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His face twists in dismay. “Uh, no, of course not. Could we please discuss this in private?”
I glare at him. “Did you get any of my messages?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Yes. I’m sorry.”
Who is this man, and what has he done with Mason Raker? I shake my head in frustration. “Are you okay? Does this have anything to do with you getting together with your mother?”
His gaze darkens. “I don’t want to talk about her.”
“Well too fucking bad, Mason. You owe me some explanations and I’m not leaving here until I have them.”
He apologizes to the trainer before taking me by the elbow and walking us out of earshot.
“Listen ... I think we should take a break for a while.”
And there it is. “For a while?” I laugh. “Grow a pair, Mason. Say it.”
His face flushes. “For the last time, please, can we go somewhere and talk? It’s nothing to do with you, I swear to God.”
The dog trainer stands just a few feet away frozen in place. His gaze shuttling between me and Mason. He might not be able to hear us, but he’s no idiot. He can tell I’m two seconds away from breaking into martial arts and taking out Mason’s power hand.
“Seriously? ‘It’s not you, it’s me?’ I have thought many terrible things about you, Mason, but I never thought you were a sad cliché.” All of my anger and hurt boil up, and I grab Mason’s coffee cup and dump it on his shoe.
“Hey.” he shouts in protest, but I’ve already spun on my heel and I’m jogging off. I glance back over my shoulder. Mason’s trying to follow me, but he trips over Puck’s leash and falls on his ass.
I leave him there, breaking into a run.
37
ROWAN
“He did what?”Shelby shouts into the phone as I settle in at my desk. Amanda isn’t here today—Cecelia texted me to let me know—which is the only reason I came in to the office.
“You heard me.”
“Effing hell. I can’t believe I encouraged you to go for it. I’m an idiot.”
“No, I’m the idiot. I knew what he was like. Everyone knows what he’s like.”
“This is above and beyond, though. I mean, asking to have that bitch replace you? Specifically her? That’s just spiteful.”
“It’s something, all right,” I agree, my voice sounding cold and professional. I pick up a pencil and start writing on my desk calendar. I am calm. I am mature. I am handling this like an adult.
“When did this happen?”
“A couple of days ago. I wasn’t ready to talk about it at the time.” I look down at my desk blotter. I scribbled so hard on it that I went through several sheets of paper. I pick up the pencil, snap it in two, and throw it across the room, but I do it in a mature, calm fashion.
“I wondered about the radio silence. So, what are we going to do to him? I’m thinking tarring and feathering, for a start.”
“I’m just going to politely ignore him from now on.”
“Oh, eff that. He was a total dick to you.”
“He can break up with me. He’s under no obligation to date anyone, including me.” I grab another pencil from the desk and open my box of Rovers chocolates. I stab Mason’s candy with a pencil, in a calm and mature fashion, and take faint satisfaction in watching it bleed cherry juice.
“I know. But having you removed from your position, replacing you with a woman who’s been a bitch to you and who tried to sabotage you? That’s above and beyond. You should be pissed.”
“I guess.” I toss the pencil and the chocolate into the trash. I dump the rest of the box there too. I’ve lost my appetite for Rovers chocolates, which is sad, because it’s like losing your appetite for life.
