Chapter 20
20
MASON
“You look like shit.”
Pia and her family had left earlier, along with our last weekend guest. And though I tried to tell Parker I could paint without him, that he should take the day off, he stubbornly refused to listen. Consequently, the two of us used the empty inn time to knock down the wall between the reception area and main dining room to make a bigger space for potential parties. Though I still wasn’t sure about weddings, Pia’s ideas on potential special events had a lot of merit.
“Thanks,” I said as we cleaned, the wall now completely demolished.
“You didn’t sleep?” Parker correctly guessed.
“Not well,” I admitted, grabbing two waters from the cooler and tossing one to Parker. Sitting on one of the covered chairs in the corner, I took a long swig.
“Talk to me.”
Of all the guys, Parker was the one I’d always opened up to most. Unlike Cole and Beck, he usually went easy on the advice unless I asked for it.
“I kissed Pia last night.”
“Whoa.” Parker sat down on the cooler. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that. “When?”
“When you guys came back. It’s been pretty obvious there’s something between us?—”
He laughed. “No shit. Really?”
I ignored that.
“I may have said something to her at the bar that precipitated her texting me when she got back, wanting to talk.”
“What’d ya say?”
“Something about me wanting to toss her onto my bed earlier in the day when we accidentally found ourselves in my bedroom.”
Parker oozed skepticism, likely because of the “accidentally” part.
“Anyway, she texted me. We kissed. But I stopped it there. And then we hardly spoke this morning. Which is exactly the problem. We can’t fool around and work together. I should never have done it.”
Parker didn’t say anything. Typical of him. So I prompted him. “What do you think?”
“You want my opinion?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“I think you’re beating yourself up for a lack of discipline, but this isn’t the army. You’re not violating OPSEC. Yeah, you’re her boss. And yeah, it might get complicated if you decide to stay and the two of you have to work together. Or equally as complicated if things work out, but you go back to the city. But it’s not a life-or-death matter, not in the sense you’re trained to think like. You’re both adults and can have an adult conversation about the consequences of getting together. That there’s something between you is an understatement, big time. If it were me, I’d consider exploring it. But it’s not me, so I get your hesitation. But sometimes, in the real world, you have to break protocol.”
“Breaking protocol can get you killed.”
“Or get your heart broken.”
“Almost just as bad.”
“Jesus,” Beck said, coming in with supplies. “It’s like a funeral in here. What the hell?”
“Mason kissed Pia,” Parker said. There was zero chance Beck wouldn’t find out, and I’d known it the second I told Parker. For better or worse, there were no secrets between this group of guys.
“Oh, shit.”
“That’s what I said.” Parker stood, taking the bag from Beck.
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s beating himself up about it. Boss man and all.”
Parker had such a way with words. “I’m sitting right here.”
“Great, then talk,” Beck said, shooing Parker off the cooler and grabbing a water.
“There’s nothing to talk about. It happened. Won’t happen again. Let’s get to work.”
As if that was going to be the end of it.
“Not so fast. Why won’t it happen again?”
“Besides the obvious?”
“Yeah, sure. Besides the obvious.”
I was done with this discussion. “Never mind. Let’s get to work. You guys sure you want to spend your Sunday?—”
“Yes, we do. Now shut the hell up and let’s finish this.”
It wasn’t until the wall was gone, the debris and dust cleared and the three of us were at the kitchen table with beers that Pia’s name came up again.
“So what’s the plan?” Beck asked. “Just pretend nothing happened?”
“Great question,” I said. “I have no fucking clue.”
“You don’t know how to deal with Pia because you have no idea what’s next,” Parker said. “And that’s the bigger problem.”
Obviously, he was right.
“There’s just so much to consider,” I said, having thought about little else, besides the fact that Dad would never come walking into this kitchen again.
And Pia. I’d thought a lot about Pia.
“Alright.” Beck jumped up from his stool. “Let’s do it.”
“What are we doing?” Parker asked as Beck started opening and closing drawers.
“What the hell are you looking for?” I asked.
“Ahh, here we go.” He pulled out a pad and pen from the junk drawer. One that I cleaned out multiple times but Dad always seemed to find a way to clutter up again.
Now I’d be keeping it just as it was.
Beck drew a line down the middle. He put the word “cop” on one side and “HH” on the other.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
Parker looked like he was going to crack up any second.
“One good thing about being a cop. Go.”
“Beck—”
“Would you just amuse me, please?”
“You’re amusing, alright,” Parker said, getting himself another beer.
“Or a positive about running Heritage Hill,” Beck said. “Either one. Go.”
I hated shit like this. But knowing Beck, it was either amuse him for a few minutes or listen to him soapbox all night.
“There’s a lot I like about being a cop,” I relented.
“Alright, give me something you don’t like.”
“Also easy to do. Public opinion of us isn’t good and not improving.”
Beck wrote that down. “What else?”
“Perps suing you for everything. Department not backing us like they used to,” I said as he continued to write. “Mandatory overtime. The city itself isn’t really for me. And not having a hook will make it hard to move up the ladder.”
“Anything else you don’t like?”
“Plenty,” I said, taking a swing of beer. “But those are the biggies.”
“Alright, now Heritage. What do you dislike about running this place?”
I thought about that for a second. “I never really saw myself as a people person.”
“Agreed,” Parker shot out, for shits and giggles I assumed.
“But Pia is taking over some of the guest interactions. Lemme think.”
I didn’t mind Cedar Falls. I actually liked it better than the city. And the guys were here. “No Cole,” I said.
“Don’t write that down,” Parker said to Beck. “He clearly forgot to say no me and you in the city, so those two cancel each other out.”
I rolled my eyes.
“No pension,” I said. “The uncertainty. Although maybe that’s not really a negative since I have more control over my salary, even if it’s not guaranteed. If we play our cards right, the payday will put the force to shame.”
His pen hovered. “Do I write it down?”
“Yeah,” Parker said, as if we were asking these questions about him. “Uncertainty is a negative. Mason’s not great with that.”
Jesus fucking Christ. The pair of them.
“What else?” Beck asked.
“None of it matters,” I said, having thought of this laundry list before. “It comes down to choosing between carrying on my father’s legacy or honoring my mother’s.”
That shut both of them up.
I didn’t need to explain. It was no secret that helping people had been a dream of mine since my mother died. It wasn’t a pipe dream either. That, or the army. I’d done both. The former was rewarding as hell, even if some of the second- and third-order effects were shitty. And the latter? I still missed it.
“Not to be glib,” Beck said finally, as if that wasn’t his middle name, “but I think those cancel each other out.”
I glared at him.
“I’m serious. Neither are about you. I’m pretty sure Papa Bennett would be proud of whatever you decided to do as long as it made you happy.”
“Damn.” Parker shook his head. “Sometimes you surprise me, Beckham.”
He didn’t comment on the use of his full name. “I can be deep,” Beck responded. “I just hide it well.”
“Really fucking well,” I agreed.
Just like that, the heavy tone lifted and the guys started ribbing me again. Probably sensing there wasn’t much more to pull from me, they let the matter of my future drop. Even so, I wasn’t done thinking about it. What the guys had said. And beyond that, the things I hadn’t added to the list.
Like Pia.
On one hand, not having her around would be a negative of going back to the city. Despite the fact that I’d sent her away last night, I was also counting the minutes until she came back tomorrow. But she was a negative in the HH column too, because being here, and knowing I should stay away from her, was fucking torture.
Which brought me full circle. Except…
The left side of Beck’s paper was looking mighty empty. Could I really see myself not being a cop? If I left the NYPD, that would be the end of the road. It was all or nothing.
Kind of like the Pia situation.
I either said “fuck it” and had that adult talk with her about us. Or I toed the line, tried like hell to ignore her as anything but my employee. And the more I thought about it, that second idea seemed absurd.
“We need to talk,” I said, only realizing I did so out loud when the guys looked at me.
“Huh?” Beck asked.
“Me and Pia. We need to talk. To have that adult conversation.”
“Oh yeah,” Beck said in a “frat boy” tone. He made a “quote, unquote” gesture with his hands. “Talk. Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
More maturely, Parker caught my eye. “I think that’s a good idea.”
So did I.
“Nothing like talking myself out of my own moral code,” I said, half-disgusted, but also excited about the possibilities.
“Trust your instincts, Mace,” Parker said. “They got you to Ranger School. Kept you alive overseas. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Use it.”
Though he didn’t say it, Parker’s words somehow felt like an argument for being with Pia.
“You just want to sweeten the pact pot,” I teased him.
“Listen, we all know the rules. You either abide by them or pay the piper.”
“Who needs another beer?” Beck asked, heading to the fridge. I lifted my arm up. Might as well get good and toasted while the inn was empty. Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day, no matter how it went with Pia.
Halfway through another beer, I wondered what Pia was thinking. What she was doing. Fuck it. Why wait until tomorrow? I picked up my phone.
“He has that look,” Beck said.
I ignored him.
Sent the text.
Where are you?
Took another swig of beer.
Waited.
Looked at my phone.
Finally, an agonizing five minutes later, she texted back.
I’m home. Why?
Can I come over? We need to talk.
Another wait, though this one wasn’t as long.
And it was just one word.
Sure.