“Whoa, Daff. I’m the one who coerced him into this.”
“What? No, not Mason . . . although he’s not entirely innocent in all of this either. I meant Spencer. How dare he? How dare he try to hit on me, while devaluing my sister at the same time? Who does he think he is?”
While it was flattering that her sister was so outraged on her behalf, her absolute fury was a little overwhelming, and Daisy needed to rein it in before Daff unwittingly revealed the whole humiliating incident to their parents.
“Daff, you need to calm down. I have it under control.”
“Yeah, and while I’m proud of you for having the stones to extort the asshole into being your date, are you sure this is the course of action you want to take?”
“Auntie Ivy,” Daisy replied succinctly, and Daff winced. “Auntie Gert, Auntie Helen, and Auntie Mattie. Every single time I see them, I hear about how lucky our parents are to have me to take care of them in their old age.”
“Ugh. I always get the pinched cheeks and a reminder that I should find a man while I’m young, because my looks won’t last forever and I won’t be able to look after myself when I’m old and alone.”
“And then there are Shar and Zinzi and their little minions. Mason was amazing last night. He made me feel so special. And preferred. Please don’t tell anyone; it won’t be for long, and Mason is . . . well, fully on board. I wanted to back out last night, but after the Shar incident he practically insisted on going ahead with it. He’s a nice guy, Daff.”
“Even nice guys can hurt you, Deedee.”
“I know that, but the beauty of this entire situation is that he’s already hurt me, so I’m immune to him now.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does. I fell for his act once, and I was burned before he could do too much damage. Now, even though I’m constantly exposed to his charm and good looks, I’m armored against it. It’s kind of like chicken pox.”
“Daisy, I love you, but for an intelligent woman you’re frighteningly na?ve sometimes. That man is sex on a stick, and nobody is ever entirely immune to that.”
“I am,” Daisy said, while trying not to think of those delicious, drugging kisses she had conveniently left out of her confession. Some things were too personal to talk about. And besides, it wasn’t ever going to happen again, so there was really no point in talking about it.
Mason really liked Daisy’s parents. Millicent was a delightful lady who seemed elegant and unapproachable at first but was instead a warm, loving woman who clearly adored her family. And he had always known that Andrew McGregor was a stand-up guy. When Mason was about ten he had found a kitten on the side of the road; the little ginger thing had been malnourished, probably riddled with ticks and fleas and definitely mangy. Mason hadn’t known or cared anything about that; all he’d seen was an animal in need of love and care, one that would love him back, and had lost his heart almost instantly. He remembered walking to Dr. McGregor’s practice, the cat swaddled beneath his thin jacket. It was the end of the day, and the receptionist had looked irritated and tried to send him away. Mason had kicked up a fuss, and the vet had come out to see what the commotion was about.
Mason remembered Dr. McGregor’s kindness, how gently he had taken the cat from Mason and examined it. The gravity in his voice as he explained that the kitten was very sick and in a lot of pain and the best thing Mason could do as its owner was to let it go. Mason had been only ten, but he had understood the concept of death, had known the cold, hard truth couched beneath the man’s kind euphemisms, but the cat was his responsibility, and as such he had to do right by it.
He balked when Dr. McGregor had tried to send him out of the room and instead cradled the tiny kitten in his arms as the vet did what had to be done. Afterward, he’d allowed the man to take the cat from him, knowing that he couldn’t bury it at their house because the neighbor’s dogs would probably dig it up. And when Mason offered up the few cents he had in his pocket as payment, Dr. McGregor had left his dignity intact by accepting the money and shaking his hand.
He wondered if the man sitting across from him even remembered that encounter. He must have had so many patients over the years that one small boy with a sick cat couldn’t have been very memorable. And yet, the same encounter had altered Mason’s life irrevocably. Before that adults hadn’t treated Mason as much more than a nuisance; they had never seemed to see him. Dr. McGregor had not only seen him but had made him feel respected and important. It had made him want to be more than just a worthless kid from the wrong side of town. When he reflected on it now, he understood that Andrew McGregor’s treatment of him that long-ago day had been the first step on his journey toward the man he had become.
“So, Mason, how do you feel about our daughter?” Millicent McGregor suddenly asked, and Mason choked on his coffee, despite having expected the question long before now.
“Millie, Daisy says they’re just friends,” Andrew McGregor said, his voice gently chastising.
“That’s what Daisy says; I would like to hear what Mason has to say,” the woman retorted. She looked sweet and harmless, with a benign smile on her face as she cuddled Peaches on her lap. She was stroking the dog rhythmically but kept her eyes trained on Mason’s face, watching him like a hawk. The unflinching stare was a jarring contradiction to that sweet smile. Mrs. McGregor definitely had a core of steel, if that look was anything to go by, and Mason sensed an ambush.