“It’ll all still be there tomorrow,” I muse aloud, the sound of my stomach rumbling making us both chuckle.
“You do need to eat a lot, don’t you?” she asks me, and I raise my brows in agreement.
“I do, I like to eat and there’s a lot of me to feed.”
“We could order in,” she says, and I know she’s half-serious, half-teasing me again.
“What do you really want to do?” I ask her, deciding I actually don’t mind either way.
I could lie with her on top of me forever at this point.
“As long as it’s with you,” she starts, and I realize one of us is gonna have to make a decision, or else we will be in bed all day.
“Do you wanna stay here? I mean, do you want to keep living here?” I ask her, changing the subject suddenly but suddenly not able to picture life at home without her there from now on.
“Give me some time, Mason… about that anyway. A lot’s changed in just twenty-four hours,” she says thoughtfully, and I have to agree, even though in my own mind it’s pretty simple.
“Sorry, must be low blood sugar, making me insecure,” I joke, knowing there’s no way we could raise a family in a one bedroom apartment like this.
I’d like to tell her that, but when I look at her, I can tell she’s already thinking the same thing.
“C’mon then,” I suggest. “Let’s get outta here, grab a bite, and do some shopping.”
Her eyes widen in a question.
“You’re gonna need some fancy clothes if you’re sitting in on that meeting tomorrow with me. Those guys are brutal. Gotta dress to kill.”
She looks startled, then worried.
“I’m not going anywhere without you, Jules. It’s you and me now, remember?” I inform her, pecking her lips, which she turns into a proper kiss, grabbing my hair and holding me tight. Threatening to take up the rest of the day doing what I know I want to.
We’re in no hurry, and by the middle of the afternoon, we head back to my car, my idea to make for my favorite shopping district.
Hoping they have jeans.
There’s a message waiting in the car, from my phone service. That direct line that’s supposed to be for emergencies only…
“I gotta check this,” I tell Jules, who doesn’t mind at all, but I do. Today is supposed to be all about her, but I only get direct line calls when shit’s hitting a fan somewhere.
It’s Fitch from legal and finance. I figure he wants confirmation on the email requests I asked Nicholas to forward him about the development deal.
He doesn’t mention it, but he does mention a huge sell-off of shares from the company in charge of the development though. It just went bust after dropping to less than a cent per share… the ones that are left that is.
Mine.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jules
I’m no genius, but when I hear the message playing in Mason’s car, I know it’s not good news.
He doesn’t look too surprised though, and I’m not sure what it actually means.
“We can…” I start, but he smiles, shaking his head.
“No. Today is our day. I told you that, plus we really do need some kickass clothes for that meeting now,” he muses, half to himself.
I decide to zip it and let Mason do what he has to do, but I’m still not sure what I can do to help with this development or even the charity for that matter.
He makes one call while driving, to Nicholas, his PA who doesn’t answer.
Mason goes quiet after that until we hit the main strip of the downtown shopping district.
I’ve only ever seen this end of town from the bus, all the high end fashion house stores. Places I could never afford to even look in the windows.
Mason perks up once we pull up to what he tells me is his favorite place for just about everything.
“They do all my suit and watches, they have a jeweler right inside,” he says excitedly, adding, “They do women’s stuff too.”
“Aren’t you worried?” I ask him, wondering if he should be spending any money if one of his companies just went broke.
“The only thing I’m worried about is if they still have any food left,” he says, winking at me.
“Food?” I protest, thinking he might not have heard me properly.
“Yeah,” he says eagerly. “They almost always have something going.”
I feel a moment of complete hesitation. I’m wearing sweat pants and track shoes, I can’t walk into a high end boutique store…
“Its fine, Jules,” Mason says, putting his hand on my arm.
“I practically keep them in business, my watches, it’s a thing I have,” he says bashfully glancing at his wrist, but it doesn’t do much for my anxiety.
How can a boutique have food anyway?
Mason parks right out front, and to my surprise, we’re greeted by two uniformed doormen who open each side of the car and welcome Mason as if they’ve spent all day waiting for him.
The outside of the building is almost blink and miss it, with the huge brass doors being the only give away that there’s even anything inside.
Once inside though, I literally need Mason to hold me up by my arm. Craning my neck I almost topple over, looking up.
“It’s beautiful!” is all I can say.
At least three floors of glittering glass and marble staircases, each with a stylish, modern theme for men’s, ladies, and general fashion.
I think. I’m no fashionista, but the whole place reeks of class, style… and money. Lots of money.
There’s a jeweler, just as Mason said, with an armed guard tipping his hat to Mason when he sees him. But best of all, there’s the smell of fresh roasted coffee, bread, bacon, cookies, and everything else that just smells like home.
Not my home, but what I wish my house did smell like… if I even baked or cooked.
“Mr. Mason!” A warm, deep voice calls out.
An
