told himself. Given his new responsibilities and the way he was jetting back and forth across the country, the length of his dry spell wasn’t extraordinary. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t dated anyone since. There had been a few lackluster dates that hadn’t gone anywhere.
I’m just a little pickier these days. Mason was a few years younger than Ethan, but he was old enough to be unsatisfied with a quick lay. That night with Laila had taught him one thing, at least. Mason was ready for the real thing.
He gripped the steering wheel. That was it then. It was settled—once his life quieted down a bit, he was going to start dating in earnest. But he wouldn’t be aiming for casual. Not anymore.
His team had officially disbanded. A few of his people had been reassigned to other teams, but more than half would be coming back to team 2.0, which would be based out near Ashburn, the closest they could get to D.C. without blowing their budget.
Mason was due to move to the East Coast in a few months to oversee the construction of the new Auric base. In the meantime, he had thrown himself into the Boston apartment building renovation, knocking down crumbling plaster in the interior and putting up new drywall. The copper plumbing was sound for the most part as it had been replaced less than a decade ago, but there were few exceptions—shoddy patch jobs done on the cheap in more recent years. The cooling and heating systems were also getting a makeover. Mason wasn’t qualified to do that part, but he knew enough to lay the groundwork for the professionals.
During the work, he realized the building still had a tenant—a mother with a baby girl. All the other residents had moved on, but the mom was obviously in a bind, struggling to make ends meet. She was also young, with dark skin and this vulnerability in her eyes that reminded him of she-who-must-not-be-named.
Before Mason knew what was happening, he’d told the tenant she could stay for a few months while she hunted for a new place. He was recalled to L.A. before he could break the news to his oldest friend. Mason resolved to give Ethan a call to confess later—much later.
“I can’t believe we’re ahead of schedule,” Ian Quinn said, slapping Mason on the back on the way out of the conference room.
Mason had spent the last hour updating him and Elias on the progress made on the new headquarters at their downtown office, and it had gone well.
“It helped we’re just retrofitting the existing buildings for the most part, not building them from scratch,” Mason said.
“Well, I’m still determined to be impressed, so don’t burst my bubble,” Ian laughed. “And thanks for vetting the construction staff. That was above and beyond.”
Mason shrugged in self-deprecation. “I had a head start after doing all that research for the apartment renovation I’m doing with my buddy Ethan. Most companies that do large-scale residential work are experienced with the kind of changes we need at the compound. And scheduling and coordinating the work is secondhand nature by now. The Boston project got me ready.”
“I guess we’re lucky you decided to go into real estate then.” Ian laughed. “Still, it sounds like a good investment. And you’re saving us a bundle overseeing the retrofit.”
“I’m going to remind you of that come bonus time,” Mason said dryly before taking his leave.
Mason was in the mood to celebrate, but it was too early for him to meet up with Ransom or one of the other guys. At loose ends, he drove aimlessly, killing time.
Before he knew it, he was a block away from Gardullo’s Grocery.
Fuck. Mason came within a hairsbreadth of doing an illegal U-turn. His instinct was to get the hell away from here, but he changed his mind at the last second.
It wasn’t as if he’d never broken this particular rule before. After their last meeting, when Laila had understandably failed to leap into his arms, Mason vowed to stay away.
Now that they didn’t live in the same building, it was easy. They didn’t travel in the same circles.
But Mason hadn’t liked the sight of Dubey. Something about the guy rubbed him the wrong way. So, every couple of months, he would drive to Gardullo’s and park in the eye-line of the bakery counter. More often than not, Laila would appear to help a customer or put new baked goods in the display counter.
If he’d wanted to,