Meeting Madison Page 5

  I swallow, shaking my head as if I can banish the insidious thoughts through physical motion. Or maybe I’m just denying the truth I know in my bones.

  Mason’s price isn’t one I can afford to pay.

  I briefly contemplate ignoring the beautiful clothes, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I know that all of this — the clothes, the luxuries, the opulent room — is a trap. But sometimes you have to walk into a trap knowingly. The only thing you can do is mitigate the damage.

  Besides, my ass looks amazing in my new Gucci minidress. I don’t have very many weapons in this little power struggle between Mason and myself, but I’ll be damned if I don’t use every possible advantage I have at my disposal.

  Mason is too refined to eye me openly like the roughnecks and truck drivers I grew up with, but he looks just the same. Men never seem to realize that we can feel their lingering gaze on our backsides like a physical force.

  Except, in his case, feeling that gaze doesn’t make me angry. The fact that it doesn’t raise my hackles makes me furious, but only with myself.

  Just because he has a body carved from marble and a 10,000 megawatt smile doesn’t mean you let your guard down, Madison. If anything, you should be more on guard. He’s a snake.

  I shake my head. It’s such a terribly uncharitable thought. Besides, Mason isn’t actually a bad guy, from what I’ve seen. He’s nice, even. Just privileged.

  A sigh escapes me. Going back and forth with myself is a losing battle. I zip the dress up. It’s so tight I have trouble breathing, but damn if it isn’t the sexiest piece of clothing I’ve ever even seen, let alone worn.

  Girded with my new designer dress, I ride into battle like a freshly armored knight. It doesn’t take long to find Mason. He’s lounging under a huge umbrella on the beach. There are scattered people about, but none near him. They’re all playfully splashing about in the sand and surf.

  He is just as professionally dressed as I am. Or he was when he first arrived. His tailored Tom Ford suit is missing the jacket, but the gorgeous white button-down is somehow both utterly professional and amazingly casual at the same time. He looks like he’d be equally comfortable in a board meeting or a cookout, the utter bastard.

  No one should be allowed to be that good looking. It’s unfair to us mere mortals.

  Despite the fact that we haven’t spoken since I stormed out of the cafeteria, Mason is all smiles the moment he sees me. He lights up like a Christmas tree. Appropriate, since he’s tall enough to be one of the towering trees that surround the bluff.

  And I want to climb him like one. Rawr.

  “Good morning, Ms. Carter. I hope you slept well.” His smile is brighter than the early morning sun and just as warm.

  “So I’ve been demoted to Ms. Carter from Maddie?” I ask, arching an eyebrow questioningly.

  “I thought it better to establish some boundaries, given what happened yesterday.” His smile doesn’t falter, but I can sense him skirting the issue.

  Given that I came sixty seconds away from losing my virginity on that cafeteria table, maybe he isn’t wrong.

  “That’s the best idea you’ve had yet, Mr. Black.” I carefully school my face into the mask of a professional assistant. I can do a lot more good at his side than in his bed. I just need to stay focused, remember that.

  “What’s on our agenda today?”

  “Well, funny you should ask. We’ve got no meetings today, so I thought we could catch up on some paperwork, go over some internal business. You hit it out of the park so hard yesterday that this came today.”

  Mason pushes a tablet into my hands. It takes me a second for my eyes to adjust to the shade of his umbrella.

  “After consideration, Callahan Industries has decided to accept your proposal for construction of the first Black hotel in Galveston. We look forward to more communication with you and your lovely assistant.”

  “What does this mean, Mason? This is all new to me.” I ask, looking from the screen up to the gorgeous man in front of me.

  “It means, Mads,” Mason tosses the expensive electronic onto his sandy towel. “That I’ve earned a day off and you’ve earned a bonus.” He smiles at me as he begins to unbutton his shirt. I do my best not to let my eyes drop from his, but it’s hard.

  So, so hard.

  “I thought you said we needed to take care of paperwork and internal business today.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my mind on work and my thoughts at least somewhat pure. I’m not successful at either.

  “Well, I’ve got some documents for you to sign to make your position official.” He pushes a folder into my hands.

  “And the internal business?” I ask, not looking up from the papers I’m now holding.

  Mason must have been out of the cliff house at the crack of dawn to get all of this set up. The ink isn’t even smeared on the papers, which clearly list me not as Mason Black’s personal assistant, but as—

  “Property Manager of The Pine Bluff Escape?” I look at Mason, searching his face for answers.

  I look up as my eyes caress the words Property Manager.

  “Yes. Though I was hoping you might have dinner with me tonight— off the clock, of course.” The smile on his face curls up at one corner, giving him that arrogant, cocky smirk I love to hate.

  “And this Property Manager job offer is supposed to woo me?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Absolutely not. This is because you’re uniquely qualified to be in charge here. I realized that yesterday. Realized a lot more than that, too. I never thought anyone could love this place like I do.” I feel the color creeping into my face at the sweetness of Mason’s words. “But you’re far better at running it than I ever was. Less than a week with you and I already know you’ll be great.”

  I shake my head.

  “No, Mason.”

  “Mr. Black, please, at least while we’re ostensibly working.” He shucks his shirt off as he says it, then begins to work on his belt.

  “Mason — Mr. Black, sir, with all due respect, why are you disrobing at work?” I laugh, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

  “Glad you asked.” He grins at me, smirk melding back to playful, boyish enthusiasm.

  “Somebody reminded me yesterday that it’s been years since I took a day off. Somebody just got promoted to my old job, which means I’ve got a day off. I decided to spend the first half surfing. So, dinner?” He glances at his Amiga before removing it and adding it to the growing pile of clothing at his feet. I risk a glance down, but thankfully he was wearing swim trunks under his slacks.

  Not disappointed in the least. Nope.

  “I haven’t said yes, yet.”

  But Mason is already halfway into the surf, board under one arm. I watch him the whole way until he’s a speck in the verdant blue of the Pacific.

  Chapter 8

  Mason

  Cause she’s so California. She’s a wildfire out of control heading for you. — Gary Allan, ‘She’s So California’

  Even the thrill of riding the biggest waves in this part of California isn’t enough to shake Maddie out of my thoughts. The feisty girl slips into every empty space in my mind. Surfing is usually almost zen for me, but the dancing, laughing brunette in my head keeps me from turning my mind completely off. It’s still relaxing, but slightly torturous at the same time.

  I wasn’t lying to her about needing a day off. I can feel weeks, months, and years of tension melting off of me as I let go of the myriad things I’ve been juggling ever since I started carving out a place for myself in my Father’s empire.

  Never in a million years did I consider that I would be entrusting the responsibility for my baby, Pine Bluff, to a relative stranger with no real experience.

  Maddie really is that special, though. I’m not just physically drawn to her. It’s so much more than that. Her spirit, her quick wit and sharp tongue, the fire that burns bright in her amber eyes.

  I trust her.

  The r
ealization is odd. I don’t think I’ve ever fully trusted anyone before in my life. Definitely not so completely, totally, and instantly. This must be what people mean when they talk about “love at first sight.”

  The sun has crawled halfway across the sky before I look over to the umbrella and Maddie isn’t there. With someone else it might concern me, but I know she’s just busy doing what she does best.

  She might still be on the fence, but I already know that she’s the one for me. Whether she’ll have me or not is up to her, but I’m going to try my hardest to show her the truth I already know.

  We belong together.

  There’s a note waiting for me in my clothes when I finally make my way back to shore. My muscles ache, but it’s the sweet pain of a good workout. Hopefully not my only workout today.

  The note is simple, but it’s unmistakably Maddie.

  I picked yesterday. You pick tonight.

  PS Choose wisely.

  A grin begins to spread across my face. Part of me had worried that I would be able to overwhelm Maddie, that bowling her over with money, titles, power, and attention would pacify her, tame her somehow.

  Now I know better. It doesn’t matter what I throw at her, our perpetual struggle won’t ever end. It’s a relief. This delicious game of cat and mouse is everything I ever wanted but never found before.

  Whistling, I pull my clothes back on. The sun and the cool breeze from the beach have dried me enough that my shirt doesn’t stick to my skin as I button it halfway up. I don’t bother putting the tie back on — I am, after all, taking my first vacation day in ten years.

  Ideas have been racing through my mind all day. Places to go. There’s no shortage of restaurants we could visit. Extravagant eateries with more Michelin stars than tables, where you pay more for the experience than the food itself.

  But no, none of those places are right for Maddie. Not that she wouldn’t fit in there, but it isn’t where she belongs.

  Tapping my lip thoughtfully, I begin to make my way back to the hotel. Despite the fact that the sun-dried me, I still need to shower before dinner.

  I’m still lost in thought when I enter our room. There’s something different about the place, ever since Maddie moved in. A different feeling in the air. It’s no longer my place; it’s ours.

  I quickly peek around the place, making sure I’m alone. I didn’t expect to find Maddie here, but I wouldn’t want to walk in on her in the shower again.

  Well, I would, but not without being able to do something about it.

  The warm shower feels incredible after the chill of the ocean water. It’s hard to drag my thoughts into focus with images of Maddie infiltrating every nook and cranny. Somehow, I can’t shake the thought of her slipping into the shower with me. Just the thought makes my cock throb. I slide my hand along the slick length, pumping myself. One hand braced on the cool tile of the wall in front of me, I jerk myself to the thought of Maddie’s flashing, vibrant eyes.

  Five minutes later I realize exactly what I need to do. Chalk it up to the kind of thought that can only be gained from a shower, or from post-orgasmic clarity, but I know at once that it’s perfect.

  It doesn’t take long to make my way to the cafeteria. It’s right around lunchtime again, and unsurprisingly, the same group of people are gathered together, minus one. Maddie is nowhere to be seen — no doubt ensconced in my office. Her office, now.

  There’s a commotion as I make my way over, but I wave them all back down.

  “Sorry, sir. We’ll get back to work right away.” There’s a nervous energy among the group, that kind of uncertainty that only happens when the big boss suddenly shows up unannounced. Especially when you might have said something to him without knowing who he was the day before.

  “Relax, guys. I’m not on the clock, and neither are you. I actually had a favor to ask…”

  As I explain my plan, the faces around the table shift from apprehension to glee. I take it as a good sign that Maddie’s friends approve of my plan. Now the only thing to do is execute it.

  Chapter 9

  Madison

  Spent my days with a woman unkind

  Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine — Led Zeppelin, ‘Going to California’

  Leave it to Mason Black to drive me insane with my dream job.

  The proposals he drew up this morning are absolutely insane. The plan calls for giving each employee a share of stock in the company — a massive increase in not just compensation but also making everyone who works here partially an owner. He wouldn’t even retain the majority, between what he’s giving to everyone else and what he’s already divested to me.

  There’s more. Benefits, vacation, healthcare, maternity leave… Pine Bluff is about to become not just the most luxurious place in the state for its clients, but also for the people who work here.

  It’s ambitious and a gamble. In other words, perfectly Mason.

  Of course, there’s a lot to be done to push through this revolutionary worker utopia, and he’s left most of it up to me. His note is clear:

  “I know you’ll make sure this works better than anyone else could, including myself.”

  It’s a sweet thought, the kind of genuine compliment I would love to receive from him… if it didn’t mean I had to spend hours and hours going over the fine print to make sure it’s airtight.

  I’ve never wanted to strangle someone as much as I want to throttle Mason.

  His throat isn’t all you want to wrap your hands around.

  A groan escapes my lips as I let my head sink down to rest on the solid oak desk. The wood grain is cool beneath my skin. I sigh, then straighten back up. A saying my Meemaw used to chastise me with flits through my mind.

  Ain’t no rest for the wicked, Maddie.

  Yet Mason, the wickedest of them all, is off galavanting on the beach after dumping his entire workload on me.

  A grin crosses my face. Well, hopefully he’s worried about my note, by now. I meant what it said: I hope he won’t disappoint me.

  Somehow, I know he won’t, even though I have no idea what he could possibly do to not. All I know is that no amount of wine or fine dining will do it. If Mason Black is really serious about this, about us, he’ll figure something out.

  As the time ticks by, I begin to feel a knot of apprehension growing in my stomach. It’s the wisdom of experience whispering in my ear, telling me that as usual, I’m ruining a good thing. That I should be ecstatic that a man like Mason would even give me the time of day, let alone do everything he’s already done.

  And yet, it’s not enough. I refuse to lower my standards just because no one else has ever lived up to them. If Mason can’t either, well, I’ll be in a better position to find someone who will as the manager of Pine Bluff.

  I really, really hope he does, though.

  Five o’clock rolls around, and I’m still hip deep in work. There’s emails to answer, fires to put out. Guests who have special requests that can only possibly be answered by the head of the hotel. Mason wasn’t kidding when he said that this job was a lot of work.

  Somehow, it both delights and infuriates me that he was right.

  I should quit for the day, but another thirty minutes go by before I feel like I could slip away without everything crashing down overnight. Another fifteen minutes would make me sleep easier tonight.

  At six, I realize I’m stalling. Dragging my feet in apprehension of disappointment.

  Face it, Madison. Your ridiculous expectations are going to rob you of your best chance of finding happiness. You’re going to grow old and alone and die a virgin surrounded by fifty-seven cats.

  I slam the desk drawer shut, scattering papers onto the floor.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” I mutter to myself.

  I glance down at my phone. I purposefully put it on silent during the day, knowing that if it began buzzing with texts from Mason, I wouldn’t be able to focus on work at all. I’m surprised and a little disheartened t
hat there’s nothing waiting for me from him.

  He must still be struggling to come up with something. The mental image of Mason pacing in the apartment, sweating, wracking his brain for the perfect choice fills me with a thrill of glee that originates somewhere between my thighs. It’s a perverse joy, but I can’t help but enjoy it.

  Maybe it’d be ok to take him for a test drive, even after he fails. Just this once?

  My inner slut is growing more and more desperate with each rejected suitor, but I roll my eyes at my own thirsty thoughts.

  The elevator ride that captivated me the first time goes by in the blink of an eye. It’s amazing how quickly we get used to things.

  The sight that greets me when the doors open sends all thoughts, naughty or not, flying from my head.

  There are half a dozen people lounging in the opulent living room. The lights are dim, and the room is filled with low music and the murmur of good conversation. There’s laughter and the clink of glasses as people knock bottles of beer together.

  Several of my friends turn towards the elevator, and a cheer goes up among them as I step out of the elevator.

  “What the hell?”

  “He said that he’d be down on the beach waiting for you. Something about a date?”

  That smooth son of a bitch.

  I narrow my eyes at the spread of food across the table. There’s a lot of sandwiches and pizza.

  “Alright, where’d all the food come from? You guys have to cater your own shindig?”

  Trey shakes his head as he pushes a plate of food into my hand.

  “Naw girl. Craziest shit I’ve ever seen. Homeboy did all this himself. Had to ask for some tips, but it was kind of fun, you know?”

  “Wait, Mason made this? Mason Black. Tall guy, insufferable, never worked a day in his life?”

  “Shit, he’s worked now.” There’s a chorus of laughter from my friends.

  “Besides, he may be the boss, but he explained what you two did with the company. We’re all in this together now.” There’s a cheer as several people clink their bottles together.