Page 24 of Sapphire Spring

Mason turned, the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination.

Wow. No wonder Fareena had trouble letting him go.

He pulled a hotel bathrobe off the back of Naser’s chair andput it on like it was a trench coat.

“Is this your office?” Mason asked.

“Uh huh.Sono major injuries? Youdidn’t break anything? Didn’t hit your head?”

Mason shook the head in question.

Naser handed him the clipboard. “Okay. Then sign this,please.”

Without asking what he was about to put his name on, Masonsigned the paper and handed the clipboard back. He missed Naser’s hand by abouta foot. When he went to adjust, embarrassment flashed in his eyes. Then he sankinto Naser’s desk chair like his bones suddenly weighed tons. Naser checked thesignature. It was about six inches above the signature line, but it waslegible.

“I guess I should get out of here.” But instead of moving,Mason leaned back. The flaps of his robefellopen,revealing one pink nipple Naser imagined sucking on until Mason gasped in pain,then sucking harder until his own mouth hurt from the effort. “Hey…” Masontried to sit up and turn around at the same time. It didn’t quite happen.Behind him, his wet clothes rested in a loose pile on a badly folded towel,presumably the one he’d used to dry off. At least they were on the carpet andnot atop one of Naser’s precious few cabinets. “Can you… Can you just…”

“Your phone?” Naser asked.

“Yeah.”

He moved to the pile, crouched down, and extracted Mason’swater-droplet beaded iPhone from the soggy mess. It still glowed. Mr.Worther, son of a wealthy real estate developer, had thenewest and most waterproof model. When Naser turned, he saw his formertormentor was now resting his head and arms atop Naser’s desk calendar, one eyeslitted. “Can you get me an Uber?” he muttered.

“Can you sit up so we can unlock—”

“Sevensixtwonine,” Mason slurred,eyes closed.

Naser had tapped in the code before realizing the man hadjust given him a piece of incredibly personal information he might never haveshared while sober.

“Mason?”

No response. MasonWortherhadjust passed out on his desk.

And then the office door flew open, and a wall of spicyperfume hit them both. “Get up!” Fareena shouted.

When Mason didn’t respond, she slapped one hand against theside of the desk. Her target jumped. “Now, Mason! Up andout. I can’tbelieve this. You promised me.”

Mason tried to sit up straight, but he was bobbing andweaving like he’d been unconscious for hours. Like he’d forgotten Naser wasstanding right behind him.

Naser’s thoughts were racing, but it was mostly just onethought,over and over again.Seven sixtwonine. Seven sixtwonine.Seven sixtwonine.

Fareena adjusted Mason’s robe to ensure he didn’t exposehimself to the lobby. “Seriously, I’m so sorry about this,Nas.I flagged down a cab out front, and they’re going to take him home. Thank Godhe didn’t drive.”

Naser just nodded.

And then they were gone.

And Naser was all alone.

With MasonWorther’sunlockedphone.

8

Holding the raw materials of MasonWorther’spersonal life in his sweating hands, Naser sat athis desk, plotting his revenge.

What lay ahead, he reasoned, didn’t require him to surrenderhis moral code.

Entirely.

---