Page 13 of Fallen Hearts

“I see.” Finding my words, I asked, “Where did you go?”

“University of Rochester. You?”

“Oregon State University for hospitality management.” And though I probably shouldn’t, I added, “You know, to manage hotelsandinns… things like that.”

Parker snickered. Leaning forward, he smiled in a way that was almost encouraging. As if he was rooting for me.

“You don’t say?” Mason asked, the sarcasm back in full force.

Mom always told me you catch more flies with honey, but I was over here full of piss and vinegar. “My parents own a restaurant in Oregon, which got me interested in the hospitality business. Since graduating, I’ve worked in various places, mostly lodges, up and down the coast.”

“Never been to Oregon.” So much for his acknowledging my credentials.

“It’s beautiful. I’m an ocean girl at heart and got used to being by the water.”

“Yet you came here?”

I met his gorgeous eyes that all at once seemed to both beckon me and push me away. “I was ready for a challenge.”

“You think Heritage Hill is a challenge?”

“Have you seen your father’s books?” Oops. Too much vinegar.

“I meant it when I said it was a surprise that he hired you. My father did not like change, with a few exceptions when he updated the place. He wanted to keep Heritage Hill running much the same as when he was a child. I have seen the books and tried to talk to him about making some updates, but the man is… was… as stubborn as they come,” Mason said, wincing at that last part.

“Something made him change his mind. I spoke to him twice, after a string of emails, and he was ready to do, in his words, ‘whatever it takes’ to get Heritage Hill back in the black.”

“Interesting.” Mason turned to Parker. “Does that sound like Dad?”

“No,” Parker said. “It doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.” Beck braced his hands on the bar in front of us. Where had he even come from? “He told me about a month ago that there would be some changes coming. Admitted he’d been too slow to keep up with the times.”

“That’s about when he first contacted me,” I said.

Mason studied Beck closely. “You didn’t think to mention that today?”

“You mean after Pia had left? When you locked yourself in the office for the afternoon?”

Mason’s jaw flexed. Beck might be a player, to the extreme, but he wasn’t intimidated by the very intimidating Mason Bennett. If they’d been friends since college, that was a long time. My guess was that Mason was in his early thirties.

I’d just hit the big three-oh this past summer. Hooray for me. They said age was just a number, but it still stung. I never imagined myself starting a brand-new life at thirty. Or flying cross-country to attempt as much, only to be turned away by the hottest, most emotionally unavailable man on the planet.

“Were you in the military?” I blurted.

Both Mason and Parker looked at me. It was just an instinct, but it seemed like a good one. Parker’s knowing smile gave Mason away.

“I was. Why do you ask?”

“Mr. Modest won’t tell you, but he was more than just military. Army Ranger. My boy is as badass as they come.”

A former Army Ranger. That explained a lot. Though I didn’t know as much about them as the Navy SEALs, I did know the average person wouldn’t have the grit or discipline to accomplish such a thing.

You are not impressed. The guy’s still a dick. Not. Impressed.

“No reason,” I said, turning away.

Watching Beck very capably run the entire bar himself, I decided to finish my drink and leave. I was done begging for this job. A guy like Mason, a Ranger, wouldn’t change his mind. He would be impervious to any form of manipulation or persuasion, not that I was trying to manipulate him.

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