“I’m Mason, in case you were wondering.” He rested his elbows on the bar, leisurely sipping his drink.
Mason suits him.
I turned the name over in my head, committing it to memory.
“I’m Katie.” I gave him a small smile, gradually relaxing.
“I know.” When he smiled again, his dimples revealed themselves in his cheeks. The man looked like he belonged in magazines; how could he possibly know who I was?
“Your father told me all about you.”
“My father?” I repeated back, furrowing my brows. If he knew my father, then his familiarity made a bit more sense. Maybe Ihadseen him before.
“Yes, Allen, your father. Based on what he’s told me, your aspiration in life wasn’t working at a hole-in-the-wall vintage diner.” He shrugged.
Well, Mason was clearly bold and straightforward. The mention of my father’s name, coupled with the fact that he’d spoken about me to a stranger, set my teeth on edge.
“Oh, so because a man I haven’t seen or spoken to in four years mentioned me, you suddenly know all about me?” I checked, shaking my head when he smirked at me like that’s exactly what he meant.
Fortunately, Mr. Bell arrived and gave me something else to do. I was never interested in any of the customers, and talking to them was an absolute no go. Mason had been inside for all of fifteen minutes, and I was ready to have a drawn out debate with him.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bell,” I greeted him warmly. He was the only customer I ever looked forward to seeing.
He shuffled inside, donning a blue Hawaiian themed button up, cargo shorts, and a golfer hat to cover his white hair. I always thought he was the cutest little old man.
He’d never been rude to me or treated me as an outsider - like most of the town did
“Katie.” He tilted his cap, taking a seat on the left side of the bar, “Mr. Andreou?” He did a double take when he finally spotted Mason, damn near falling off his stool.
I froze in the midst of grabbing a coffee mug. All the homeschooling and shunning in the world couldn’t stop someone from recognizing that surname.
The Andreous practically owned Redwood and the two surrounding towns. It was their family’s money that funded most of the business start-ups. I didn’t understand why one of them would feel the need to venture into Malty’s. Maybe I was profiling him, but the diner was far beneath them.
Forcing myself to continue what I was doing and act naturally, my mind ran rampant with questions I’d never ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted them to be answered.
Chapter Six
Theway he was staring at me made me feel naked. Like he was sizing me up.
Between the sedan following me home, the roses, and now one of the most powerful men around randomly dropping inside the diner, I was almost ready to end my shift early and go home. I couldn’t, though. The day had to pan out as regularly as possible.
I stayed clear of Mason for the remainder of my time on the clock, only refilling his coffee once.
No matter where I went, his eyes seemed to always find me. Usually, this would have me floating on flames, but I didn’t mind it. Though I should have. I was at the center of his attention, and something told me that wasn’t a place I should want to be.
I frowned, peering out the door, watching the rain come down in sheets. The sky had gone from bright and sunny to dark and gloomy an hour or so ago. Almost like my mood.
All I wanted to do was go home, shower, and fall asleep forever. Now, a twenty-minute walk had just been turned into a half an hour one. When it rained in Redwood, it was always with the force of a hurricane.
The few cars in the parking lot swayed from the wind’s strength. Pulling my hair back with an elastic and tucking my meager tips in my back jean pocket, I prepared myself for another run home.
“You’re not planning to walk, are you?” A smooth voice questioned from directly behind me. Slightly jumping, I pushed the door open, almost getting drenched. Mason pulled me back in with a gentle hand on my shoulder, yanking the door shut in the process.
“It’s just rain,” I pointed out.
“It’s not safe,” he retorted.
Raising my brows, I looked up at him, biting back a smile. If this is what insta-lust felt like, then I was feeling it. His lips looked soft. He had a visible body definition beneath his suit, and he had the face of pure temptation. It was so cliché to want the beautiful, dangerous stranger in a suit.
