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“You don’t have to do that, Nina,” Mason tells her.
She shrugs him off, and I hide my smirk. “It’s fine. Two sets of hands will get it done twice as fast.”
Never in a million years did I expect Mason to bring a woman to the house.
“My name’s Scarlet, but you can call me Scar.” I extend my hand to her but quickly realise that it’s covered in the mini crab cakes I was carrying.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she says, laughing with me when I retract my dirty hand.
“My brother hasn’t told you anything about me, though, I presume.” I look up at Mason, and he gives me a guilty look.
“I brought her to meetyou, Scar.”
To meet me. The way he emphasises the word—and for whose benefit? Does he think it will make me happy to hear he comes here for me and not our dad? He has no idea how much he hurts the people closest to him sometimes. “Dad’s been struggling,” I tell him, going back on my word to get him in the door before I go in on him with the family crap.
And I’m met with silence. Awkward, sad silence.
I lower my eyes to the ground and sigh. “I’m going to get some more champagne,” I say without thought.
We don’t even have champagne.
Mason gestures for Nina to walk in front of him, but she doesn’t budge. She looks up at Mason with a thoughtful look. “It’s okay, you go. I’m going to help your sister.”
I watch as he whispers into her ear, “You don’t need to.”
Nina turns, kissing the side of his mouth. “I want to.”
He watches us go, not moving from the doorway as we wander off down the hall.
“I think we just removed his shield,” I whisper, quiet enough for him not to hear.
Nina gives me a subtle nod as she looks over her shoulder one last time before entering the kitchen.
“Would you like a drink?”
“I’d love one, thank you,” she says, sliding onto a stool at the island as she surveys the kitchen. “Your home is beautiful.”
I turn, wine bottle grasped in my hand. “Thanks. As you can see, it needs some TLC. I’ve barely managed to scratch the surface over the years, but I’m getting there.”
She looks at me, slightly confused, and I wonder how much my brother has told her about us. “You wouldn’t get someone in to do the work for you? I’m sure Mase would know someone. It’s real estate your family is in, right?”
“My dad and Mase, not me. I wouldn’t know where to start with the ‘family’ business, and have you seen Mason’s place? I’d never let his minions loose in here.” I grin at her, hoping she doesn’t think I’m horrible. “And I kind of love doing it myself; it’s rewarding to finish one room and then pick the next.”
I ease around the kitchen, collecting a second wineglass and opening a bottle of wine.
“I love that. I’m completely awful at all things DIY.” Nina laughs, and it makes me smile. “Would Mase not come and help you at least?”
So he’s told her nothing. “Oh boy, you’re in for a ride. He doesn’t come here. Not unless hehasto.”
“Like when your dad is having a bad day?” She gives me a tight smile, and I tilt my head, wondering if maybe she does know and was being polite before.
“Exactly.” I slump down into the chair next to her, filling both glasses with wine. I think back to the last time Mase came out here just weeks ago when Dad was sick. “He told you about that?” I ask, my eyebrows dipping into a frown.
“Yeah, I mean, not all that willingly”—she takes a small sip—“but it came up.”
It’s hard to think about Mason being able to talk openly with someone so new in his life when it’s all I’ve ever asked for. But I also know that this is good. The fact he is here, with Nina, and she knows things. It’s a step. “Mason had our parents for three years more than me, and I think he remembers a lot about Mum, whereas I only have the pictures.”
“I’m so sorry, Scarlet.”
