I froze in surprise when my door opened to reveal John Masterson, Jared's father and the owner of the house I was currently renting.
Not that I was paying him a dime. But there were other ways to extract value from a person, and John Masterson was the kind of person who fully understood that concept. In his mid-sixties, John seemed like more a force of nature than an actual man. Despite his age, I knew he still played tennis four times a week, and it showed in his trim figure. When combined with his salt-and-pepper hair—always perfectly slicked back—and his tasteful sense of style, it was easy to see why he always had women hanging off him at the events I went to as his date.
John had never done anything untoward to me, and I had no concern he ever would. Ours was a purely transactional relationship. He allowed me to stay in his house rent-free. In return, I accompanied him to events so that other women would leave him alone. John was single, and apparently he wanted to stay that way. Our pretend relationship allowed him to focus on his work. I didn't mind the arrangement because of what I got out of the whole endeavor.
Which was more than just the free house. The real reason I'd moved to this little Arizona town was because, despite its small size, John Masterson remained one of the most influential investors in the Southwest—and one of his specialties was textile manufacturing. If I could convince him to fund the rest of my fitness line, it would work out pretty much perfectly for me.
Still, John was a cold man. I could understand why; virtually everyone always wanted something from him, including myself. Any intelligent person would close himself off from people in such a situation. And I was certain that alienation could be lonely.
But that didn't mean I had any desire to interact with him anymore than was absolutely necessary.
We only ever communicated via phone, so as I stepped back to let him into his own house, I couldn't help wondering what he wanted.
John paused in the foyer, peering around silently before turning and giving me a polite nod.
"Lena. A pleasure to see you as always. I see you've fixed the electricity."
"Oh yes. Well, when I woke up this morning, it was working. It must have just been overloaded from last night."
John raised an eyebrow. "This morning, really? My son told me it was still out. I believe you had called an electrician?" He moved away from me and made for the kitchen, not bothering to watch as his words hit their mark.
Damn. I'd completely forgotten about his idiot son in my haste to assure him nothing was wrong with his property. I followed him into the kitchen, mentally kicking myself for my own stupidity.
"Did Jared say that? Maybe I called him before the electricity came on ..."
John waved away my lame explanation. "My son has always been ... exuberant. I can see how it could tire a person."
I had nothing tactful to say to that. We lapsed into silence, my eyes wandering around for something to discuss. They landed on the fridge. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, tea, and orange juice."
"Water would be fine, thank you."
I grabbed a bottle out of the fridge, then turned around to find him watching me, or rather, studying, as if inspecting a horse he was considering buying for any possible defects.
"You're always very polite. I do appreciate that in you."
"Thank you, sir."
"And this place is spotless. I'm not sure how you manage that with my son coming around here all the time."
That would be because I typically followed behind all of them and cleaned up every mess as the night went along. But he didn't need to know that.
"Oh, your son isn't so bad."
He smiled slightly—or it could have been a grimace. Kind of hard to tell with such an expressionless person. "I've seen my son's apartment, so I will have to add tactfulness to your many desirable qualities."
I stood there, wishing I had gotten myself a bottle of water as well, just to have something to do with my hands. John took a small swig of water and then screwed the cap back on, placing the bottle precisely in the middle of my kitchen island.
"Anyway, I'm sure you know I'm here to discuss things other than my son's sloppiness. I need you to attend a gala with me next Saturday evening. Our town desperately needs new families. Most young people have left for the cities over the last few decades. Spring is struggling to maintain a large enough population to survive.
"We're hoping to solve this problem by building a new civic center downtown. It should attract new businesses to our community. Most of the business leaders of this town, myself included, have donated their own personal money for the endeavor, so we're all very committed. The company in charge of the construction will be briefing us all on the progress at the gala.
"None of the other women will bother me with you by my side, so I will be able to focus on getting the information I need about this project. It's rumored to be running into problems, and I intend to find out if that's true."
Yikes. I'd only been accompanying John to small, private parties since I'd arrived at the end of the summer. This sounded like a really public event. Still, I couldn't exactly refuse. I had too much riding on my potential business partnership with John to decline. And I hadn't realized this cute little town was in such dire straits.
"Of course, sir. I would be delighted to assist you in this matter."
He nodded, and if I didn't detect just the slightest hint of relief, then I was out of practice reading people. "Wonderful. There is a boutique in town. You can't miss it; it's the only one at the moment. Pick out whatever you feel would be appropriate for the evening. It should be rather formal. Tell them they can send the bill to me."
"Oh, that isn't necessary."
John waved his hand carelessly, the gesture the most animated one I'd probably ever seen from him. "Don't worry about it. Frankly, I'd prefer it. If you will allow me to speak plainly, I don't want to be bothered by any women. If you look impeccable, particularly this first time, they'll leave me alone.
"I know you are not a vain person, but we both know you're simply more attractive than other women. You wouldn't be a model, otherwise. And you're not an airhead, either, so they're far outclassed. I'd rather prove the point once and effectively, than have to hammer it again and again over the next few weeks. This will make sure those, uh, women give me some peace."
Whoa. Okay then. If he wanted to buy me a pretty gown, I'd let him do it. I certainly wasn't going to interfere with that line of reasoning, even if I thought it was a rather harsh and unfeeling assessment of the situation. They were probably nice people.
"In that case, I accept with pleasure. That is very generous of you, sir, thank you."
"You're very welcome, dear. You are doing me a favor more than I am you, I assure you. Now, I won't take up anymore of your time; I know you're very busy." He brushed his hands, as if washing his hands of the matter, and headed for the door. I followed right behind him.
Before he opened the door, John paused, then glanced back at me so that he could look me directly in the eye. "I'm glad the electricity is working again. Do tell Jared I said hello the next time you see him. I fear it shall be presently."
"O-of course."
Then, with a wave and what I could have sworn was an actual wink, Mr. Masterson rolled out the door and on with his very busy life, and I was left wondering for the first time that my arrangement with John might not be a good idea after all.
I froze in surprise when my door opened to reveal John Masterson, Jared's father and the owner of the house I was currently renting.
Not that I was paying him a dime. But there were other ways to extract value from a person, and John Masterson was the kind of person who fully understood that concept. In his mid-sixties, John seemed like more a force of nature than an actual man. Despite his age, I knew he still played tennis four times a week, and it showed in his trim figure. When combined with his salt-and-pepper hair—always perfectly slicked back—and his tasteful sense of style, it was easy to see why he always had women hanging off him at the events I went to as his date.
John had never done anything untoward to me, and I had no concern he ever would. Ours was a purely transactional relationship. He allowed me to stay in his house rent-free. In return, I accompanied him to events so that other women would leave him alone. John was single, and apparently he wanted to stay that way. Our pretend relationship allowed him to focus on his work. I didn't mind the arrangement because of what I got out of the whole endeavor.
Which was more than just the free house. The real reason I'd moved to this little Arizona town was because, despite its small size, John Masterson remained one of the most influential investors in the Southwest—and one of his specialties was textile manufacturing. If I could convince him to fund the rest of my fitness line, it would work out pretty much perfectly for me.
Still, John was a cold man. I could understand why; virtually everyone always wanted something from him, including myself. Any intelligent person would close himself off from people in such a situation. And I was certain that alienation could be lonely.
But that didn't mean I had any desire to interact with him anymore than was absolutely necessary.
We only ever communicated via phone, so as I stepped back to let him into his own house, I couldn't help wondering what he wanted.
John paused in the foyer, peering around silently before turning and giving me a polite nod.
"Lena. A pleasure to see you as always. I see you've fixed the electricity."
"Oh yes. Well, when I woke up this morning, it was working. It must have just been overloaded from last night."
John raised an eyebrow. "This morning, really? My son told me it was still out. I believe you had called an electrician?" He moved away from me and made for the kitchen, not bothering to watch as his words hit their mark.
Damn. I'd completely forgotten about his idiot son in my haste to assure him nothing was wrong with his property. I followed him into the kitchen, mentally kicking myself for my own stupidity.
"Did Jared say that? Maybe I called him before the electricity came on ..."
John waved away my lame explanation. "My son has always been ... exuberant. I can see how it could tire a person."
I had nothing tactful to say to that. We lapsed into silence, my eyes wandering around for something to discuss. They landed on the fridge. "Would you like something to drink? I have water, tea, and orange juice."
"Water would be fine, thank you."
I grabbed a bottle out of the fridge, then turned around to find him watching me, or rather, studying, as if inspecting a horse he was considering buying for any possible defects.
"You're always very polite. I do appreciate that in you."
"Thank you, sir."
"And this place is spotless. I'm not sure how you manage that with my son coming around here all the time."
That would be because I typically followed behind all of them and cleaned up every mess as the night went along. But he didn't need to know that.
"Oh, your son isn't so bad."
He smiled slightly—or it could have been a grimace. Kind of hard to tell with such an expressionless person. "I've seen my son's apartment, so I will have to add tactfulness to your many desirable qualities."
I stood there, wishing I had gotten myself a bottle of water as well, just to have something to do with my hands. John took a small swig of water and then screwed the cap back on, placing the bottle precisely in the middle of my kitchen island.
"Anyway, I'm sure you know I'm here to discuss things other than my son's sloppiness. I need you to attend a gala with me next Saturday evening. Our town desperately needs new families. Most young people have left for the cities over the last few decades. Spring is struggling to maintain a large enough population to survive.
"We're hoping to solve this problem by building a new civic center downtown. It should attract new businesses to our community. Most of the business leaders of this town, myself included, have donated their own personal money for the endeavor, so we're all very committed. The company in charge of the construction will be briefing us all on the progress at the gala.
"None of the other women will bother me with you by my side, so I will be able to focus on getting the information I need about this project. It's rumored to be running into problems, and I intend to find out if that's true."
Yikes. I'd only been accompanying John to small, private parties since I'd arrived at the end of the summer. This sounded like a really public event. Still, I couldn't exactly refuse. I had too much riding on my potential business partnership with John to decline. And I hadn't realized this cute little town was in such dire straits.
"Of course, sir. I would be delighted to assist you in this matter."
He nodded, and if I didn't detect just the slightest hint of relief, then I was out of practice reading people. "Wonderful. There is a boutique in town. You can't miss it; it's the only one at the moment. Pick out whatever you feel would be appropriate for the evening. It should be rather formal. Tell them they can send the bill to me."
"Oh, that isn't necessary."
John waved his hand carelessly, the gesture the most animated one I'd probably ever seen from him. "Don't worry about it. Frankly, I'd prefer it. If you will allow me to speak plainly, I don't want to be bothered by any women. If you look impeccable, particularly this first time, they'll leave me alone.
"I know you are not a vain person, but we both know you're simply more attractive than other women. You wouldn't be a model, otherwise. And you're not an airhead, either, so they're far outclassed. I'd rather prove the point once and effectively, than have to hammer it again and again over the next few weeks. This will make sure those, uh, women give me some peace."
Whoa. Okay then. If he wanted to buy me a pretty gown, I'd let him do it. I certainly wasn't going to interfere with that line of reasoning, even if I thought it was a rather harsh and unfeeling assessment of the situation. They were probably nice people.
"In that case, I accept with pleasure. That is very generous of you, sir, thank you."
"You're very welcome, dear. You are doing me a favor more than I am you, I assure you. Now, I won't take up anymore of your time; I know you're very busy." He brushed his hands, as if washing his hands of the matter, and headed for the door. I followed right behind him.
Before he opened the door, John paused, then glanced back at me so that he could look me directly in the eye. "I'm glad the electricity is working again. Do tell Jared I said hello the next time you see him. I fear it shall be presently."
"O-of course."
Then, with a wave and what I could have sworn was an actual wink, Mr. Masterson rolled out the door and on with his very busy life, and I was left wondering for the first time that my arrangement with John might not be a good idea after all.
