Page 59 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

“Hello there,” I said, sounding just a little too gleeful for her not to be suspicious.

“Hello yourself. You sound weird.”

“I’m riding in an elevator.”

“Not what I meant, but whatever. So, guess who has her own artist exhibition at a brand new Staten Island gallery?”

I gasped. “No way. You?”

“Yes way! It kind of fell into my lap and I couldn’t say no. Anyway, the exhibition is next week and I’d love it if you could be there. I mean, I know you’re really busy with work and all.”

We hadn’t been able to see each other for almost five days because of our conflicting schedules, mostly on my part. I’d been busy with trying to get the hostile takeover crisis handled and put to bed, as well as making sure it wouldn’t happen again.

“Of course, I’ll be there. Even if I have to move some things around. Listen, are you busy right now?”

“You know that I’m not. You only asked me that five or six times today. What’s the deal?”

I winced. I’d been showing my nervousness and just a little bit too much with my anxiousness. I just didn’t want my surprise to backfire. There was a chance that it might.

“The deal is, I really want to take you someplace. Someplace special.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“Well, sure. Where do you want to go?”

“To the museum.”

A long stretch of silence. “Sure, that sounds nice. I mean, I’ve been to every museum in town a dozen times over, but it will be different this time because we’ll be together.”

I kept my glee battened down. She had no idea what I was planning.

“Great. Can I swing by and get you now?”

“Um, sure. Let me lock up and I’ll wait for you on the street.”

“Be there soon.”

I headed out of the lobby and into the street, where my compact white limo awaited me. My driver knew time was of the essence and didn’t bother getting out to open my door for me. As soon as I was inside he put it in gear and we made for Megan’s apartment.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw her standing on the sidewalk. She wore a breezy bohemian skirt in shades of charcoal and black, her shoulders bare. The purple felt hat was back, and this time came with a matching pair of knee-high boots.

The ensemble shouldn’t have worked, but it looked great on Megan. The wind tousled her long, dark hair behind her as the limo pulled to a stop.

“Hey,” I said, getting out of the car and embracing her.

“Hey.”

I pecked her on the lips and then gestured grandly for her to enter the car.

“I haven’t been to the museum in quite a while. I’m sure they have some new stuff I haven't seen before.”

“I can practically guarantee you haven’t seen some of it before,” I said cryptically.

“Which museum are we going to?”

“Oh, the one downtown.”

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