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Turn Over(103)

By:Violet Paige


“Of course.” His eyes landed on the road. “Unless you’re not up for it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I don’t have time for anything else.” I found it was getting easier to lie today.

He chuckled low in his chest. “Exactly. We’re on the same page. I knew we would be.”

“Right. Same page.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “And it will be fun.”

“The minute it’s not fun we end it, ok? There’s no reason for things to get serious and ruin this. You’re a cool girl, Syd.”

My chest pounded. I didn’t know if I was entering into a relationship or I was signing up to be his summer pen pal. In college I encountered two types of guys: the ones who used my nickname and the ones who didn’t. The ones who called me by my full name, like my last boyfriend, were the ones who took me seriously. The ones who shortened it down to one syllable were the charmers. The flirts. The ones who wanted to keep it easy.

“It’s all about having a good time.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying. This man had me twisting words and thoughts, ignoring the warnings in my head.

“Now you’re talking.” Mason laughed and the music blared. “Wait until I show you San Antonio.”

For now, I told myself. I could do this. I could be his fun girl.





11





Mason





I pulled up in front of the hotel and waited for the valet to situate our bags and park the car. A hot wind blew off the Riverwalk. San Antonio. It had been awhile since I was here. I had tried to buy one of the hotels last year, but decided I wouldn’t get the return I wanted on a resale. Good move on my part. The hotel was poorly managed and in another six months, the owners would be desperate to sell again. It would be the perfect time for me to snag it at the lowest dollar.

Sydney’s hair whipped around her face. She squinted at the sun.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Good place to get over a sore throat?”

She grinned. “I think I could make a speedy recovery here.”

“Not too speedy.” I nodded at a few of the men walking past us. “We’re not headed back to South Padre until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Right this way, Mr. Lachlan.” The bellhop waited for us next to the revolving door.

“They know who you are?” Sydney asked.

“I usually stay in the same places when I travel.”

She laughed. “And I thought you preached about being adventurous. Sounds like you are a creature of habit after all.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Just observing.” She grinned as if she had discovered one of my little secrets.

I tried to defend myself. “This is where I do a lot of business. It makes sense to stay here.”

The lobby was filled with men like me, only significantly older. They wore dark suites, some of their jackets slung on the back of barstools. This is where business deals happened. Not in an attorney’s office or in a conference room. Deals over a glass of bourbon and a strong handshake usually made it to the end.

“Are there any women here?” Sydney’s head swiveled.

“I see the only one I want to see.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She was staring at the bar. “Do you ever negotiate with women?”

“I think you and I have made a pretty good deal.” I winked, pleased we had negotiated terms we both wanted.

She wacked me on the arm. “I’m serious. Where are the women in this place?”

“I’m sure they are shopping or at the spa.”

Her mouth dropped. “That is the most sexist thing I’ve heard. I’m talking about the women who should be here in this underground business world.”

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing underground about this. This is how deals are made. It’s completely out in the open.”

“Exactly. It’s a good ole’ boys club.”

“You’ve walked through this lobby for all of thirty seconds and you’ve already determined how it works?”

Her eyes flared. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

She had me. It was a good ole’ boys club. I hadn’t thought about it much. I didn’t care whom I did business with as long as the deal was solid and would make money. I realized looking around, Sydney probably wouldn’t see it that way. She was clearly outnumbered.

I saw the cigar smoke drifting from the brandy bar. I could hear the pats on the back. The deep chuckles between men. An occasional statistic thrown out about the local quarterback. I shook my head.

“You’re not wrong.”

“As long as you see it.” She crossed her arms in frustration.

“I do now.”