He whirls around and stalks away, shoulders stiff.
I sag against the wall, pressing a hand to my thundering heart and trying to catch my breath.
It takes a few minutes before I’m calm enough to return to the table, but when I do, Mason’s gone.
13
Maddie
Naturally, Bettina is in a snit over Mason’s disappearance.
“What did you say to him?” she hisses as I sit down.
I fold my napkin over my lap and dig into the Eggs Benedict, which are now cold. “What do you mean?”
“Mason excused himself to go to the restroom a few minutes after you did, and when he came back, he was totally pissed off! He didn’t say a word, just threw some money down on the table and left! I know you must’ve said something to him.”
I say calmly, “I didn’t see him, Bettina. Maybe he got a phone call and had to step out for a minute to deal with something. I’m sure he’ll be right back.”
I’m not sure of anything of the sort, but I’m dang sure I’m not going to relay our conversation to Satan.
But why would he have left?
And why did he say I have a total lack of awareness?
And why did he keep his hand on my arm all that time?
And if it wasn’t because of my pink lipstick, why was he really looking at my mouth like that?
Maybe he wanted to kiss me.
I freeze with a forkful of Canadian bacon halfway to my mouth. My heart stops dead in my chest, then takes off like a rocket.
No. That’s ridiculous.
But… is it?
I think back to our first meeting. To how aggravated he was from the minute he laid eyes on me. To the way he flirted with me on the phone, and the way his gaze always seems drawn to my mouth.
Puh-lease! The man probably flirts with every woman he meets!
He didn’t flirt with Bettina.
Perfect-for-him-on-paper Bettina, who, if you’re interested, is about to rip out your hair by the roots.
“What?” I come back to reality with a jerk. “What were you saying?”
Bettina is a seething pool of rage. “I said,” she spits, leaning toward me, “if I find out you talked trash about me to Mason, you weird little virgin, I’ll ruin your life.”
I roll my eyes. “Terrifying. Speaking of virgins, if you try anything with me, I’ll have Bobby tell your next fiancé about the time he walked in on you taking it in every hole from the basketball team at that frat party his freshman year in college.”
I smile at her. “I’m sure the video’s still floating around somewhere. That pool table must’ve been really hard on your knees.”
She sucks in a hard breath and goes sheet white.
Then she throws down her napkin and storms away from the table, trailing steam. I get back to my bacon.
After fifteen minutes, I’m certain Mason won’t be returning. So I give the waitress the money he left and head out to the car.
I was expecting to see Satan sitting in the back seat, but when I climb into the front seat, Dick is alone, reading the paper.
He takes one look at my face and grimaces. “That bad, huh?”
“I can honestly say that was the strangest brunch I’ve ever attended. Where’s Mason?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“You know him better than I do. Where does he go when he’s mad?”
Dick starts to look worried. “Mad mad, or just cranky?”
“I’m thinking mad mad. There was a good bit of growling going on.”
Dick’s jaw tightens. He tosses the newspaper into the back seat, guns the engine, and peels out of the church parking lot.
“That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting.” I grip the door handle as we careen around a corner, tires squealing. “Is he dangerous when he’s upset?”
“Only to himself,” mutters Dick, hunched over the steering wheel. “How long has he been gone?”
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
When he curses, I start to get worried, too. “He can’t possibly do too much damage in twenty minutes.”
He says darkly, “You don’t know Mason.” Then he turns his attention back to the road and doesn’t talk again, even when I suggest we call him.
I guess Dick knows Mason won’t pick up.
We screech to a stop outside an Irish pub. Dick doesn’t bother to turn off the engine, he simply flings open his door, jumps out, and runs inside faster than I would have imagined a paunchy middle-aged man in a tight polyester leisure suit could possibly run.
Within seconds, he reappears. Without Mason.
He jumps back into the car and we’re off again.
“You gotta phone on you?”
“Yes, in my purse. Why?”
He takes a corner at top speed, throwing me against the passenger door. “Google every bar within a one mile radius.”
“Oh dear.”
“You have no idea. Hurry up.” Then, under his breath: “Thank God he doesn’t have practice today.”
I dig around in my purse for my phone. “Maybe I oversold his level of anger. It wasn’t like he shouted or got into a fight or anything.”
“Were his nostrils flaring?”
I pause, remembering. “Yes.”
“Did he have crazy eyes?”
I think of the unblinking intensity with which he regarded my mouth. “As a matter of fact, he did.”
“Plus the growling,” says Dick, shaking his head. “Yeah. We got a situation.”
I find the phone, open the web browser, and type in Bars near me, then wait impatiently for the results to load. “Do these situations happen a lot?”
His chuckle is dark. “You don’t read the sports section much, do you?”
“Too busy feeding all my cats,” I mutter, peeved. “Isn’t he in therapy?”
“Yup.”
“And that’s not helping with his anger issues?”
Dick looks over at me. “Just cause you let some steam escape from a nuclear reactor doesn’t mean it still isn’t about to blow.”
“I’m pretty sure the only time steam escapes from a nuclear reactor is when there’s been a meltdown.”
“Exactly,” says Dick, nodding. “And what you got then is some radioactive shit that’s gonna get up into the atmosphere and poison all the air and cause mass destruction. Are you understanding me yet?”
He paints a very depressing picture. “Make a right at the next light. There’s a bar halfway down the block on the left side. I’ll bet he’s there.”
“What makes you say that?”
I say drily, “It’s called ‘The Quiet Woman’.”
Dick looks at me strangely, but doesn’t comment. When we pull into the parking lot, he says, “Why don’t you go in and check if he’s in there. If he sees me, it’ll just be a fight.”
“You’re assuming it won’t be a fight when he sees me.”
“Not the same kind.” He parks and turns to look at me. “If he’s not in there, I’ll take you home. You don’t need to spend the rest of your Sunday chasin’ after Mason.”