out one day during feeding time.
“Hi Jake!” I chimed as I rounded the front desk toward the side door that led to the back kennels.
The freckled kid behind the desk gave an awkward wave as I kept moving. I was anxious to visit with Gemma. I was told she had found a new owner, pending approval of the individual’s application. It was bittersweet. Of course I was happy that someone wanted to adopt her, but I was going to miss her.
“You’re only making things worse for yourself,” Mason had warned me earlier in the day during my lunch break at work. “Why do you seek to torment yourself with something you can’t have?”
“I just want to say goodbye to her. We have a special bond.” I answered as I sipped my coffee. Then I couldn’t help but tease. “Maybe if you held to your promise and said we could get a d-”
“Very funny, Ms. Pryor. I made that promise when I was young and foolish. I don’t care for the drool or the yapping. I quite like our quiet life, don’t you?”
“Please. Our life is anything but quiet. I think we put a crack in the wall the other night.” I bit my lower lip to fight a grin.
“Touche, darling.” I could almost hear Mason’s smirk through the phone.
I rounded another corner and waved to Vivian, the owner and founder of Paw Connection. She was on her phone, inside her cramped office in the far corner. She passed me a tight lipped smile before she closed her office door. She was having a tense conversation with someone, which was very unlike her.