Page 38 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

I couldn’t believe my boyfriend owned it. I started to wonder how my life would change if we wound up going the distance.

In a weird way, I didn’t want to give up my tiny apartment, or even my hand-to-mouth lifestyle. Maybe it wasn’t the most glamorous, but it was my life, and I’d worked hard to build it. I’m sure there would be people slapping their heads and calling me an idiot for having such thoughts, but they were there nonetheless. I couldn’t help how I felt.

“Is something bothering you?” Mason asked as we all piled out of the limo.

“No, I’m fine.” I smiled through my troubles. It wasn’t something I wanted to talk about, especially not after he’d just bailed one of my friends out of jail.

We headed inside the lobby. The front desk clerk looked worriedly at us as we entered. I guess we didn’t resemble their usual clientele.

“Okay,” Junebug said, depositing his stained cardboard box full of spray paint cans. “Where do you want it?”

“Hmm.” Mason pointed at a large, V-shaped brick partition. “I always thought that was rather plain compared to the rest of the lobby.

“Say no more. Say, can you stand right here?”

“Um, sure,” Mason said. “Why?”

“I want to capture your essence.”

Mason looked at me and I gave a subtle nod.

Junebug went to work. I have to admit, the guy was good at expressing himself in his chosen medium. Bit by bit, the image of Mason’s face in the middle of a blazing sun shining down on a punked-out cityscape took shape.

“This is amazing work,” Mason said as Junebug put the finishing touches on.

“I know, right? He’s annoying, but he’s pretty good.”

“Uh oh.” How Weird pointed at the entrance. “We got trouble.”

Two police officers entered the lobby and spoke to the front desk clerk briefly before coming our way.

“No problem,” Mason said. “I’ll handle them.”

“All right, Picasso,” the lead cop said, gesturing at Junebug. “You’re under arrest. Come on.”

“What? No! Mason, tell him you gave me permission.”

Mason stepped up to the officer. “Officer, allow me to explain. There is no crime being committed here.”

“Is that so?” The cop gave him an incredulous glare.

“No, you see, I happen to be this building’s owner.”

The cop laughed. “Bullshit.”

Mason’s smile faded.

“What you are, buddy, is under arrest for trespassing.” He turned to look at the rest of us with his steely-eyed gaze. “That goes for all of you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Mason

“My good man,” I said, straining to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “I was telling you the truth. I really do own this building.”

“Sure you do, pal.” The cop glanced back at his partner. “Go call us a paddy wagon. No room in our squad car for all these perps.”

“No one is a perp. I’m Mason Wilder. See, look at my ID.”

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