Perv (25 page)

Surely whatever her issues were, they weren’t nearly as large as she believed. Nobody’s problems were that big.

“Drink, Mr. Simmons?” Patrick headed behind the bar and proceeded to pour himself several fingers of what appeared to be an expensive scotch.

Mason shook his head. “No, sir. Thank you.” No way was he going to drink alcohol and lower his ability to read people this evening.

“Are you an alcoholic, Mr. Simmons?” Patrick eyeballed Mason over his glass as he took a long swig of the brown liquid.

Mason almost choked. “No, sir.”

Patrick circled the bar and took a seat in a leather arm chair, nodding to a matching chair on the other side of a small round mahogany table that probably cost more than all the furniture in Mason’s entire home.

Instead of taking the offered seat, Mason rounded the chair with Jenna in tow and pressed her forward.

She gasped as she glanced back at him, but he raised an eyebrow, hoping she would realize he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She could either take the seat or argue with him, but he would win. He gambled she wouldn’t want to make a scene.

No way was Mason going to sit in the open chair and leave Jenna standing. It would be rude. There were many other seats in the room, but none were close enough to engage in conversation with her father. Mason suspected Jenna was in far more need of a chat with Dad than Mason himself.

Patrick lifted an eyebrow as Mason stood behind Jenna. She settled herself in the chair and crossed her legs. She didn’t look her father in the eye, but it was a start.

“What do you do, Mason?”

“He’s an accountant, Dad.” It was the first time Jenna spoke, and she did so quickly enough that Mason recognized her desire to paint Mason in her own way.

At that moment a young lady waltzed into the room, saving them from more benign conversation. “Well hello there, sister. And who have we here?” The waif-like woman was nothing like Jenna. She was taller, blonde, and her huge blue eyes blinked as she spoke, her gaze directed at Mason.

Mason cleared his throat and introduced himself. “Mason Simmons, ma’am. I’ve been dating your sister.”

The woman smiled as though the idea were preposterous. She winked at him when Jenna wasn’t looking. “I’m Jean. Has anyone given you a tour? I’d be glad to while my sister speaks with Father.”

Mason couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman. He would no sooner follow her from the room than he would cut his right arm off. She acted like a child instead of a grown adult.

Jenna gasped.

Mason squeezed her shoulder where he’d rested his hand when she’d taken a seat. “No, thank you. I’m sure I’ll have ample opportunity at another time.”

On the heels of this conversation, Joann sauntered into the room. She wore an evening gown as though they were going to a ball instead of enjoying Sunday dinner together. The smile she plastered on her face was fake, and she had a twinkle in her eye that led Mason to believe she’d won some sort of battle, or at least round one.

“Jenna. So glad you could find time to join us this evening.” She lifted her gaze to Mason. “I know nothing about you, young man, but I like you simply for being able to accomplish what none of us has been able to achieve for two years.”

Two years? Holy shit
. This was worse than he thought. Who were these people?

Jenna stiffened under his hand.

“Shall we move to the dining room? Dinner is ready.” Joann turned and fled as quickly as she’d entered, clearly expecting everyone to jump and follow, which they did.

All but Mason and Jenna, at least. Jenna seemed rooted to the seat. She heaved for a breath as the others shuffled from the room.

Mason wanted to make the most of the situation. Whatever had everyone’s panties in a wad couldn’t be all that bad. Mason kneeled beside Jenna and looked her in the eye. “You okay?” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “It’s just dinner.”

She raised her gaze and narrowed it on him, her chest rising with each breath. “There’s no such thing as ‘just dinner’ with my family.” She rose and took his hand to lead him from the room.

When they reached the dining room, Mason tried not to react outwardly to the opulence. The table was set as though the Queen of England were a guest tonight. Mason glanced around and quickly surmised no one was in attendance but the four family members and himself. Seemed overboard. What on earth kind of money did these people have? And why hadn’t Jenna mentioned it to him before now?

Jenna’s mother directed everyone where to sit, and Mason was somewhat surprised to find he’d been granted a chair next to Jenna. Her mother was controlling. She could have seated him in some servants’ quarters and not batted an eye.

No one seemed interested in Mason. He’d been prepared for the third degree, figuring he would be answering hundreds of questions about himself and their relationship. Instead, Joann’s attention was directed solely at Jenna as though Mason weren’t in the room.

As a servant entered, complete with stereotypical black-and-white clothing, Joann set her sights on Jenna. “Are you done playing shop yet, dear?”

Mason stiffened.
Playing shop?
Was she referring to Ribbons and Bows?

“No, Mother. I’m not playing anything. This is my life. I work for a living. I own Ribbons and Bows. And it’s doing very well, thank you for asking.”

The woman most assuredly hadn’t asked anything of the sort. Mason fisted his hands under the table, hoping he was misreading this situation, while trying to keep his face neutral.

The silent woman in black and white set a plate of salad in front of each person at the table, cautiously ensuring she didn’t make a noise and wasn’t disruptive. Mason watched her for a moment, wondering if she endured the same sternness on a daily basis Jenna was experiencing now.

Joann reached for her glass and handed it to her husband, who filled it with chardonnay.

The woman took a drink and then set the glass down. “We need you home by the holidays, dear. That gives you less than a month to continue this farce. Am I clear?”

Jenna didn’t raise her voice, hesitate, or in any way flinch. “You’re always clear, Mother, but I’m not coming home.”

“Young lady, enough is enough. We have covered for your absence for two years. Our friends and relatives are growing suspicious of your disappearance. You
will
be home by Christmas.”

“Mother, if this is the only reason you’ve asked me to come for Sunday dinner, then Mason and I will leave now. If you’d like to enjoy my company and engage in any other conversation, I’ll be happy to oblige. However, I won’t sit here for three hours of a six course meal and argue with you about how I lead my life.”

Mason sat stunned. He was at once sad for Jenna’s situation and proud of the way she stood up for herself. He knew nothing about what her issues were, but it didn’t seem her mother was a woman to be reasoned with.

“Don’t speak to your mother that way, young lady.” Those were Patrick’s first words since they’d entered the dining room.

Jenna rolled her eyes in his direction. “You too, Dad? Can’t anyone in this family be reasonable for once? I’m not interested in the family business. I have a degree. I have a job. I’m making it on my own. I’m not returning home for any reason.”

“Jenna.” Mason squeezed her thigh with one hand. He had no idea what to follow up with, but he was torn about the impending argument about to erupt.

Jenna swiveled on him and slapped his hand away. “Don’t Jenna me.” She stood, tossed her napkin on the table, and stepped back.

Mason sat shocked. Frozen.

Joann set her fork down with a clank. “Sit down. I’m not done talking to you.”

Jenna set her hands on her hips. “Don’t you mean talking
at
me, Mother? No, I’m not moving back here. No, I’m not marrying some creeper named Charles to make you happy. And no, I’m not going to spend my life crocheting doilies to make you look extra wealthy. You can either accept that or let me go.”

Patrick stood now. “Sit down. Let’s be reasonable.”

“Reasonable? Okay, let’s. I’m a grown woman. Reasonable would be if you treated me as such and stopped harassing me to fit your preconceived mold.” Jenna pointed at her sister, who hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time and in fact was quietly eating her salad as though nothing untoward was occurring around her. “Clearly if you’re looking for a puppet, Jean is perfectly happy to fit the bill. You don’t need me.”

“That’s not true, Jenna, and you know it.” Patrick leaned on the table as he spoke. “Your mother gave birth to you, and that makes you an heir to the family business you cannot deny.”

“Only because you’re embarrassed for your friends and family to find out your oldest isn’t interested in the family business.” Jenna’s face turned pink, and her words weren’t as steady as they’d been in the beginning.

“One month, Jenna.” Joann picked up her fork and stabbed into a hunk of lettuce. She didn’t lift her gaze to her wayward daughter. “You’ll be here by Christmas or suffer the consequences. I’m done tiptoeing around you.”

Jenna turned toward Mason. “I’m leaving. If you want to stay with these hoity people, be my guest.”

Mason stood, his chair scuffing the hardwood floor loudly as he jumped to his feet. “Let’s
all
be reasonable here. I don’t know what you all have fought about in the past, but you’re family. You need to reconcile and let bygones be bygones. If you don’t, you will regret it sooner or later.”

Jenna’s face flamed, and she pursed her lips before she spoke again. “You’re right. You have no idea what you’ve stepped into. I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess, but I won’t be treated like a child, and I won’t be told what to do with my life. Not by my parents and not by you, either. Stay. Enjoy dinner. My dad has always wished I were a boy. Maybe you could move in and fill the role as son extraordinaire.”

Jenna turned toward the door so fast her hair flared out around her. She stomped from the room with her head high, although he’d seen the glossy look of tears in her eyes at the last second.

Mason turned toward her parents. “Pardon me.” He stepped away from the table and headed to the doorway. As the front door slammed shut, he turned back to Jenna’s family. “She’s right. I have no idea what argument you four are in the middle of, but I do know how important family is, and I hope you can find it in your hearts to reach out to each other and work things out before you lose your daughter entirely. I hate to see you all fighting. She’s a fantastic woman, and she’s hurting. I’m sure you can see that.”

Joann gave a single chuckle. “Jenna is a spoiled brat.”

Mason was taken aback. The woman he’d grown to love was anything but spoiled.

“She needs to get her head out of her ass and move back home.”

Mason swallowed, hoping his voice would stay strong. “Is it so wrong of her to want to make it on her own?”

“Yes. It’s absurd. She’s a Mathews. She’s making a fool out of us.”

“By running a flower shop? You’ve been to her shop. It’s fantastic. She’s got a good business going.”

“She doesn’t need a business. She needs to give up that farce and get her ass back on Mathews’ territory. She’s played around long enough, and we’ve made all the excuses we can to everyone we know, including her fiancé.”

Her what?
Mason’s eyes shot open wide. He squeezed the doorframe until his knuckles hurt.
No way
. He couldn’t believe it. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

Joann smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “She’s engaged to a family friend. His name is Charles, and he’s perfect for her. It’s time for her to give up her little playtime and move home.”

Something seemed terribly off to Mason. Engaged? He’d heard mention of this Charles dude moments ago, but engaged? “Has this Charles asked her to marry him?”

Joann sat straighter, her mouth in a firm line. “That’s beside the point. It’s been planned for years. As a member of this family, she will follow our instructions to maintain her birthright.”

Planned? What century was this, anyway? Hell, what country? “So this engagement with Charles is arranged?”

“Or course.” Joann set both elbows on the table and pointed at him. “And if you care about her at all, you’ll warn her to get her ass in gear before Christmas. She’s making a fool out of both her and Charles. He will only wait so long. After Christmas, if she isn’t back on the right path, she will be cut off entirely. Disowned. Do you know what that means to Jenna financially? Total ruin.” She narrowed her gaze again. “Do the right thing, Martin, or whoever you are. Steer her back to the family and leave my daughter alone, or she will regret it for the rest of her life.”

Mason couldn’t believe his ears. He glanced at the stern face of Jenna’s father, who said not a word but stared at Mason as though he had the plague.

Seconds went by. Mason was so stunned he couldn’t move. It took several heartbeats for him to gather nouns and verbs. “I’ll talk to her. I can assure you of that.” He knew they would misinterpret his words, but he no longer cared. His head pounded, and his face burned with anger. How dare these people treat their daughter like some kind of commodity?

For the first time in his life, Mason realized family wasn’t everything. Not this kind of family. His chest hurt thinking of Jenna as a child in this home.

He loved that woman. He wanted to spend his life with her. Grow old with her. Have kids with her.

Never could he imagine bringing a child into this house, even to meet these grandparents. He shivered and stepped back.

“Good. Please try to talk some sense into her,” Patrick finally added. “I’m glad to see you’re smart enough to realize you aren’t the man for my daughter. She deserves more. Someone of a higher social standing.”

Mason nodded. “Yeah, she deserves better. I’ll see that she gets it.” His words were minced. He let go of the doorframe, turned, and walked out, not stopping until he’d exited the house.

He glanced down the long drive and spotted Jenna. It wasn’t as though she were going to escape quickly. He’d driven her there, and the keys were in his pocket.