Mr. President 2(184)

"Here's one plate of seared Ahi Tuna ribbons, with minted Mizuna salad and soy and toasted peanut dressing," the waiter says, placing it in front of Lorna.

"And here's one plate of basted prawns with spicy, golden pineapple, and smoked bacon," he continues, this time placing the food in front of me.#p#分页标题#e#

Our entire table smells of the Far East.

"Last, I have a side of toasted quinoa pilaf."

He places this one in the middle and then turns to Becca.

"Would you like to order anything ma'm?"

She has the menu open in front of her and is scanning their offerings. Just when I think she may not actually order anything, and it was all for show, she responds.

"Yes, I think I'll just have a salad—the Chicken Cobb, but please go light on the blue cheese … and buttermilk dressing."

"You bet. One Chicken Cobb will be out shortly ma'm," the waiter says, nodding his approval.

As soon as he leaves, and Lorna has Becca's full attention, she leans over and playfully kisses my neck and cheek. She's resting against my shoulder in what feels like an overly exaggerated way.

It feels that way because it is.

I catch a glimpse of Becca and her cheeks flush a deep pink.

Fuck. I can barely stand it.

This is killing me to go along with Lorna's games.

"This place is beautiful, isn't it Mason?" Julian asks me, turning toward me all of a sudden.

I nod, but don't say a word.

"And this is just the beginning," Lorna continues, raking the tips of her red fingernails through my hair and against my scalp. "We have quite the evening planned." She is now dragging her manicured hand across my chest.

She's trying so hard to rub all of this—her and I, and this meal, and this time together—in Becca's face, and it seems to be working.

Becca is becoming visibly upset, but she's working hard to keep her emotions in check. The waiter brings her salad and she instantly uses it as a diversion, crunching into the lettuce with her fork and scooping up some of the buttermilk dressing.

"Darling, excuse me for one moment," Lorna says, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I need to use the restroom; I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

As soon as she is out of earshot, Becca explodes.

"Are you SERIOUS? What's going on Mason? I've been texting and calling you for days! You won't answer and you aren't showing up to the office. Are you avoiding me?"

"It's complicated," I say.

"Complicated? Is that all you can say? I've been needing to talk to you and you're acting as if I don't exist."

Seeing her like this makes my stomach do somersaults. It kills me. It really does.

"This wasn't my choice," I say.

"I've heard that before," she replies. "Just answer one thing for me. Is all of this real?"

"What, exactly, are you referring to?"

"THIS! All of this … the romantic meal, all of this outward affection … you and Lorna … all of it," she says. "Are you falling for her?"

I look into her eyes. Her confusion is palpable.

I want to tell her how I really feel, how I meant what I said before; I can't stand Lorna, but none of that comes out of my mouth.

For the first time in a long time, I'm nearly speechless.

"I have to do what's best for the company, Becca," I say.

I watch as tears tug at the corners of her eyes.

I'm fucking dying inside. Literally dying.

It's like someone is holding a match to my insides, burning me slowly, and there's nothing I can do about it except to allow my heart to be set ablaze.





187





Becca


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I run out of the Four Seasons and onto Park Avenue not knowing where else to go. I just know that I need to get out.

Get out of there. Get out of that toxic situation.

I'm breathing hard. I'm panting.

My heart is racing. My eyes are seeing spots. I see stars, and not the good kind you see during sex, but the kind that makes me think I'm having a stroke.

My head is spinning and it feels like my entire stomach has fallen to the ground.

How could Mason just turn around and betray me like this?

Like it was no big deal? Like it was just a business decision.

Didn't he know that I was falling in love with him?

I mean, you noticed the signs, didn't you? When I talked about him, you could tell that I was falling in love with the guy, right?

Please tell me that I wasn't just feeling that in my head and actually driving him away or something. Please tell me that I didn't do something inadvertent to make this happen.

Wait.

Actually, no. Don't tell me anything.

I don't want to talk about that bastard for another second.

I can't believe him. That fucker!

I should have known to stay away from him from the first afternoon where I saw Mom leaving his apartment. You remember that night I tried to seduce him? Calling him Daddy? I bet he was laughing at me.