Not a Reunion

Chapter 9

Thea

I'm appalled by the fact that Mason was even asking for me to go with him. Why would he think that I wanted to go? I didn't have anything to do with him, much less when I had been crying. I wanted to go back to my office, hide in the closet, and cry.

I had forgotten that my spot that I usually use for making calls and maybe having breakdowns was now occupied. I found that the used-to-be empty floor was no longer used by another company. I thought that my crying session, purely out of frustration, was going to go unheard, but of course it was heard.

And by the one person I was trying to hide from. I wanted to hide away, but instead I was still crying in front of him.

I wipe the frustrated tears away from my face, feeling myself let out a breath of exhaustion as I do so. I place a hand on my hip and look up at the guy who had disrupted me from my breakdown. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Mason has a phone by his ear, obviously trying to get in contact with someone. He presses a hand on the phone and then turns his attention to me. "Come with me; I need to talk to you."

"I'm not interested in talking to you," I tell him as another stupid tear falls down my face. Mason only looks at me for a long moment before pinching his lips together, and a second later, a thumb is pressed to the corner of my eye. He wipes at it hard, making me flinch under his touch. His eyes are on my face; there is a softness to them that causes my heart to ache in my chest from how much I missed him looking at me this way.

I look up at him from between my wet eyelashes, but Mason only says, "Follow me, Thea. I'm not asking you to; I'm demanding this of you."

He steps away from me, shuffling his feet toward the stairs. I'm placing two hands on my hips now, jutting my chin out, and saying, "And who are you to—"

He takes his hand off the phone and presses it to his ear again. "Hi, Mr. Katz speaking," he calls out, and so I take that as my cue to leave. I could leave while he was distracted, but as I go to take a step down rather than up, as I would be following him up to his office, I feel a large hand clasp around my wrist.

I gasped at the touch; the sound was low but still loud with the quiet of the hallway. Mason only looks back at me, gives me a harsh glare, and then tugs on my hand. He is pulling me toward him now, and once he starts to walk down the hall, I rip my hand out of his grip. His strong and yet warm grip was making my heartbeat uncontrollable, and my brain was confused by the new change in my physical touch.

He turns his head once my hand is away from his, and I only scowl at him but continue to follow him. He nods curtly at that before going back to talking on the phone.

"Yes, ma'am, I totally understand why you couldn't come in today," Mason is saying into the phone. There's a silence as the other person talks into the phone before Mason lets out a soft chuckle. We have gotten to a door on the far left of the hallway, so he pulls it open. While he opens the door for me to pass through, he says, "Yes. I do understand the hassle of getting a newborn to cooperate."

As I pass, I hear the woman sounding a little apologetic on the phone, something about being sorry she couldn't find a babysitter for her kids, but Mason shuts her up really quickly. Once I pass by the door, Mason walks forward, letting it close behind him before saying, "No, ma'am, don't worry. I understand; you're not at fault."

The lady on the phone must compliment him because, when I look over at his face, there is a line of red on his cheeks. He must sense that his face is getting warm because he says, "Anyway. I'm about to reroute us to a meeting on my computer. That's okay with you?"

The lady agrees with him on the phone, presumably, and so Mason walks ahead and toward his desk. Once he gets to it, he presses a key to wake up his laptop and then settles down on the chair. Placing the phone on the table, he starts to rapidly press on a few keys, and a moment later, the lady is speaking louder.