Page 83 of Summer Lessons
It was everything.
“MRS. BRADFORD?”Mason asked Monday morning.
“Yes, Mr. Hayes?”
“Do you ever think of wearing something, I don’t know, spring themed?”
“You mean not so blessedly hot?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bradford. That’s exactly what I mean.”
Mrs. Bradford cocked her head thoughtfully. “You wear a suit to work every day, Mr. Hayes. The other executives come in frequently in slacks and polos. Why is that?”
Mason grimaced—and then recounted the unfortunate story of the casual Fridays that weren’t.
Mrs. Bradford raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like your boss was a real prick, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“Well, that’s what my ex-boyfriend thought, Mrs. Bradford—which is why Ira spent two years sitting on him.”
“D’oh!”
The sound wassoat odds with her appearance. “So I’ll make you a deal,” he said when he was done laughing.
“What would that be, sir?”
“If you wear something besides heat-sucking navy, I will wear slacks and polos, and we might survive the summer.”
A sweet smile softened her stern features. “I would like that very much, sir. Is there anything else?”
“Uh, yes, but it’s not exactly work related.”
She blinked slowly. “You’re too gay to hit on me, Mr. Hayes—my curiosity is piqued.”
“My friend, the one who comes on Friday—”
“Mr. Jefferson?” She inclined her head slightly, and Mason knew he fooled no one.
“Yeah. Terry. He, uh, is moving out of the house with his mother and is looking for an apartment. I was sort of hoping for something in Fair Oaks, but he doesn’t… his job isn’t… uh—”
“He doesn’t make an executive’s salary?” she supplied delicately.
“No.”
“Do you know what salary hedoesmake?” Her posture indicated no judgment whatsoever.
“I know what he does for a living,” Mason said. “Does that help?”
“It does indeed. You give me a description and maybe a company, and I can come up with some apartments in his price range.”
Mason smiled at her with nothing but the most profound gratitude. “Mrs. Bradford, is there some sort of reward I can put you up for?”
“Flowers on Secretaries’ Day are nice,” she said with a smile.
“Isn’t that Administrative Assistants’—”
“I just want some flowers, sir. My husband doesn’t do flowers. Is it so much to ask?”
Oh.
