Fallen Crest Home Page 5

“Mason,” my dad said again. He clapped the guy on the back. “This is Stephen Quinn. I don’t know if you remember, but you know his son.”

It all clicked then.

Adam Quinn. The dick who’d tried to take Sam from me when we first began dating.

I scowled. “I know his name. You don’t have to say it.”

“Mason.”

That was my dad’s way of reprimanding me. Be good, Mason, or you’ll be kicked off this internship. I tried to mask the scowl; I really did. Maybe it was knowing that Sam was where I should be, or worrying something was wrong with her and I couldn’t find out right now, or maybe it was just the reminder that I truly hated this guy’s sniveling son, but whatever it was—I knew the scowl wasn’t leaving.

My dad would have to deal with it.

His eyes skirting from my dad to me, the guy cleared his throat. He held out his hand. “Uh, no offense taken. James. If I’m remembering correctly, my son had a thing for your son’s girlfriend.” He leaned toward me, offering his hand. “That was then. Adam has a wonderful girlfriend now.”

Like that was supposed to appease me.

I shook his hand anyway, flicking my eyes to my dad. See? I can play nice. Sometimes.

James’ mouth was a flat line of disapproval, but he said, “Yes, well, I’m glad I introduced the two of you. Stephen, I’m assigning my son to the hotel project.” He looked at me like he was trying to convey a message.

I frowned.

“And your son is working with you as well, isn’t he?” he continued, gauging my reaction.

Fuck that.

Stephen laughed. “Oh, yes. Adam’s been with the company since high school, and I’ve been giving him more and more responsibility. He’ll be in charge of handling promotions for the hotel.”

“You’re opening a hotel in Fallen Crest?”

My dad turned to me, purposely keeping his features neutral, but I saw the warning lurking under the surface. He was putting me on this, and he didn’t want me to mess it up. I had a few choice words for him, but I held them back. They could wait till we were behind closed doors.

“Yes, out on the golf course, and it’ll be connected to the country club,” James explained. “There’ll be a lot of cross-promotion going on. I was hoping to have that be your sole project this summer.”

The subtext was: You’re working with Adam Quinn. Deal with it.

I narrowed my eyes, but there was nothing I could say. He’d talked about a big project he wanted me to help with, but he never said anything about working with other people in the community.

My dad and Stephen turned to go, but not before my dad said, “My office in ten minutes, Mason? We can go over the details there.”

I went to wait for him. I needed to tell him I’d have to cut work early, but once we were inside with the door shut, he sat at his desk and started with, “Are we going to have a problem here?”

“I hate that guy’s kid.”

“I gathered that.” Acid dripped from his voice. He folded his hands on his desk. “What I asked is if we’re going to have a problem.”

I held his gaze; I sensed other shit going on. “Why are you putting me on this project? What are my responsibilities going to be?” There was a reason. There had to be. I wasn’t known for getting along with people, especially when they went after those I loved. It didn’t matter how long ago it happened. Adam showed his colors then. I doubted they’d changed.

James sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. “Adam Quinn is dating Becky Sullivan. I believe she was friends with Samantha as well.”

I nodded. Those two together? How did that work?

“I’m telling you this because Stephen Quinn has maneuvered himself into a close and personal friendship with the commissioner and the mayor of our community—two people I want on my side. I need on my side.”

“Then making me work with his son is stupid. I hate the piece of shit. I’ll probably punch him at some point.”

“You’re going to have to refrain, but that’s not why I’m putting you on the project. There’ve been rumors that Stephen is doing something illegal, and I think the other two are involved as well. He’s got a tight group that’s locked out the rest of us in the community. Except…”

“Except maybe his own son,” I finished.

“You’re the only one in my camp who has ties to his son. Yes, you were enemies, but that kid is going to take over his father’s empire. You won’t be playing football forever, Mason. I’m aware this is your backup, but it’s here should you want it. And I need you to do this for me.”

I was wary, but he had some points. I’d have to work with people like them eventually.

“What do you want me to do? Find out what the illegal shit is?”

“You could’ve used better language, but yes—find out what the illegal shit is. Do you think you can do that?”

“Were you hoping to use Sam for this, too? Because she’s out. I’m not letting you use her like that.”

He held his hands up. “I know. Sam’s out. I agree. It’s too tricky, especially with Analise. I’ve been away, Mason. And losing the inside track with some key people in our town was one of the consequences. I need to get back in there, and information is always power.”

He had a point there for sure. Fuuuuuuck. I’d have to be cordial to Adam. I might even have to be nice.

“Seriously? Adam Quinn? It had to be him?”

“I didn’t pick the players.” My dad gave me a faint grin. “If I had, it wouldn’t be you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, be glad Logan’s not around. That’s one thing in your favor.”

He paled. “I never thought about that. You’re right. He would’ve blown it up within one day.” His hands flattened on the desk. “So you’ll do it?”

I nodded. “Any way to stick it to the Quinns, I’m in.”

“Thank you, Mason. Really.”

“When does this project start?”

“Now.”

I shook my head. “Nope. It’s gotta be tomorrow. I have to go do something.”

“You’re leaving? Are you—”

He caught my warning look and decided on a nod. He pointed to the door. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. There’s a seven o’clock meeting at the country club anyway. Go straight there. You’ll be working there most of the time anyway since it’s the closest to the hotel.”

I stood to leave.

“Mason,” he called after me.

“Yeah?”

“It’s nice to have you on board.”

That was unexpected. I held up a hand. “Don’t thank me yet. I’ve not done anything.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

I knew what he meant. I just ignored it. I wasn’t working here for a better father/son relationship. I was here to fulfill a requirement, and that was it. But first, I had to deal with a different problem: the woman I loved.

SAMANTHA

The crowd doubled since my call with Mason. I assumed something came up at his internship because it’d been a while since we talked. I texted him once asking if he was still coming, and he replied that he had to make a small detour. That was two hours ago, and since then the sun was beginning to set, so a dusky feeling came over the air, mingling with the smells of beer, sweat, and greasy food. The music from a nearby stage pounded my ears, but I enjoyed it, leaning back on the bed of the truck where Heather and I sat.

Channing and his friends were talking and laughing. A couple sat in lawn chairs, holding drinks and watching the girls walk past. A few of those girls stopped to talk, then skimmed their eyes over to Heather and me. It was amusing to watch, because I could tell which girls were interested in Channing. When they saw Heather, they kept right on going.

We were set up at the corner of the parking lot with the fight tent a few yards away and a stage on the other side of that, so people were coming and going from the parking lot and checking out whoever was fighting inside the tent. As groups of guys passed, some stopped and greeted the guys with Channing. Most either nodded, pounded each other on the shoulder, or fist bumped. Some others stopped and raked Channing up and down, sneered, and kept walking.

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