"Maybe it's a test," she said. "You know, to see if you'll fib."
Knowing Mason, I could almost see it. "Ormaybehe's just spreading the misery."
Arden gave a solemn nod. "Well, that's Mason for ya."
It was just past noon, and Arden had invited me over for lunch and coffee while Brody went into the office. Through the windows of the living room, I could see the endless waters of the Saginaw Bay shimmering in the afternoon sun.
The view of the water made me think of Mason's back patio, where we'd gotten into that heated discussion. I still wasn't quite sure how our conversation had gone so far off-track, but the whole thing had left me feeling confused and unsettled.
But hey, what else was new?
The truth was, I'd been feeling unsettled ever since Mason had walked into that club in Petoskey and turned my life upside-down.
"So," Arden said, "did you write it?"
"The report?" I rolled my eyes. "Yes. But only because I didn't have a choice. I mean, it's not like it was optional or anything."
"Are you sure?" she said. "Let's say you didn't do it. Do you think he'd fire you?"
I gave it some thought. "I don't know, but Idothink he'd make me miserable."
"So are you?" she said. "Miserable, I mean?"
I sighed. "Well he's making me crazy. Does that count?"
It had been less than a day since Mason had demanded the report. And although he hadn't given me an official deadline, I'd gotten the distinct impression that if I didn't have it done by the time he got home tonight, hewouldn'tbe pleased.
Then again, it's not like he'd be pleased anyway. Now that I thought about it, he was looking less pleased with every passing day.
Last night, after our tense conversation on the patio, all three of us – meaning me and Willow, plus Mason – had eaten dinner together like we usually did whenever Mason was home.
In spite of the lingering tension, dinner had been surprisingly uneventful, with Willow doing most of the talking.
It was a good thing, too, because I'd been far too distracted to say anything intelligent. And forget making a decent dinner.
But at leastthatpart was taken care of. AllI'dhad to do was pop the pre-made casserole into the oven and, after we'd finished eating, stack the dishes in the sink.
Sometime today – probably right now, in fact – Mason's daily housekeeper would do the rest of the cleanup while I visited with my friend.
The whole arrangement was entirely surreal, and I was still trying to get used to it.
During my first few weeks, I'd kept trying to clean up the dinner messes like I would at my own place, only to give up the habit entirely when the housekeeper worried out loud that she'd be out of work if I kept doingherjob on top of my own.
I saw what she meant, but it still made me feel like a slug. After all,myonly job was to watch out for Willow, and it hardly felt like a job at all.
All in all, I had nothing to complain about.
And I tried not to. But the truth was, Mason reallywasmaking me crazy.
As my thoughts churned, I looked to Arden and said, "Hey, can I ask you something? Do you think Mason'severbeen happy?"
"Withhischildhood?" she said. "I doubt it."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the way I hear it, Masonreallygot the short end of the stick."
"How so?"
