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“Mase! You can’t—”
“I can.” He looks down at me, his face stony compared to the softer guy I had by my side moments ago. “Trust me. I can.”
“Mr Hemmings, a pleasure to meet you… again.” I look at Mason, hoping I’ve run into the older man in the past and I’m not talking completely out of my ass.
“Please, call me Rupert. And what a treat to have you in attendance this evening. You’re well?”
“Very.”
“And your father? How is Anthony Lowell these days? He didn’t feel like showing his face tonight, no?”
“No, he isn’t a hundred per cent at the moment.” Mason’s hand grows tighter in mine. “But you already knew that, right?”
“I… uh… well, yes, but—”
“I appreciate your concern, Mr Hummings. I’ll send your regards.”
“Ouch.” I eye the tall man standing beside Mr Hemmings. Cooper, I believe Mason said his name is. He’s currently smiling at me as if he knows my dirtiest fantasies, his eyes roaming me.
Elliot leans in, his shoulder blocking my body from view. “You’ll be smiling with a giant black hole if you even look at her again tonight. Fuck off.”
Cooper scoffs at Elliot, his lip curling. “So polite. Seriously, how do you get invited with such professionalism?”
“The fact you need to ask that question shows just how clueless you really are,Coop,” Elliot snarls.
“Rupert.” Mason nods farewell as he leads me away and through a door to our left.
“Hummings.” Elliot chuckles at my back. He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, Scar.”
We’re greeted at the door with glasses of champagne, and as we make our way through the room, we’re approached by more servers carrying canapés. Mason refuses to let go of my hand even when we’re inside the event and only releases me when we’re seated at our table for the meal.
I’m sat between Mason and Charlie, then Elliot is to Charlie’s left and Lance beside him. There are four other seats at our table, but they’ve yet to be occupied.
“Malcolm, how are you?” Mason stands and puts his hand out to the gentleman approaching the table. “Mrs Jefferys.”
Malcolm and Mrs Jefferys? I snap my eyes to Lance, but he doesn’t meet my gaze, his face as stern as it was in the penthouse. What’s his problem tonight?
“I wasn’t sure you’d show, Mason,” the gentleman says, making Mason’s brows meet in the middle.
“Sorry?”
Lance clears his throat and places his tumbler on the table. “I can assure you, Malcolm, what happened today is a rarity at Ellis and Frey. You’ll accept my deepest apologies for the miscommunication, and rest assured it won’t happen again. The meeting has been rescheduled.”
“Why was it cancelled?” Mason questions, his voice as firm as Lance’s.
I watch on as Lance works his jaw, and I know my name is right there, sliding across his tongue. “Something came up.”
“Something more important than the meeting?”
My brother’s pissed, and I know I have to say something.
“Mase, I—”
“Yes. It was more important.”
It was? Why does that make my stomach flip?
Reiterating my earlier thoughts that Mason trusts Lance, he nods, losing all annoyance from his features. “Right, then. I’m sorry, Malcolm. Like Lance said, it won’t happen again.”
