Wait. Was she actually considering saying yes?
A posh dinnerwouldbe nice. What was it like to go to the hottest restaurant and hottest club? Places Gemma would never see on her own.
“Okay,” she said finally, pushing the word out before she lost her nerve.
He grinned. “Excellent. You won’t regret this. It’ll beperfect. I know what I’m doing.”
“Because you’re Mason Moretti.”
His grin widened. “I am.”
MASON
Mason was pleased with himself. Very pleased. Okay, he could hear Jesse saying that being pleased with himself was hardly a new experience for Mason, and yeah, maybe he was being a little smug about the whole thing, but he knew his strengths, and planning dates was one of them.
The trick to a successful date? Have a lot of fucking money.
Fine, that wasn’t a trick so much as an inside advantage. Some might call it anunfairadvantage, but Mason had earned every penny.
Mason hadn’t dated in high school. He’d been too busy with hockey, and his sports psychologist had warned against him getting too involved with a girl. Which did not mean he’d graduateda virgin, just that all his experience came from hookups that had never required actual dating.
After he got drafted into the Growlers, he’d dived eagerly into the experience of dating. He’d take women to the movies. To a quiet dinner. Out for a picnic. Rent a canoe and paddle down the river. Stuff that seemed romantic to him. The women had disagreed. Strongly disagreed.
That’s when Mason discovered the secret ingredient to a perfect date. Money.
Dial it up to eleven and treat them like a princess. Take them to thebestrestaurants and clubs. Send them a whole whack of gift cards. Dress shop. Lingerie shop. Salon. Spa. Give them an experience.
He pulled up his contact list and started a text to his date-planning service. Because of course he used a service. That was just efficient.
Mason:I need the standard package for a lady friend
Mason:Skip dinner reservations. I’ve got it covered. Maize at eight
Mason:Oh, and skip the lingerie gift card too
He stared at that last one, his finger over the Send button. Maybe…? Just as a little something extra. A thoughtful gift. Not that he was expecting toseewhatever she bought with it.
No, Gemma would think it meant he expected to see it, and there would be no date. Possibly also a string of furious profanity and a warning of what she’d do if he ever contacted her again.
He edited that last line, just to make it clearer.
Mason:NO lingerie gift card
He popped off Gemma’s contact info and eased back in his chair with a smile.
There. A job well done.
GEMMA
Gemma sat staring down at the fistful of gift cards fanned out like a poker hand. A card for a dress shop and four from the same spa complex, for hair, a facial, a manicure, and… a massage?
Okay, the massage was tempting. She might keep that one. But otherwise?
What the hell was this? Did Mason expect her prom-ready for their date?
Therewouldbe cameras. Sheshouldspend a little extra time on her appearance.
And she would, but she could do it without all this. She’d been to the salon and gotten a manicure just last week in preparation for the morning-show interview.
