Page 128 of House of Payne
I sweep my eyes over the place, skimming past the mismatched living room set, the old drapes on the windows, and the small kitchen. “I guess there can be perks to the job.”
Miss Deveroux shuts the door and spins around to face me. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about the job.”
“No, I guess not.”
She offers me a small smile and brushes past me. “Tea or something stronger?”
“Better make it tea,” I reply, following her. I lower myself onto a stool at the marble kitchen countertop and rest my face in my hands. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t know where else to go.”
She’s been extending an invitation to me for some time, urging me to come by and blow off some steam.
Over the past few weeks, as my resolve around Mason has weakened, the lines between my professional and personal life have blurred. I don’t know what’s what anymore. Worst of all, wrong and right don’t seem as clear-cut as they used to be.
The conversation I overheard earlier is proof of that.
Mason hasn’t gone out of his way to hide who he is. Many women in my position would be recoiling in horror and plotting their escape. Instead, I’m bending over backward to understand how he became the man he is.
I’m trying to reconcile the image of the man from the diner that day, the man willing to come to my defense, and the man I overheard issuing an order to kill.
How can they be the same person when they are so wildly different?
They aren’t the same, and you know it. When are you going to make your peace with that and move on?
Miss Deveroux takes out two mugs and tea bags from the cupboardand sets them down. Then, she fills the kettle up with water, and the stove comes to life with a loud crackle. When she twists to face me, I almost can’t stand the pity in her eyes.
I don’t deserve it.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You’re right. I think I’m in over my head. I know I shouldn’t have looked him up, but I did—”
“You looked Mr. Payne up?” Miss Deveroux’s eyebrows draw together. “What were you hoping to find?”
I exhale a long breath. “I don’t know. Answers, maybe? I know that sounds stupid, but I thought that if I had the whole picture, it would help.”
Miss Deveroux pours the hot water into the mugs as she looks over at me. “And did it?”
I shake my head. “No, it just made things worse. It was easier before when I could pretend I didn’t know how messed up this world is, and how dangerous Mason is. Now, I…”
Miss Deveroux sets the mug in front of me. “Now you can’t turn the other cheek?”
“I’m trying,” I whisper, averting my gaze. “I just don’t know how.”
Miss Deveroux releases a shaky breath. “I’m sure this is hard, and I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but…”
“I don’t have a choice,” I finish weakly. “I know I don’t. I made a commitment, and I need to see it through.”
Miss Deveroux leans against the counter, her bright eyes wide and unflinching. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“I am,” I reply in a whisper. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”
Still, even in my wildest imagination, I couldn’t have foreseen how hard it would be.
Leaving is unthinkable, but I can’t imagine staying after everything I’ve uncovered. With Mason’s last words still ringing in my ears, I don’t know what choice I have.
Is there actually a man behind the mask worth getting to know?
Or have I convinced myself there is, so I don’t feel guilty about the pull between us?
