Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Nina
My mother never begged me to stay. Not once. Most weeks, I’d leave to stay with Maggie and John, and she wouldn’t ever put up a fight. She wouldn’t tell me to stay or that she would try to be better. She let me go. Every. Single. Time.
I should leave him. I should protect myself and run far away. But I can’t. For the first time in my life, I want to plant my feet and throw myself into somebody else’s world. I want a home—a forever one.
“I don’t want you to help me buy a studio.”
“Fine.”
“I don’t want you buying me anything, period. It’s too much, and everything needs to be slower. We are moving a million miles an hour.”
“But you will live here?” He means it as a question, but he is telling me, his tone definite.
“I will live here because I chose to, yes. And I will contribute to the bills.”
He narrows his eyes at me. He doesn’t like that. “I only want to look after you.”
“It’s too much too soon; give me time. I need to do this my way.” I should have done this at the start, made it clear.
I told him I didn’t want to be bought, and I know I made that clear, but I should have told him that I needed to move slower. I’ve done more with Mase than I have with any man ever.
“I know I love you, that part I am certain of.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but?” He glares.
“I don’t know if I trust you anymore. I feel like we lost it before we even had it.”
He closes his eyes, but it’s not in sadness. He’s annoyed that I feel that way. “You know you can trust me.”
“No, I don’t. You haven’t given me any reason to. The studio, Cara, they’re not small things. It’s life-changing for me; this is my life!”
“I know that.”
“You don’t.” I pause, fighting against my head, which tells me to hotfoot it out of here, but my heart screams at me to stay, begging me to feed it with the love it craves. The type of love that makes it beat stronger. The type of love only he can give me. “But we can work on it,” I force out.
“Yeah?” He questions, taking my face in his hands again.
I have to move forward. I can’t run away every time I hit a bump in the road. I have to face it. Overcome it.
“Yeah,” I tell him.
“I thought I’d blown it. The studio. I know I fucked up, Nina.”
“We have a long way to go, Mason.”
We are far from perfect, and we do have a long way to go. But today I make a new promise because I want to stay.
Mase
“Didn’t she tell you specifically last month not to buy her shit?” Elliot asks with a smug smile on his face.
“Oh, they never really mean it. This is perfect,” George tells me, coming to sit on the edge of my desk.
“If I make it about Lucy, get you to plan it.” I look to Elliot, willing him to get on board.
“Fuck off, Lowell, I have enough to deal with.”
“Like what?” I frown, calling him out on his bullshit.
“You think they can all just take time off and go on holiday?” Lance asks. “You’re fucking gaga over her, mate.”
“You pricks going to come or not? Let me deal with the girls.”
They all eye each other before looking back at me. “Yeah, I’m in,” Charlie says. “I need the break.”
I nod, agreeing with him. He seems to be doing alright, but I know this past month has stirred up a lot of shit he had buried. I can imagine getting out of the office is exactly what he needs.
“Count me in.” Elliot grins.
“Fuck it.” Lance relents, shrugging.
I look up and over my shoulder. “Sorry, George mate, you’ll have to man the office this time.”
“I’m in charge,” he says with a smile.
“If you think you can handle it? I will have someone come up from downstairs to check in and call to make sure things are going okay.”
“Oh, have a day off, will you,” he scolds me. “I’m excited for you boys. I thought you were all looking a little pale.”
“You’ve gotta get the girls on board first,” Lance reminds me.
“It won’t take a lot.” I smirk, drumming my fingers on the desk. “I have a plan.”
Nina
“Girls?”
Heaving the suitcase onto the sofa, I take in the utter disarray that is their apartment. Lucy is a clean freak. She can’t stand mess. Yet the lounge floor is covered in outfits, some matching and some discarded to the side, clearly not making the cut.
“Girls?!” I shout, frowning. “Where are they?”
Following the music, I go to their shared bathroom, pushing open the door.
And there they are, in all their naked glory. I should be surprised, but nothing surprises me with them anymore.
“Surprise, motherfucker!” Megan shouts, popping off a cork.
“Jesus, Meg, you’ll take my damn eye out.” I chuckle, shielding my face. “What are you idiots doing?”
Stepping into the room, I take in their glasses of fizz and skimpy bikinis, both of them covered in shave foam and razors in hand.
“I might have told a little white lie.”
“Luce,” I warn.
“Girl, we’re going to Spain.”
“What?!” I frown.
“For my birthday! Girls’ trip.”
My face drops, and I know I’m about to disappoint her. “I can’t go away right now. I have no money.”
“I’m paying.” She shrugs, turning away from me and cleaning off the razor in the sink.
“Did you win the lottery all of a sudden?” I ask, eyeing her shiny gold bikini. “Love that by the way.”
“No! Mum and dad gave me some vouchers, and I thought I would treat your poor ass, but you don’t have to come.” She grins wide at me.
My lip tips up on one side. God, I need a holiday. Time away with the girls sounds perfect right now.
“What about Jean? I thought you had a fashion thing?”
She looks at me as if I’m stupid. “You think I needed your wardrobe to go to Spain with Jean?” She juts her head out, emphasising her point.
“So, I basically just packed my suitcase to go on holiday.”
“Yup.”
“Shit. I didn’t really think about what I was packing.” I share everything with the girls, but I’m not about to give up my best clothes. Lucy is a hoarder, and I won’t see it for a year.
“Well, thanks!” She laughs.
“We leave tonight. You need to get a move on.” Megan grins, handing me a flute.
“Tonight? I can’t go tonight.”
“Why not?” they both say in unison.
“I… I—”
“Go get ready, bitch!” Luce shouts, waggling her brows at me.
My stomach twists with excitement. It’s been so long since we’ve been away. “We’re going to Spain?”
“Yeahhhhh!” Megan bumps her hip with mine as we start to dance around the bathroom to “Post Malone” by Sam Feldt.
Two hours later, my skin is as smooth as the day I was born, my hair is washed and set in deep curls, and my nails are a pretty shade of coral.
I feel ready.
I have one more thing I need to do, though, and I know he will hate this. Well, he won’t hate the grovelling. I’m sure he will love that part, but the part when I tell him I’m going… Yeah, he will hate that.
The girls told me to call him, but I knew I couldn’t leave without seeing him. He would probably have a tantrum and come after me in his fancy plane if I did.
These past few weeks has been our best together.
He seems so much more relaxed now and even spoke about his dad a little with me, which came completely out of the blue.
And I’ve been searching relentlessly for a new studio.
Nothing is fitting me or my budget. I’m trying my best not to get down about it.
It will happen.
I called Vinny from the taxi to ask if Mason was in the office, and he told me I wouldn’t need his ID card. He was right. The lady at the reception smiled when I told her my name, letting me straight up.
Checking myself in the elevator mirror, I fluff my hair and pout my lips, noticing they are a little dry. The door pings open, and I quickly lick my lips to make them look shiny.
“Hello,” a friendly voice greets me.
I spin and find a guy standing behind me at the sofas. He is watering a plant–I’m sure I never noticed plants in here before. His three-piece suit–with bow tie–is immaculate.
“Hi,” I say warmly.
“You are Nina!” He points at me with complete certainty.
“I am her.” I shrug.
His smile is infectious, and I can feel my dimples out in full force. “George?” I question.
“Yes. I am him.” He grins. “Oh, you are just as gorgeous in person as in the pictures.”
I can feel my cheeks flush red at the compliment, but then I frown, not understanding. “Pictures?”
He puts down the jug of water and comes to stand next to me. “The ones in Mason’s office. The ones from Paris.”
“Oh, I’ve not seen them.” Mase has my photo in his office?
“Is he expecting you?” He walks with me toward the main desk.
“No, I have an impromptu trip, and I have to break it to him that I’m going away.”
“I can imagine that will go down like a lead balloon.” He eyes my outfit, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Right.” I chuckle.
“You going in? He isn’t busy. Well, he pretends he is, but he isn’t.”
“Yeah,” I let out a nervous rush of air. “I’m going in.”
“Don’t stress it. You got this.”
“Thank you, George.” I throw him a grateful smile over my shoulder as I walk the short distance and push through and into Mason’s office.
He sits behind the large desk, his thick, full shoulders momentarily stealing my focus. His jaw has a five o’clock shadow, and his hair is a mussed mess of perfection.
I get the image of him taking me on the kitchen counter only hours ago.
The man is a god.
He looks up when he hears the door, a carnal smile pulling at his lips. How am I supposed to leave him for a week? I already miss him, and I haven’t even left yet.
“Hey.” I smile, fiddling with my bag.
“Come here, angel,” he demands.
I go to him, stepping between his legs when he rolls his chair back to make room for me.
“This is a nice surprise.” His hands find the back of my thighs, gently moving up to smooth over my behind.
“I have something I need to tell you.”
“Mmmm, and what’s that?” He kisses the small slither of skin that’s exposed between my skirt and top.
“I’m going on holiday, with the girls—tonight.” I cringe, waiting for his tantrum.
“You want to go away?”