Page 41 of Playing with the Boss
EIGHTEEN
Mason
My head was so wrapped around sinking balls deep in her that I didn’t think about the fact I took her bare. Fuck—what if she’s not on any protection? I wait for the panic to set in, the inevitable racing of my heart while I wait in reception to discover my fate.
It doesn’t come.
The thought of Lisa, fat with my baby? Holy shit. I want that. I fucking want that life.
She left with a heated kiss yesterday, her face a little flushed from the quick shower she took in my hotel room. I expected to get a message from her later in the afternoon—chicks can’t help but seek out reassurance like that. But she never got in touch.
And neither did I.
I was so taken aback by everything: how she took charge, the way she then surrendered to me, the honest passion in her eyes. I think I’ve met my match.
“Mason!” Alf calls out from the boardroom doorway. “We’re waiting for you.”
I drag a hand over my face and stand. Fuck my life. I’ve let a woman get me all tangled up with my goddamn emotions and look where that’s landed me. Goddamn, this sissy shit is complex. I drag my feet toward what I’m pretty damn sure is going to be my dismissal. Then again, an enforced break might not be a bad thing. I’d have plenty of time to figure out what all this cotton candy bullshit in my head means.
It’s pretty simple, douche. Snare the girl.
Yeah, but how? If I’m going to make sure this thing with Lisa doesn’t die a sad death as no more than a fun fling while I’m visiting, I need to know my motivation behind why I want her for myself. What motivates me to choose her? Why has this dark-haired siren sung my song after years of seemingly fun non-committal sex?
Why the hell has her influence got me standing in this fucking boardroom, looking into the eyes of my goddamn nemesis, praying for an easy break.
“Gentlemen.”
Tony gestures to the chair furthest from his. “Sit.”
I make my way to the far end of the table to sit in relative isolation. Alf settles to Tony’s left.
“Thank you for joining us, Mason.”
I stiffen at the echo of Pete’s voice from the conference phone in the center of the table. I’m fucked.
“I’ve consulted over the accusations against both of you,” Pete continues. “Since nobody was present with you during this ruckus, the reasons given for the disagreement are all I have to go on. Unsubstantiated facts.” He sighs.
I shift my gaze to Tony who clenches his hands together before him. His eyes are hard, trained on me, his mouth set in a grim line.
I get the feeling he’s already heard the outcome of this investigation.
“Tony has agreed to supply detailed expense sheets for the past six months to Moira.” So he agrees there’s something to look into, even if he’s passing the job off to his personal assistant. “On the condition that any personal ties between you, Mason, and Miss East are terminated.”
They can’t do that. Management can’t fucking dictate who I choose to see in my own time.
“And if I don’t agree with these terms?”
“You’re admitting something was going on, then?” Tony sneers.
Alf leans back in his seat, eyes closed as he tips his face toward the ceiling.
“This is really the only option, Pete?” I look toward the conference phone as though it were him, begging with my eyes. Please let him have another option.
“It’s the only option.”
“Isn’t this against employment law?” I press.
Silence fills the room. I fucking knew it. They were bargaining on me agreeing to something they can’t legally enforce.