"So an asshole then."
"Now who's being judgmental? I'm leaving, but think about it. He was extremely nice. If I wasn't spoken for I'd go out with him in a heartbeat."
"Then he must be too old for me."
"He's definitely not too old for you. Besides, you need someone to—"
"To what? Be careful how you answer that question."
"Someone to lean on. A man whose solid and reliable. Please think about it."
"You just made him sound really dull, and he has to be too old if he's driving around in a Bentley."
"I don't know if he has a Bentley, it was just a guess. I think he started in the tech business and his company went public."
"He's not for me. All cocktail parties and suits. No thanks."
"I promise, he's your type."
"You have no idea about my type."
"If you'd tell me about your books maybe I would."
"Nope," Mary said firmly. "Thanks so much for coming, but will you please go now?"
"Absolutely. I need some sleep, and so do you! I'll call you tomorrow and see how you are. If anything happens in the meantime, call me. I mean that."
"I will, I will."
"Bye, I love you, even if you are a pain."
"You too, both of those things."
As her sister picked up her bag and left the kitchen, Mary reached for her tea cup. Though she was feeling tired, she was smiling. She didn't need some Mercedes-driving stuffed-shirt. She'd found herself a Harley-riding dominant.
The answer to her prayers.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mason had stayed at the hospital until his closest friend and mentor was out of surgery. To everyone's great relief, Edward had come through the operation with no complications. Marion's daughters had arrived, and Mason was able to leave, but he'd stopped at his office before heading home. The moment he'd settled behind his desk he'd called Mary, and what a conversation it had been. Once again turning his chair around to stare out at the city, wishing Pete was on his lap, he reran the favorite parts of the call in his head.
He'd already guessed the cause of Mary's relapse had been her visit to the park. It had been cold, very cold, and it was at least a ten minute walk from her house. She'd been caught in the rain on the way home, and now was paying the price, but he'd been curious. Would she tell him? The heroine in The Biker Who Spanked Me would have confessed her foolishness, then derived a unique sense of satisfaction from the ensuing reprimand.
When he'd said—You should be spanked and put back to bed with a stinging backside for being so foolish—much to his delight, Mary had done just that, and her suggestive comment was still swirling in his head.
But there's no-one in my life who would do such a thing.
She'd been virtually begging him to spank her, and he'd responded with the one thing he knew she wanted to hear.
Perhaps there might be.
"Am I becoming her fantasy figure? If I am, is that a good thing or a bad thing? Dammit. Why am I analyzing this so much? I'm going to stop right now. I'm stepping back from all this second-guessing. This thing with Mary will go where it will go."
Glancing at his watch, he was shocked at the time. He needed to make the arrangements to have her dinner delivered. Placing a call to the restaurant manager, he was placing the order when George knocked on his door and poked his head in. Mason gestured for him to enter.
"Add to that a generous helping of Tiramisu, and a couple of slices of the butterscotch cheesecake," Mason finished. "Great, thanks, Vinnie."
"That sounds like the dessert of my dreams," George declared, approaching the desk.
"Which one?"
"Both!"
"They are pretty good. I'm heading home. Is there anything pressing?"
"Just a bunch of rescheduling."
"I think it's safe to make appointments starting on Monday."
"What about the Melville project?"
"I'm not sure what you're asking me."
"Isn't your deadline to counter-offer Monday at noon? Wasn't that the reason Mr. Cochrin was supposed to be here today?"
"Yes, but what's your question?"
"Will you still be going forward?"
"Of course."
"Even with him out of commission? Doesn't he have to sign it? Can you manage without him?"
"If one of us is incapacitated, the other has the authority to execute," Mason replied, then fixing him with a stern gaze, he added, "and I'm going to pretend you didn't ask that last question."
An embarrassed flush crossed George's face.
"Yes, sorry, of course, my apologies," George said hastily. "Do you want me to start putting the paperwork together? I looked in the file, but there are no documents or memos outing the new terms. Where can I find it?"
"You can't. I'm handling that personally."
"Why don't you let me do that for you? It will be one less thing for you to worry about. I'm sure you'd much rather be back at the hospital."
"The counter-offer must be kept completely under wraps. It's the only way to ensure nothing is leaked. I'm heading home. It's been a rough day. No problems with Pete?"
"None. He's a great little dog."
"I'll see you tomorrow, but I'm not sure what time," Mason said, rising to his feet. "I'll be going to the hospital before I come in. Text if you need me."
"Will do. Should I call Herman for you?"
"No need. He's waiting in the garage. Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too."
As Mason left his office and headed to the private elevator, his sharp mind zeroed in on the details of the pending deal.
The building he and Edward wanted to purchase was owned by a real-estate tycoon named Sylvester Melville. It was in a prime location in a fast developing area, but Mason and Edward weren't the only ones interested. There were five major players, though Edward was confident he and Mason had only one real competitor. A developer named Terrence Meeks. Meeks wasn't just ruthless, he was diabolical.
It had been a harrowing day, and as Mason climbed into the town car, he was grateful to be going home. His house was in an exclusive community nestled around a lake, and weather permitting, he was looking forward to taking Pete for a walk. Ambling around the picturesque area soothed his soul, and Pete's exuberance when they were out always made him smile.
"Should I pick you up tomorrow at the usual time?" Herman asked as they rolled on to the busy city street.
"I'm not sure. I'll be going directly to the hospital. I might not leap out of bed as early as I usually do. I'll text you in the morning."
"It's such a relief Mr. Cochrin survived the surgery. Funny thing though."
"What's that?"
"Of all the people in the world to have a heart attack, Mr. Cochrin would be the last on my list. He seemed so fit and healthy."
"I agree."
"Any special plans for the weekend? Will you be needing me?"
Mason smiled. If Mary was up for some company, he'd take Pete for a visit, and if she wasn't, he'd be out on his Harley.
"That remains to be seen, but no, I don't think I'll be needing you."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was early evening when Mason and Pete entered the Cochrin's palatial family home. Mason was welcomed with warm hugs, and Pete was swooped up by Sophie, one of Marion's two daughters. They had looked forlorn when he'd entered, but seeing Pete had brought instant smiles.
"Look how much he's brightened them up," Marion remarked. "He should be a therapy dog."
"He is, he's my therapy dog," Mason exclaimed. "He's way better than any psychiatrist, and a lot cheaper."
Marion laughed, then looped her arm through his elbow and began to move him away from her daughters.
"I need a private word," she said, lowering her voice.
"Sure. What's up?"
"Let's go into Eddie's office."
Walking through the opulent home, Marion led Mason into her husband's study and closed the door. Wood-pane
led with coffered ceilings, evidence of the man's wealth littered the walls and bookshelves.
"You'd better sit down," she said solemnly, gesturing towards the burgundy leather armchairs in front of the fireplace.
"Is there more wrong with Ed than I know?" he asked, suddenly worried.
"This isn't about Eddie's health, it's about the Melville deal."
"The Melville deal?"
"I couldn't tell you this at the hospital. The last thing I wanted was to discuss his business."
"So…?"
"When I first arrived after Eddie's attack, he was able to talk for a short time. He gave me a message for you. He was very upset, but after he'd told me I could see his relief. Being able to tell me helped him a great deal. I could feel it."
"This sounds ominous."
"I think it is. I memorized it word-for-word."
"What did he say?"
"Melville deal. Meeks. Then he took a breath and finished with, George spy."
"George?"
"Do you know who he was talking about?"
"I'm afraid I do," Mason muttered, feeling a sudden chill. "He's the young man who stepped in for Marjorie when she was hurt. He was also the one who found her. He was working as a floating temp and asked if he could take her place until she'd recovered. It seemed ideal."
"Mason, I don't like the sound of this."
"Neither do I. Before I left the office earlier, he was asking me questions about the counter-offer. Edward must have discovered he'd been planted by Meeks."
"A Meek plant. Excuse the bad timing of this humor, but that sounds like a pitiful weed."
"You're right, and it sounds as if that's exactly what George is," he said grimly. "I wonder how Ed found out."
"Hopefully you'll be able to ask him soon."
"Marion, where did this heart attack happen?"
"He was having lunch, and he just keeled over."
"I don't want to alarm you, but I think it's possible Ed's attack may have been caused by something other than a bad heart. I know he gets regular check-ups, and there were no warning signs, at least none I knew about."
"No, Mason, there were none. I've been stewing about that all day. It makes no sense, but who would want to hurt Eddie? Do you think it could be Meeks? Would someone do something so terrible for a property?"
"I'm probably just being paranoid," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket, "but there have been a number of rumors about Meeks over the years, and I'm going to believe the worst until proven otherwise. Would you mind having a couple of security guards here? They wouldn't come inside. I'd have them patrolling the grounds."
"If you think it's necessary, of course I wouldn't mind. It would be a comfort."
"Good. I'll make the arrangements, and I won't leave until they arrive."
"Thank you, Mason. Thank you for stepping in like this."
"Hey, that's what I'm here for. Why don't you join Sophie and Mia before they start wondering where you are?"
"Yes, I should," she said thoughtfully, and rising to her feet, running a nervous hand through her hair, she left the room.
Taking a minute to gather his thoughts, Mason placed the call to his security chief Tom Dennis. Tom, like Marjorie, had been with him since the early days, and Mason trusted him implicitly.
"Hi, Mason."
"Hi, Tom. I need you to contact your detective friend and tell him I think Edward Cochrin's attack may have been an attempt on his life, and place one of your guys outside his hospital suite at Mercy General."
"You really think someone tried to kill him? Are you serious?"
"I know it sounds extreme, but I've always had a bad feeling about Meeks. We both know there was a rumor that he was connected to the mob. I don't want to take any chances."
"I'll get right on it. Holy crap."
"And I want two guys at Edward's house right away. I'm here at the moment. I won't leave until they arrive."
"Sure thing."
"There's something else. I've just learned George isn't in my office by accident. He was put there by Meeks."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing."
"Neither could I. He's been watching me this whole time, and God only knows what else he's been up to. Tap his office line, and obviously you need to sweep my office and the conference room for listening devices. In fact, over the weekend sweep the entire floor."
"And if we find anything?"
"Leave it in place and tell me where it is. Start with my office and the conference room tonight, and call me in the morning."
"Will do. Any chance your cell phone could have been compromised?"
"Good question, but no, it's never out of my sight. I just had a thought. Let's put a spy cam in my office. See if George spends any time poking around. May as well do the same in his workspace as well. Can you get the data off his cell phone?"
"Retrieving it is no problem. It's separating him from it long enough to get it done, but I'll figure it out. Don't worry."
"I need to get back to Marion. Thanks, Tom."
"Sure thing. Bye."
"Bye."
Ending the call, Mason let out a heavy breath. His dearest friend was lying in a hospital bed, and Terrence Meeks had succeeded in planting a spy right under his nose.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
With dinner behind them, Mason, Marion and the girls were ambling into the den for coffee when Mason's phone rang. He'd already fielded a couple of calls during the meal, but when he glanced at the screen and saw it was Mary, it was a smile that crossed his face rather than a frown.
"Excuse me, I need to take this," he said, walking quickly into the privacy of Edward's office. "Hello, Mary. How are you feeling?"
"Giovanni's?"
"That's how you're feeling? Giovanni's?"
"You sent me dinner from Giovanni's! I was blown away. I'm still blown away. My gosh. I've always wanted to eat there. I can't believe they deliver!"
"They don't, I know the owner," he chuckled, wondering how she would feel if she knew he was the owner of the high-end restaurant. "I told him it was an emergency. Was it good?"
"Good? It was fantastic. Everything was incredible."
"You sound so much better."
"I feel much better. How could I not after eating such scrumptious food? I have enough leftover for a couple of days."
"One day. No longer than one day."
"Oh, no, I'm going to make it last."
"You don't have to. I'll send you more."
"Are you crazy? That place is expensive, but tell me, how's your friend doing?"
"He's doing well. His family is much calmer tonight."
"That's great. You must be so relieved."
"I am. There are some other issues I'm dealing with, but I think I have them under control."
"I'm sure you do."
"I need to get back, but I'm really pleased you sound so well. If you're up to it, maybe I could stop by with Pete sometime over the weekend."
"Yes, please. I'd love that."
"I'll check in with you tomorrow and see how you're doing. Make sure you get a good night's sleep, and that's an order."
"Thanks so much, Mason. It was a wonderful dinner."
He paused, trying to decide if he should push the envelope.
"Mason? Are you there?"
"Yes, I'm still here. It was my pleasure, and Mary, consider yourself kissed goodnight. Bye for now."
"Bye."
Her bye had been breathless.
He smiled.
Mary Austen was like sunshine beaming through the ominous clouds looming overhead.
CHAPTER SIX
With the promise of Mason's kiss floating through her mind, Mary had fallen asleep and dreamed glorious dreams. They were walking Pete in the park, speeding through the nearby canyons on his Harley, and lying naked together in her bed. When she finally awoke she half-expected him to be there. Groggily cuddling her extra pillow she imagined it was him.
She could hear the
wind whistling, and as a yawn swept over her, she closed her eyes and smiled contentedly. It was going to happen. They would be together. She was sure of it. It was as if they were meant to be. Deciding to rest for a little while longer before having breakfast, she could feel herself drifting back into a light doze, but her phone chimed. Rolling over she glanced at the screen. It was her sister.
"Morning, Jeanine."
"How are you feeling?"
"I just woke up, but I feel really good. I did last night too. Whatever was wrong with me has passed."
"How was your dinner?"
"Are you sitting down?"
"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Jeanine, it's a great thing! He had dinner delivered from Giovanni's."
"Are you sure it wasn't Gino's Pizza?"
"That's ridiculous. It was Giovanni's. The Giovanni's."
"A home delivery? That doesn't sound right."
"I was surprised too, but my wonderful new man knows the owner. The food was delicious. I have some left over if you want to swing by."
"Maybe I will. You need to ask this guy what he does for a living. That place is crazy expensive, and if he's driving around on a Harley—"
"What?" Mary demanded, cutting her off. "Are you going to jump to the conclusion that he's a drug dealer? Trust me, he's not."
"How can you be sure?"
"I just am. Maybe he's a male model or something. They make a ton of money, and he's good looking enough to be one. Can't you just be happy that I've met someone I really like and he's treating me like a princess?"
"I am, I just worry about you."
"Good grief. Can we please change the subject?"
"No need, I have to dash. I have a feeling I'll be running into that hunky mogul again today. I know you like this biker guy but—"
"But nothing. When are you going to have a little faith in me?"
"I do."
"Then start acting like it. It's been years since mum and dad died, and I know you had to step in for me back then, but I'm not sixteen anymore. I'm living my life. I'm a successful novelist."
"Sorry, you're right, really I know you are. I can't help it."
TYCOON_His Money. His Harley. His Control. Page 4