Turn Over(141)

Some people say I’m calculated or cold. Some say I’m heartless and ruthless for what I do. I shrugged it off. Other people’s opinions never meant anything to me.

I’m the one who weighed the outcomes. I’m the one who saved the deal. Everything else is only collateral damage as far as I’m concerned. At the end of the day, there can only be one winner. And that winner, better be me.

The contract sat on the table. I reached for the pen. She wouldn’t forgive me, but she knew what she was getting into when we started this.

There was only one way this was going to go from the beginning.





22





Sydney





Mason had decided the drive to Dallas was going to be too long. I didn’t argue. Eight hours one-way in the car wasn’t how I wanted to spend the day with him. Although, I was on his payroll now. He decided how I worked. We boarded a plane in Brownsville for a quick flight to Dallas Thursday morning.

I watched the brown fields whiz past us as we glided through the air.

“You know this is my first trip to Dallas,” I mentioned.

Mason’s head was buried in his tablet. I bit back the nausea when I saw he was reading the News & Record. He still had to get his news somewhere.

“It’s going to be a quick trip,” he mumbled. “We fly back tonight.”

I scrunched my nose. He was preoccupied. That seemed to be his condition during the workday. I couldn’t complain at night though. His focus was solely on me.

“Why so short?” I asked.

He turned the tablet off and took my hand. “I need to show my face. That’s important sometimes.” He smiled. “You can meet everyone. I have to pick up a few things at my apartment.”

“Like what? More white shirts?”

He scowled. “White goes with everything.”

I giggled. “It does. But have you thought about branching out at all? I’ve only seen you in a blue shirt once.”

“You’re not going to be one of those girlfriends are you?” His eyes darted back and forth, studying my lips.

“Girlfriend. That’s what I am?”

“Syd.” He squeezed my hand. “What do you think this is? We moved past the casual and the fun about two days in don’t you think?”

I wondered if the passengers around us were listening to our conversation. Girlfriend. He had said it. It came out of nowhere, but now that it was here I wanted to hear the word on his lips a hundred times.

I nodded. I had bypassed casual the first time I saw him. “So my boyfriend is Mason Lachlan. I think that sounds good.”

“Too bad we’re on this plane with all these people. I would see what other sounds I could get you to make.” He slid his hand up my thigh. I gasped when his fingers ducked under my skirt.

I shook my head. “No,” I warned.

He chuckled, his hand sliding back to my knee. “God, do I want to.” He raised his eyebrows. “Private plane next time.”

He flipped the tablet back on.

I stared out the window. We’d be on the ground in Dallas in a few minutes.



Lachlan Corporation was exactly how I pictured it in my head. It was in a high-rise in downtown Dallas. Mason’s office took up the top three floors of the building. It was impressive and dominant. Not unlike its owner.

We walked next to each other through the halls. I had to remind myself this was not a place we could hold hands, no matter what Mason said about the openness of our relationship. It was hard to be so close and not be able to touch him.

The staff seemed genuinely happy to see him back in the office. It had been a few weeks since he had been in Dallas.

“And this is the boardroom.” He shoved the heavy wooden doors open. I peeked inside.

“Nice. Do you sit there?”

There was one chair at the end of the table, the rest flanked the sides.

“Yes. That’s my seat. Come on, I’ll show you my office.”

I followed him through the hallways. There were paintings and sculptures. He had spared no expense outfitting the suites.

We walked into a corner office. He closed the door when I passed over the threshold. “This is it.”

There was a sleek black desk on one end. A round conference table in the center, and a couch and chairs at the far end.

“Two flat panels?” I questioned.

“One for games. One for the business channel.”

I nodded. “Of course.” I knew he followed baseball almost as closely as the Dow Jones. I walked toward the desk. It was intimidating. Maybe it was the shiny surface and the darkness of it, but it looked powerful. I knew Mason would look powerful sitting behind it.

I was afraid to touch it. Afraid my fingerprints would show up like neon lights.

Before I could move to the chair, I felt Mason’s hands circle my waist. His mouth was on my neck, his teeth nipping behind my ear.