And Mason. Round cheeks and brassy hair in a perfect, swooping quiff and a smile just as wide as Evander’s. He stood and extended his hand across the table. “Hi. I’m Mason—”
“Oh, I know.” David extended his hand, then realized he was still holding coffee cups and set the two carriers down on the table before finally shaking Mason’s hand. His skin was soft, but the tips of his fingers were a bit harder than the rest. Not quite what David would call calluses—he’d been with a guitar player or three in his time—but Mason clearly did some kind of work that used his fingertips specifically. “I’m a big fan. Was a big fan. Well, hopefully I will be again, once the show comes out.” He sighed and withdrew his hand. “You actually worked on my aunt and uncle’s house back when you were on VideoHead. Keith and Whitney Twine.”
“Oh really?” Mason’s smile somehow widened further. “That was a fun job. They mentioned they had a nephew that would come stay with them.”
David bowed, one hand to his chest, the other flourishing to the side. “I would be the nephew.” When he straightened up, turned to the one unfamiliar face sitting at the table, a tiny, thin woman in a severe black suit that made her already pale skin look bleached. “I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”
“Eliza Kaplan.”
“Oh, Eliza. You’re the one who reached out to me.”
“Yes.” She shook his hand as well. “I’m the show’s producer. I thought it would be nice to get everyone a job closer to home,since we’re wrapping up, and when you said that they’d worked for your aunt and uncle…kismet.”
David smiled. “All right, well I didn’t know how many coffees to bring to cover everyone, so I have twelve. All oat milk, no decaf. I can run up and get more if that’s not going to cut it.”
“I think we’re okay.” Mason nodded, then cleared his throat. “I have to ask, did you like the guest room setup we did? I…you know, we lived in Pine Point forever and you don’t lookthatmuch younger than us. I can’t believe we never crossed paths.”
“Well, small towns are still towns.” David saw someone approaching with a little black pack in hand and he shrugged off his sheer, magenta shawl, then spread his arms. “Wire me up however you need, good sir. I don’t have a boyfriend, so no jealous hubby to hunt you down for manhandling me.” He sighed. “Unfortunately. For me, not for you.”
They attached the pack to the waistband of his slacks and fastened the mic to the neckline of his top.
“You probably don’t want to put that over-top thing back on.” Mason gestured to the shawl. “Fabric rubbing against the lav mics can wreck the sound.”
“Ah. How sad.” David sat down, resting the shawl across his lap instead and flexing his biceps as best he could. “I would have worn something a bit morechastehad I known.” Which was a lie. That shawl hid absolutely nothing, and he had plenty of tops he could wear that were neither sleeveless nor plunging.
“You can change. If you want.” Mason sat back down. “Not that you need to, of course. I mean, I think you look good. Not I think. You look…everything is here for you to be comfortable. I mean…” He massaged the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths. “Would you believe they actuallywantme to be the one doing the talking in these meetings?”
“Do you need medical attention there, bud?” Jake leaned forward, grinning at Mason. “You’re getting red in the face and your tongue doesn’t seem to work.”
Mason shook his head, but didn’t respond, instead turning to Eliza. “We can try that again, right? Don’t want to wreck the whole recording.” Then he turned his gaze to David. “Sorry. Guess I could use one of those lattes you so graciously brought down.”
He reached at exactly the same time as David reached, and it led to them almost crushing the cup between their hands. David pulled away and raised his hands in front of his chest. “You’ve got it. Don’t need me making a mess down here. Already done enough damage to my condo.”
Mason nodded and drank. “Right. I mean, I don’t know. Just…” He looked helplessly toward the camera crew at the back of the room. “Can one of you kill me, please? It’ll make big drama for the show and keep me from tripping over my own tongue.”
Chapter three
Mason
Whatintheever-lovinghell is wrong with me?Mason took a second sip of coffee—for being made at home, it was frigging good—then a third.
Heknewprecisely what was wrong with him, and it was sitting across the table from him and had made him frigging good coffee in the first place. David looked like a model, and not in the way that every generic frat boy thought he looked like a model. David was tall and willowy, but not skinny. The way his biceps flexed proved that, and Mason was more than a little obsessed with that pink shawl he’d swept in there wearing. He must have come from Keith Twine’s side of the family, so likely of Chinese descent. His hair was long and draped over his shoulders, and the cut of his neckline revealed more of his chest than was maybe socially acceptable. Mason would not spend anyof his time complaining about seeing too much of David’s skin, though.
Not in a thousand years.
Once he felt like he’d gotten himself back under control—though he didn’t miss Bunny’s pointed stare or Aras’s sharp smirk, both clearly onto him—he tried again with a nod to Vince and the camera crew. “So, tell us about the job. What exactly’s going on that made you decide it needed our touch?”
David sighed. “Well, it’s a little bit of everything. There’s a great view that I’m not taking advantage of. There’s a storage room that I literally can’t set foot in without a walking stick for my own safety. The kitchen and one of the bathrooms are unfinished.”
“Stop.” Mason held up his hand, biting back his annoyance and pasting on a big smile. “May want toleadwith the whole ‘two rooms in my house aren’t even usable rooms’ thing next time.”
David shrugged. “I order takeout and shower in the master suite. I guess it’s bad, but it’s my own damn fault.” He leaned forward. “I was one-hundred percent confident I could demo and tile both of those rooms over Labor Day weekend two years ago…and I was wrong. Plus I don’t even like the tiles I picked out anymore. Don’t knowwhatI was thinking.”
Mason was beginning to get a better idea of the real problem, but kept on prodding all the same. “Any other home renovations you undertook?”
“Tons. But don’t get the idea that I’m responsible forallof the ills up there. Just most of them. I did hire contractors to come in and redo the floors. Terrible. Also brought in a crew to redo my master bathroom and that barely functions.”
That apparentlybrokeRobinson, who snorted and leaned around so he could look David in the eye. “Okay, pause. You’reacting like there’s no real problem, but so far, both bathrooms, the kitchen, and the floors are bad?”
