Page 75 of Sapphire Spring

“Not in the slightest.”

Unless Naser Kazemi’s smell counted as a controlledsubstance. Maybe it should.

“Well, something’s up. You usually love thisfaggotygardeningshit.”

“Could you not?”

The words popped out before he could think twice. His tonecombined irritation and injury, a combo he’d rarely, if ever, used on his dad.

The man sat back in his chair as if his son was growinganother head in front of his eyes. “Notwhat?”

“That word. What’s up with that word? Why do you use it all thetime?”

“Gardening?”

“Faggot.”

His dad flinched. Mason couldn’t tell if it was from theanger in his tone or the fact that when the word was said back to him, itsounded like a denigrating accusation.

“I don’t use it all the time.”

Let it go,Mason thought.You made your point.

“Actually, you do,” he said instead.

“Oh, okay, MSNBC. I’ll be sure to tone itdownso I don’t offend anybody.”

“Good,’causeyou could say it in front of the wrong person and they could take it the wrongway and—”

“I don’t say it in front of the wrong people.”

“That’s right. You just say it in front of me. So maybestart thinking of me as the wrong person.”

Jesus Christ. Was he about to come out to his dad?Thiswas a mistake, going at the issue this quick and hard. But discussing the man’sconstant insults with Naser on Saturday had left Mason with a sense ofembarrassment and shame. Knowing that someone he cared about had glimpsed PeteWorther’srelentless, furious texts had made Mason feelstrangely exposed. Which seemed kind of nuts. The one who should have beenembarrassed by it was his dad.

Now the expression on his old man’s face had more anger thanshock. “Well, you’re real high and mightyall of a sudden.It’s been what, two years since I bailed you out of that mess in LA?”

Mason felt his cheeks bloom. “There was nobail. Ididn’t go to jail. I slept through a listing appointment.”

“You slept through three, not one. You were at one of thetop brokerages in Los Angeles. You were working two different listings pricedover seventy million. The Conyers brothers both called me because they didn’twant to fire you out of deference to my relationship with them. And I lied foryou, remember? I said you’d had minor surgery and the medication messed withyou. But thanks to me, you got a commission off that listing when it finally sold.Without you. I negotiated all that, remember?”

Of course, Mason remembered. He remembered the whole embarrassingincident so well his dad usually only had to reference it with a simple phrase,likeyour mess in LAoryour LA nightmareto bring the bloodroaring to Mason’s cheeks. The fact that PeteWortherwas going into excruciating detail now was proof of how angry Mason’s commenthad made him.

Because it hadn’t just been a comment. It had been a request,and PeteWortherdoesn’t take requests.

“Then I set you up here where you’ve got a whole staff toclean up after your messes.Soif you don’t like mychoice of words now and then…well, tough shit.”

Mason opened his hands. It was better than following hisinstincts and saying something likefine.It wasn’t fine. None of thiswas fine, and Mason didn’t feel like pretending it was.

“You were kissing ass all over the office last week. Thatcan only mean one of two things. One. You made some drunken mess out there thatI’m going to have to clean up any minute now. Or two, you’re getting ready todo something real stupid and you’re already managing the fallout. Which is it,brainless?”

“Neither. I’m trying to make a positive contribution.”

“Yeah, I know, why?”

“I’m getting sober.”

Shock and something that looked like pain flashed in hisfather’s expression. Mason was surprised by the combo. He’d expected a dismissal.This was something else. There was concern in there somewhere, but it couldn’twork its way through the stone walls inside the man’s soul. Then a frosty veilfell, and his dad looked down at the table as if he didn’t want his son to seethe look in his eyes. And for a second—a brief, fleeting second—his dadlooked…what? Mason struggled to put a name to it. Happy? Eager? Hopeful?

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