Page 44 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

“I’d never dream of it, Georgie,” I replied smoothly. “Do you remember how I helped you out with that little insider trading matter a while back?”

“Of course. It didn’t come back to bite you in the ass, did it?”

“No, I’m fine. But you also said that if I had any favors that needed doing—”

“I see. You know I can’t help you if it’s something big, Mason.”

“I know that. I wouldn’t ask, but it so turns out that I feel like I’m being persecuted by a particular member of the NYPD.”

The line went silent for a moment. “Tell me what happened.”

“You know that hotel I own downtown?”

“The Rafferty?”

“Yes, that’s the one. I invited a street artist to do a mural on the inside, and yet the police found the need to come into my own property and attempt to arrest me for trespassing.”

“I see.” George muttered under his breath. “That would upset me, too. I take it you weren’t arrested?”

“The man refused to listen to reason and was intent on arresting us all. I had half a mind to let him, and wasn’t resisting, when he told me…”

George went utterly silent for a long moment after I told him what the cop had said to me. It stung a little hearing the words leave my mouth. Megan frowned in sympathy and put her hand on top of my own for support.

“That is not conduct becoming a member of law enforcement. Since no one was hurt, I think I can get this cleaned up for you. Do you want me to push for a formal reprimand?”

“No, I just want you to make sure my girlfriend isn’t prosecuted for spraying him in the face.”

“I think there’s sufficient grounds for provocation—and I know for a fact that the ADA isn’t going to recommend going forward with charges.”

“Thanks, Georgie. I owe you one, now.”

“No, we’re even. Just don’t try to weasel out of our game.”

“I’ll be there, I promise.”

I put the phone down and turned to Megan’s hopeful face.

“Okay, nothing to worry about. It’s being taken care of.”

“Thank you,” she said, deflating into her seat like melted taffy. “I was so worried I would wind up with a criminal record.”

“Not on my watch—especially when you were just sticking up for me.”

“What that man said was awful. He has no business being a cop.”

“I have one more thing to do,” Mason said. “If you don’t mind a brief pit stop?”

“Of course I don’t.”

Soon the limo pulled up in front of the Rafferty. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Okay,” she said, not taking her eyes from the phone. She was texting all of her friends to make sure that they‘d gotten home safely, as well as filling them in on our little misadventure.

When I entered the lobby, I was pleased to see that Martin, my general manager, had already arrived. He stepped away from a conversation with the head housekeeper and made a beeline for me.

“Mr. Wilder,” he said, wringing his hands in dismay. “I was so upset to hear what happened to you today. Theresa came highly recommended from the Sheraton.”

“Well, it’s possible her old manager was buttering your bread a little. Or maybe her attitude changed after she got here. Is she in the office?”

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