* * *
EvaMarie could feel her hands shaking as she finally left behind the drama in the living room to face Mason in the hall. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as the old saying went. Her body felt like she’d been put in a time machine. All the devastating feelings from that long ago confrontation in the barn—the day her teenage world imploded—had come rushing back the minute her father had raised his voice at Mason.
She’d spent a lot of time throughout her life walking on eggshells, trying not to light her father’s fuse. By the time she’d grown a semblance of a backbone, the angry man he’d been had mostly disappeared. He reappeared only during times of high stress, and it was all EvaMarie could do not to give in to her childhood fears.
Now she had to face Mason—with no time for deep breaths or wrapping herself in invisible armor. Just hunkering down, enduring—just like most of her days now. The fact that he was actually here, in this house with her right now, seemed completely surreal, but the derision on his face had been very real.
There had been no doubt in her mind how he felt about her after all these years. She should take solace in the fact that he hadn’t completely forgotten her. But she had a feeling she wasn’t gonna feel better about him, or this situation, any time soon.
Maybe a little diplomacy would smooth the way...
“Congratulations, Mason,” she said as she approached him with measured steps, trying not to take stock of the new width of his shoulders beneath a fitted navy sports jacket that she never would have pictured him wearing, even if it was paired with a pair of dark jeans and cowboy boots. Talk about surreal...
He turned from his study of the formal dining room to face her, then raised a cool brow. How could he portray arrogance with just that simple movement? “For what?”
“Obviously, you done well to be able to afford—”
“—to no longer be pushed around by people, just because they have more money than me?”
Her entire self went very still. His words told her everything she needed to know—how Mason viewed his childhood, their breakup and her in this moment.
It told her one other thing: he was going to find a lot of satisfaction in this scenario.
Maybe it would be best to focus on business. “So, what can I do for you?” she asked, though she had a feeling he wasn’t gonna make it easy...
“That tour I mentioned.” He waved his hand in the direction of the stairs. “Lead the way.”
EvaMarie simply could not catch a break. She could almost feel his gaze as she took deliberate steps down the rest of the hall, pointing out various rooms.
He wasn’t even subtle in his gibes... “Can’t say I’m loving what you’ve done with the place. This version has taken the concept of ‘simplify’ to a whole new level, I believe.”
She couldn’t even argue, because she agreed with him. The state of her family home was a drain on her emotional equilibrium every day. But having someone else point it out...well, it certainly hurt.
Should she admit she’d sold off all but her mother’s family heirlooms to keep them afloat? Yeah, his reaction to that would be fun. Just one more thing to mock her with.
So she kept silent on that topic, instead launching into a knowledgeable diatribe on the parquet floor pattern, imported tile and other amenities her father had spared no expense on. All the little details she’d spent a lifetime learning that would be useless once she was driven away—but for now she could use them to keep herself from admitting the truth.
She’d done what she could, but the estate was going under, and there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot she could do to stop it.
“You’re getting a good deal,” she said, trying to keep any emotion from her voice.
“A great deal,” he conceded.
Color her shocked.
They stood at the top of the back landing, facing a large arch window that gave a clear view to the stables and beyond. It was a mirror of the front of the house, which looked out over the drive and the wooded property between the house and the highway.
Mason studied the view. “Gardener?”
“Um, no,” she murmured. “Not anymore.”
“That explains a lot,” he replied.
Stiffening, she felt herself close off even more. Though she shouldn’t be surprised that he just couldn’t leave it with the question. From the first words out of his mouth, she had expected his judgment.
“My brother and I would like to offer anyone on staff a job,” he said, surprising her. “No need for them to be worried about their incomes because the place has changed hands.” He stepped back to the landing, studying the first floor from his higher vantage point. “And we’re obviously going to need some help getting things in order.”
Yeah, no need for the staff to worry...only her family worried about living on the street... She ignored the implication that the property would need a lot of work to whip it into shape. She’d done the best she could. “That’s very generous of you,” she said, struggling not to choke on the words and the sentiment. “Currently we only have one employee. Jim handles the stables.”
Mason stared at her, wide-eyed. “And the rest?”
“Handled by me.”
“Cooking? Cleaning?”
EvaMarie simply stared, not liking where this was headed. Sure enough...
“Well, someone has definitely grown up, haven’t they? I can remember days of you being waited on and pampered...”
Unbidden, she flushed. “If that’s a backhanded compliment, thank you.” She turned away, breathing through her anger as she stepped over into an open area that branched off into hallways to the various rooms. “The rest of this floor is bedrooms and baths, except for this sitting area.”
“Your parents occupy the master suite?” he asked, his voice calm and collected.
Of course it was. After all, he wasn’t the one being typecast.
“No. The stairs are too much for my father anymore. There’s a set of rooms behind the kitchen. They sleep there.” They were originally staff quarters, but she left that unspoken.
“I’ll see the master suite, then.”
She gave a slow nod, then turned to the short hallway on the left.
“Your father’s illness?” he asked, for the first time using a gentle tone she didn’t trust at all.
“Multiple sclerosis, though he prefers not to speak of it,” she said, keeping her explanation as matter-of-fact as possible. No point in exhibiting the grief and frustration that came with becoming a caretaker for an ill parent. “We’ve managed as well as we could, but the last two years he’s steadily lost his mobility and physical stability.”
Her mother had declined also, though hers was from losing the stimulation, social gaiety and status that she had fed off for most of her life.
The grandeur of the master suite swept over EvaMarie, just as it always did when she entered. It was actually two large rooms, joined into one. Both were lined and lightened by hand-carved, floor-to-ceiling white wooden panels strategically accented in silver-leafing, the same accent that was used throughout the house.
With thick crown molding and a crystal chandelier in each area, the space left an indelible impression. Even empty as it was now.
She stepped fully inside as Mason strolled the cavernous space, his boots announcing his progress on the wood