Page 80 of Meet Mason, the Billionaire

“Of course! No wonder you didn’t want to sell it. It was something of your grandfather’s.” I nodded solemnly. “I hereby withdraw my request to buy the portrait. It’s all yours, forever.”

She sighed, and squeezed me tight around the waist, so tight I could scarcely breathe.

“Thank you. But I’ve got a feeling you’re going to be seeing a lot of that portrait from now on.”

Megan lifted her dark-eyed gaze, and it danced with possibility. I took her in my arms and kissed her, and this time she melted into me.

“Well,” I said, when we finally broke apart. “These guys can’t stand in the rain all day. Let’s go take a look at this portrait which has caused us so much consternation—together.”

“I’d like that very much.”

We linked arms and walked into the gallery. There, we found the portrait hanging in the back of her empty former kiosk. Being alone, it stood out even more. It really was a great rendering of my grandfather, at a young age I’d never borne witness to.

“Your grandfather was one hell of a painter.”

“You know, my grandpa was always going on about some friend of his he used to restore classic cars with. I guess that was your grandpa.”

“Yeah, it must have been. I still own that car.”

She gasped. “You do? I’d love to see it.”

“Consider it done.” I looked up at the painting and took a step forward. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

I gently touched the lines of paint, feeling the different textures. Oddly, I thought that the artistic interpretation of my grandfather actually caught more of his essence than the actual photographs I treasured.

“It’s hard to believe he was ever that young. I only knew him as an old man.”

“Ditto for my Grandfather. It’s kind of funny that the two of us came together, isn’t it?”

“Funny or fate?” I gently lifted the painting off the wall and turned toward her. “Come on. Let’s get this guy hung up in your new gallery.”

Megan smiled, then came over and kissed me tenderly on the cheek.

“You know, I think you and your grandpa look a lot alike.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, I do. In fact, if I had seen him at this age, I totally would have jumped his bones.”

I burst into laughter, which proved infectious. I couldn’t be sure, but I swear that the eyes of my grandfather sparkled for just a moment, but I guess it could have been stray drops of rain.

Then again… who knows?

Chapter Thirty-Five

Megan

I stood in front of the mirror, considering my look for the night. I wore a knee-length tiered black skirt with red piping and ruffles. It vaguely resembled what a Spanish dancing girl might wear, at least in the movies. My hair featured a side braid which snaked down my shoulder, and I wondered if it was just a bit too close to cultural appropriation.

I wanted to have a sort of south-of-the-border influence on my wardrobe, however, considering where Mason was taking me on our date.

My gallery exhibition? That had been a great success. My sales online had exploded afterward, to the point where I would have been able to move into a much nicer apartment.

However, every time I brought up the subject of moving to Mason—since he was pretty savvy on real estate matters—he always sort of gently put me off or steered the conversation in other directions. It was always something along the lines of ‘it’s not the right time for apartment hunting in the city’ or ‘let’s wait and see if one of the upper east side properties opens up.’

I eventually got the impression he was stalling, trying to keep me from moving because he had something else planned. As our six-month anniversary approached, I thought I had it all figured out.

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