12. Mason
Chapter twelve
My chair creaks as I lean back, trying to spy on Callie where she sits, laughing with Tara from the marketing team.
It’s gotten worse. Over the last week, no matter how hard I try to convince myself I can forget about Callie, can push her behind a line where she’s nothing more than my assistant, my brain just keeps noticing all these little things about her that intrigue me.
“Mason?”
I jump in my seat, springing back into the proper upright position when her voice comes through the phone’s speaker. My arm knocks my drink bottle, spilling water over my lap and stomach as I fumble for the intercom button.
“Ah… Y-yeah, Callie?” I stand, pulling my sopping wet shirt away from my stomach.
“Your realtor is on line one.”
I look up, and Tara’s gone.
How long was I lost in my thoughts of her?
“Thanks, I’ll grab it now.” I pick up the handset, hitting the flashing button. “Hey, Carmen.”
“Hi, Mason. Would you happen to be free at the moment? I just got the scoop on a very exclusive place. It won’t be going on the market for another few weeks cos the family needs to clear it out first, but I was able to swindle an early viewing. Interested?”
I check my watch, noting it’s almost lunchtime, then bring up my calendar on my computer. “I don’t have anywhere to be until after two. Is the place far?”
“It’s in Old Wandering.” That’s about a half-hour drive from the office, not exactly the ideal location, but I guess I haven’t found anything in the places I have been looking.
“Okay, sounds good. Send me the address, and I’ll head there now.”
“You got it. See you soon.”
I end the call, then walk over to the coat closet in the back corner of my office to grab a dry shirt.
I’ve got the wet one pulled halfway up my back when there’s a swift knock on the already open door.
I spin around, my head coming free just as I’m met with Callie, frozen in the doorway, mouth agape with a handful of paperwork.
“I-I—” Her hand comes to her neck as she clears her throat, eyes still fixed on my bare torso. “I have the latest ab report—AD! Ad report.”
I roll my lips together, hiding how much it pleases me that I’ve clearly set her off kilter with the sight of my bare chest and, yes, my abs.
I pull my shirt the rest of the way off and toss it in a hamper in the closet before walking towards her, flexing my stomach for good measure. “Thanks, Callie.”
Accepting the folder, I drop it onto my desk, then pull on a fresh shirt. “I’m popping out for a bit. My realtor has a place for me to look at.”
“Ah, yep. No worries.” Callie looks down at her feet. She’s wearing crisp white high-top sneakers and tight, blue jeans with a company polo shirt. It’s a cute look on her. I like how she doesn’t dress to impress anyone, but somehow, she’s still the most beautiful person in the room. Shit.
I push away distracting thoughts of my assistant and grab my phone and car keys from my desk.
When I head back to the door, Callie’s still standing there, looking at her feet with a blush on her cheeks. She’s got her glasses on again, but they’ve slipped slightly down the bridge of her nose.
I lean my head down, carefully placing a finger on the centre of her glasses, and push them up. Her eyes move up with my finger until they lock on mine. “Did you need anything else?”
She gasps, shaking her head, then spins on her heel and almost runs back to her desk.
“I should be back before two,” I say as I pass her.
“Okay.” She nods. “Good luck.”
I’m almost out of the room when I pause, thinking back to what Beth said last week.
I slowly spin on my heel. “Do you want to join me?”
Her dark blue eyes fly to mine.
I wish I knew the thoughts passing through her mind. It feels as though time has stopped before she eventually says okay.
Maybe it’s not the best idea to spend more time alone with Callie, to bring her further into my world, particularly where it dips into my personal life. But like Beth said, no one else has managed to help me find what I’m looking for.
***
“Thanks again for my drink,” Callie says as we draw closer to the address on the GPS.
“Thanks for coming with me.” I take a sip of the iced chocolate I ordered for myself.
I’m actually not into fancy café drinks.
If I have sugar too late in the afternoon, I can’t sleep, but when we passed the coffee shop coming out of the office, Callie mentioned how it’s become her favourite place to stop.
I didn’t hesitate before pulling into the drive-thru lane, demanding to know her order.
I’m meeting Tristan for our weekly tennis game tonight, so that should help expel any leftover energy from the drink. Probably should have asked for one pump of hazelnut syrup instead of two.
“So you’ve been looking for a house for a while?”
I nod, taking the next turn as the map says. “Yeah, almost a year.”
“Are you looking for something in particular?”
“I don’t even know anymore,” I say with a breathy chuckle.
Callie turns in her seat so she’s facing me. “What are some of the reasons you didn’t like other ones you’ve seen?”
“They didn’t feel like… home.”
“And what does home feel like?”
Family. Laughter. Like the comfort of an old movie, or your favourite song on repeat.
“One of my favourite places is my grandparents’ house,” I say instead, turning onto a gravel driveway.
Old trees are scattered around us, with carefully placed garden beds filled with purple, pink, and white flowers, and a big house just visible in the distance.
“It’s where our family gathers every week, and no matter where you sit—the kitchen, the dining room, the backyard—they’re all filled with so many good memories.
So many good feelings. I want a space that feels like it’s going to be the start of more times like that.
I dunno. That’s the only way I can describe it. ”
I can’t think of any word that properly encompasses the feeling of what I’m trying to find and recreate for myself.
“I know what you mean.”
My heart slams against my chest with her words. “You do?”
“It’s like coming home after you’ve been on a long holiday, or like nostalgia. Everything just makes sense, like you can breathe easier. A comfort that you can’t quite put into words, but you can feel it.”
I come to the end of the drive, bringing the car to a stop beside Carmen’s silver Audi, before I sit and stare at Callie.
“Yes.” The word feels ripped from my bones. “That’s exactly it.”
She takes a sip from her green drink, which looks disgusting, but didn’t sound so bad when she ordered it. Iced strawberry matcha with coconut cold foam. I kept the receipt when the cashier gave it to me, so I had it written down, just in case.
I hurry out of my seat, rounding the front so I can get her door. Callie’s already got one foot on the side step as she balances her phone and drink in one hand and grips the overhead handle with the other.
I normally help Beth out of my car, who, even with five-inch heels, struggles. Callie’s got no hope of getting out without jumping, and I won’t risk her breaking an ankle.
She adjusts her position as she tries to get out, growing flustered that she’s taking her time, but I’ll happily wait. Sighing, she places her drink and phone on the dash so she has two hands to hoist herself out.
Without thinking, I wrap an arm low around her back and tug her into me as I pull her from the car.
She gasps, hands gripping my shoulders as I spin us round. I don’t intend to linger, but the feeling of her body pressed against mine has me suspended in time. Her eyes are locked on mine, and the scent of caramel and sweet berries surrounds me.
“You’re here!” Carmen shouts from somewhere beside us, shattering whatever spell we’d been caught in.
Clearing my throat, I lower Callie to her feet, my cheeks hot as I reach back into the car, handing over her drink and phone.
“Thanks,” she says in barely a whisper as she avoids looking directly at me.
I close her door and make my way up to the house. When Callie slowly dawdles behind me, I press a hand to the small of her back, urging her forward.
“You can’t help from back there.”
It’s all well and good to tell myself to act like a professional, but it’s hard to keep that rule in place when my heart is battling for dominance.
I’ve always been a flirt and easy with affection, but it’s all for fun.
Often, I’m playing off whoever’s on the receiving end.
Callie doesn’t fuss over me like other women, but there’s still this undeniable pull to her that I want to understand.
The more I think about Beth’s claim that it’s my ego’s inability to handle rejection, the harder I protest. It’s not as simple as that.
It’s something inherently Callie. It’s her assertive kindness.
Her beaming smile and deep blue eyes. The go-getter attitude she exudes. She’s magnetic.
I shove my hand in my pocket so it can’t get me in trouble, and we walk side by side to the front of a house that looks like the set of a movie where the plot is… a lot of people die.
“Carmen?” I drag out each syllable, lacing it with trepidation.
“I know what you’re thinking!” she says, standing on the raggedy porch that feels a mild breeze away from crumbling.
“I really don’t think you do.” Callie and I come to a stop at the base of the short staircase.
“Okay, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but do you know what you should be thinking?” She places her hands against the balustrade, quickly snatching them back with a grimace.
“Should we call an exterminator or skip straight to a demolition crew?”
Callie chuckles under her breath, and it makes my stomach do a little somersault.
Carmen raises a single unimpressed eyebrow. “That you haven’t liked a single home I’ve shown you in ten months, and it’s time to broaden your horizons.”
She makes her way down the stairs, wobbling slightly on the last one, but lifts her chin higher as if we didn’t all hear the slight squeal she let out, and walks straight up to Callie.
“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Carmen Perez.”
Callie accepts Carmen’s handshake. “Callie Moore. I’m Mason’s assistant.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Callie.” Carmen heads back up the stairs, wobbling again on the first one. “Maybe you can be the one to help him find what he’s looking for.”