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I dip my chin, not ready to concede her point. I want to believe in the fairy tale version of Nathan West, the one where he’s good instead of bitter and if I make a snap judgment I’ll miss out on a wonderful connection.

“Learn from my mistakes, Meens,” Mom says with a look that says she knows what I’m thinking. “Life is harsh enough without letting harsh people in. I knew from the get-go that your dad was wrong for me, but I saw this glimmer of goodness in him and focused on that instead of who he really was. Your client? He’s not worth your energy. You give him the time he pays you for and nothing more. Like I said, he’s a means to an end. That’s all.”

“A paycheck,” I reply, hefting my melting green mug.

The most important paycheck I’ve ever earned.

SEVEN

Mina

The sun is bright. My coffee is just the way I like it, warm and creamy and sweet. The sky is blue, Mom’s getting better, and Benjamin Bancroft doesn’t think I want to bite his ass, thanks to Nathan West and his meanspirited, expensive text. All that alone would add up to a wonderful Friday, but there’s a bonus on my schedule that makes this a fantastic intro to the weekend.

“Miss Blake?” Tad, my too hot to be real assistant, pops his head into my office. “Mason Channing is here to go over the plans for the custom bookshelves on the Maharishi project.” The twinkle in Tad’s eyes as he leans against the doorframe says this meeting is the bonus in his schedule too.

Not only is Mason Channing dark-haired and dark-eyed, with muscley arms and strong hands, but he’s smart and funny and one of the most talented carpenters I’ve collaborated with, eclipsed only by his father, Joe. Together, they run Channing Construction and I’ve had the pleasure of working with both father and son on multiple projects.

Mason doesn’t flirt and neither do I. Not really. Or, not seriously. He’s just so good looking and so funny that sitting in the same room with him for twenty minutes is enough to make me smile for the next hour. He’s one of those people who feel like sunshine—the complete opposite of Nathan West, Prince of Darkness. A man who grunts and growls and builds a villain’s lair on a secluded cove just because he can.

Sixty percent off my fee just to send one little text! And that’s after negotiating! What happened to him?

I smooth my hair and check my breath, cross, then uncross my legs before I settle on leaning my elbows on my desk and perching my chin in my hands. “Thank you, Tad. Please send Mr. Channing in.”

“Wilhelmina! How’s my favorite interior designer?” Mason steps into my office with a broad smile and a gleam in his eyes.

I stand and extend a hand, almost giddy as his firm grip envelops mine. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m just plain Mina.”

“About as many times as I have to tell you there’s nothing plain about you.” He pulls out a chair and takes a seat before proposing some changes on the custom-built wall bookcase Rajesh Maharishi wants added to his home office. The meeting is fast and fun, and the changes Mason introduces are smart as well as economical. As suspected, it’s the feather in the cap of my already fabulous morning.

“Oh, hey!” Mason pauses as he stands from his chair. “I heard you’re working with Nathan West on his new house.”

“Don’t get too excited for me,” I say, assuming he’s about to congratulate me on my good fortune. “I was so excited when I got the offer, I wanted to throw a party for whoever recommended me to him. But then I had my first meeting with Mr. Nathan West and, well—” I lean forward conspiratorially “—he’s kind of an asshole.”

Mason grimaces. “He’s also kind of my cousin.”

Dear God. Please remind me to stop shoving my foot in my mouth. Sincerely, Mina Blake.

“I’m sorry, he’s your what now?” I ask, then bask in the glow of my eloquence.

“My cousin. I’m the one who recommended you to Nathan and I totally expect that party in my honor,” Mason says with his characteristic smile.

Of course they’re related. I mean, not of course. I can’t think of anyone who would connect those dots on their own, but of course I insulted Mason’s family to his face.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I blubber. “I’m really thankful for the opportunity. He’s just… Um…Nathan’s…”

Say something nice, Mina. Anything at all will do!

“The exposure is going to be wonderful and the site is simply beautiful and I’m so excited to work with a legend like Benjamin Bancroft let alone someone as famous as Nathan West and…” I run out of platitudes and move in with the truth. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you’re cousins? You’re nothing alike.”

Mason makes a face I can’t quite read, one that might mean he agrees with me. Or…he may never want to work with me again.

“Nathan and I have more in common than you might think.”

“Really?” I ask before realizing I might want to stick my foot back in my mouth to stop myself from talking.

“He’s going through a bit of a rough patch, and has been a little, I don’t know…” Mason chews on his word choice.

I have several I’d like to suggest. Horrible. Rude. Stuck up. Self-centered. Judgmental. Just off the top of my head.

“…withdrawn,” Mason finally says. “But I didn’t think he had it in him to be grumpy with someone as nice as you or I would have warned you before you accepted the project. I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Oh, God no.” That’s the last thing I need. “Please don’t. I’m sure we just got off on the wrong foot.”

Probably the one I keep shoving into my mouth.

“Well,” Mason says, bracing his hands on his thighs to stand. “You let me know if you change your mind. I’m happy to slap some sense into him.”

We say our goodbyes and I lean in the doorway to watch him make his way through the office toward the front door, basking in the afterglow of his warmth and hoping I didn’t offend him enough to ruin the relationship.

“They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” Tad says, eyeing Mason’s exit from his desk.

“They really don’t.” I throw back the last of my coffee and frown. I never drink the last swallow. It’s always a bitter disappointment.

Speaking of bitter disappointments…

“I have an hour before the meeting with Mr. West, correct?”

Tad’s face falls and he swivels back to stare at his computer screen, looking like he swallowed a fly.

Are sens

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