“Well, I mean, it wasn’t like it was an official . . .”
“Daisy? I thought that was you!” The loud, overly sweet voice had the same effect on Daisy as fingernails on a chalkboard, and she girded herself to face the owner of that voice.
“Hey, Shar,” she greeted with more of a grimace than a smile, but Shar had already dismissed Daisy and her laser-like focus was pinned entirely on Mason.
“And look who you have with you. Mason, how wonderful to see you again!” She leaned over, probably giving Mason a generous eyeful of her exposed cleavage, and kissed the air on either side of his face. “It’s been years! I thought I saw you last night, but I was out celebrating my friend’s hen night, you know.”
She then, to Daisy’s annoyance, dragged up a chair and sat down at their table, turning her body toward Mason and completely excluding Daisy from their exchange. Mason casually continued to eat, saying nothing, but staring at her in interest, occasionally allowing his eyes to stray down to her breasts and then back up to her lovely face. His expression was inscrutable, making it hard for Daisy to figure out what he was thinking.
“What have you been up to? Are you home for good? What brings you to MJ’s tonight?”
Mason’s eyes, for the very briefest of moments, slid over to Daisy, and he cleared his throat before putting his knife and fork down. He leaned back in his chair, draping one arm over the back and angling his body toward Shar’s. The woman leaned forward, anticipating his reply, since—with the shift in his body language—she now had his entire focus. Feeling hurt and slighted, Daisy cringed—wishing she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Anything to avoid this.
“Date.” The word was concise and didn’t exactly invite further conversation. Shar’s eyebrows rose, and she laughed delicately.
“A date?” She glanced around the restaurant as if expecting to see someone appear, before she allowed her eyes to rest on Daisy. “You mean with our little Daisy? Well, that’s new. Daisy doesn’t date, do you, sweetie? Too busy with her cows and chickens to bother with men. But bless you for getting her out and about. We don’t see enough of you around town, Daisy.” She raised her voice in that condescending way ignorant people had when they spoke to deaf or mentally challenged people. Daisy gritted her teeth, knowing from experience that responding would only delay the unpleasant encounter and invite further bitchiness. “I’ve been telling your sisters you should get out more. Get a little more exercise, you know? Good for the body and soul.”
“Lady—forgive me, I’m not exactly sure what your name is—but I’m trying to sweet-talk Daisy into a second date, and you’re kind of ruining the moment,” Mason said, plastering an amiable grin on his face while he kept his voice soft and pleasant. “I’m a patient guy—sometimes I’m even a nice guy—but I can’t say I appreciate the interruption. Now if you don’t mind? Daisy and I have some acquainting to get back to.”
Shar gaped at him in visible shock, her mouth opening and closing unattractively as his words sank in. Daisy had clapped her hand over her own mouth in disbelief halfway through his charming little put-down. Nobody dismissed Sharlotte Bridges like that. Daisy’s eyes swiveled to Shar to see how she was taking it, and she could see that Shar’s shock was wearing off and her eyes had gone cold with malice.
“I guess you can take the man out of the ghetto but—no matter what his achievements—you can never entirely eradicate the stink of his origins from him,” she hissed.
“Wow, really?” Mason’s grin disappeared, and his eyes went frighteningly icy. He looked so dangerous in that moment that even Daisy felt a little uneasy. “You’re going to pull this elitist bullshit? In this day and age? Don’t be ridiculous. This is getting tiresome, lady. Why don’t you shove off back to wherever the hell you came from and leave us to enjoy our evening?” He dismissed her with a careless wave and refocused his attention on Daisy, who was having a hard time keeping the mixture of awe and horror she was feeling from showing on her face.
Shar was too concerned with her image to create a huge scene, and she aimed a fulminating glare at the wide-eyed Daisy before turning and stalking back to her table, where a few of her usual toadying minions sat eagerly awaiting her return.
Mason shook his head and went back to his meal as if the interruption hadn’t occurred.
“That was . . .” Daisy’s voice petered. There was really nothing she could think of to say about what had just happened, and Mason shrugged.
“That chick’s a bitch; why did you allow her to muscle in on your territory like that?”
“What do you mean my territory? The table?”
“No, Daisy, I mean me,” he growled. “We’re obviously here together, and you allowed her to force her unwelcome way into our conversation.”
“Well, I didn’t know if you wanted to speak with her or not. I don’t have any rights over you or any control over with whom you choose to speak.”
“Hmm.” He shrugged. “You were irritated by the interruption. I could see it in your eyes. So why did you let her walk all over you like that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head hopelessly. “Habit, I guess.”
“You always let her treat you like that? Like you don’t matter? What the fuck? Why?”
“I don’t know,” Daisy repeated and swallowed back a lump in her throat as she considered his words.
“And she’ll be at the wedding?”
“She’s one of the bridesmaids.”
“Are the rest of them like that too?”
“Some of them, yes.”
“Why is your sister even friends with a viper like that?”
“It’s a small town, and Shar is very influential.”
“I don’t give a fuck if she’s the pope’s daughter; she was always a bitch, even back in high school, and I never could figure out why people allowed her to have so much power and sway over them.”