Unsettling Questions

LAUREN

Mason had just finished his speech.

It was impressive, to say the least.

Applause filled the room, along with praises for him.

I hadn’t spoken to him in over an hour, ever since Rosemary had left me to my own devices. I felt exposed, like a deer caught in headlights.

Ever since that woman had made that snide remark, I’d been searching for peace, but it was nowhere to be found.

Now, I was just trying to survive. I wandered around the ballroom, scanning the crowd for Mason, but he was nowhere in sight.

I grabbed my third drink of the night as I navigated through the sea of people, hoping to spot him.

Suddenly, a familiar face caught my eye.

Max Wynward, Mason’s lawyer, was heading my way. He looked dashing in his tux, his cheerful demeanor infectious. I found myself smiling as he approached me.

Finally, a friendly face. An ally in this sea of strangers.

“Lauren,” he greeted me, standing beside me. “Are you enjoying yourself?” His knowing smile told me he was aware of my discomfort.

“I’m on my third drink, what do you think?” I replied, meeting his gaze. His low, throaty laugh echoed in my ears.

“Glad that’s funny to you.”

His presence didn’t stop me from scanning the room for a certain dark-haired, gray-eyed man in a tux.

“Mason is having a private meeting with someone now.”

“Oh…right.” I felt a flush of embarrassment creep up my cheeks. I was annoyed at myself for being so transparent.

“I wasn’t really looking for him.” The lie twisted my insides. It was painfully obvious who I was searching for, and the fact that I only knew two people here didn’t help.

And one of them was standing right in front of me.

He looked like he was holding back a laugh, and I wished the ground would swallow me up to save me from this embarrassment.

But being the gentleman he was, Max didn’t call me out on my lie.

He just became my favorite person in the world.

He waited for me to say something, but all I could do was shake my head in embarrassment. He broke the silence, “It’s a good party.”

I forced a smile. “Definitely not my kind of party, though. The clothes, the music…especially the music. It’s so dull it could put anyone to sleep. And these heels are killing me.”

“And what kind of party do you prefer?”

“The fun kind. The kind where I can show up in sweatpants and no one would bat an eye. Can you imagine if I wore sweatpants to this party?

“The ladies would faint, and my face and sweatpants would be on the cover of ~Snob Magazine~.”

He smiled, “There’s no rule that says you can’t wear sweatpants.”

“Did you hear what I said? The ladies would faint. I could be arrested for causing heart attacks—”

I stopped when I saw his raised eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised. You have no idea how obsessed these rich women are with fashion.

“You’d think it’s a religion everyone has to follow. I bet some of these women have shrines dedicated to their favorite designers in their homes.”

Max looked genuinely concerned, “Are you sure you’re not drunk, Lauren?”

I blinked a few times before responding, a small smile playing on my lips.

“It’s just three glasses, Max. I can hold my liquor.” If I was really drunk, he would know.

Drunk me was a disaster.

Drunk me would send anyone running for the hills.

He grinned at me. “You’ve been doing well tonight.”

I nodded and returned his grin. “Yeah, well, can’t have Mason brooding all night, and you know how he loves to brood.”

“Thankfully, he hasn’t had an episode lately, but there’s been an occasional glare and scowl. Those might be harder to get rid of.”

Max laughed. “Believe me, Lauren, I didn’t think you’d last a week with him.”

“Neither did I! Do you know how many nights I’ve slept with one eye open because I thought he was going to kill me in my sleep?”

His eyes sparkled with amusement, “And now look at you: two peas in a pod.”

“Please, you offend me,” I half cried, half laughed, shocked at his audacity.

Two peas in a pod?

But the way he looked at me, with that lopsided smile and warm eyes, I felt like he could see something I couldn’t.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His seriousness alarmed me. Not because he wasn’t smiling anymore, but because he looked so serious. I was scared of what he might ask, and even more scared of my answer.

But I nodded, feeling my energy drain away.

“Would you give him up?” I started to protest, but Max held up his hand to stop me.

“When the year is over, do you think you can walk away from him?”

My heart pounded in my chest, the sound deafening.

“I…I don’t think I have a choice. We made a deal. I signed it. You were there, Max,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Max’s question had scared me more than I cared to admit. Why would he ask me something like that, knowing how uncomfortable it would make me feel?

Maybe he didn’t mean to scare me, but I was officially terrified.

I quit dreaming about the future a long time ago. I stopped pondering the what-ifs. And the idea of a future with Mason was a dangerous territory I never let myself wander into.

Max didn’t seem content with my response, and I had to fight the urge to frown or make a run for it. He was looking at me, trying to decipher me. Trying to peek into my thoughts.

“When the time comes, I’m still going to leave.”

“I wonder if you mean that,” he pondered aloud.

I shot him a stern look.

“I plan to stick to that deal, and I’d appreciate if you’d see it that way. Mason and I are just friends, and eventually, we’ll have to part ways. Nothing can change that.”

~Nothing can change that.~

He studied me for another long moment before smiling. “The future is a mystery, Lauren.”

I clenched my teeth but kept my smile intact.

“Couldn’t agree more.” I turned away, my eyes finding Mason in the crowd again, relieved that he was back in my sight, but annoyed that he didn’t come to me right away.

A surge of irritation bubbled up within me, traveling from my stomach to my chest and finally to my eyes, which began to see everything through a red haze.

The thing that really got under my skin was the feeling of being discarded.

Every time I scanned the ballroom, I’d see someone wrapped in their date’s arms, and when I looked at my own arm, it was empty.

But why should I care? If Mason didn’t care enough to stick by my side tonight, why should I feel hurt over it?

I should just ignore him.

I should look away.

But there he was, not too far away, chatting amiably with two men and a woman.

My eyes were drawn to him like a magnet, and I found myself staring with a concealed smile, forgetting that I was supposed to be mad. If he approached me, I’d talk to him.

Forget about being thrown into a room full of strangers and forget about feeling abandoned. Let me forget about everything else except this smug, rude, arrogant—

~Take a deep breath and calm down, Lauren.~

And then he was smiling brightly. His face looked as if it were carved from solid granite. It took my breath away and made my heart race. It stirred up the butterflies.

“Go to him.”

Son of a…

I shot Max a dark glare, having completely forgotten he was standing next to me, not that he seemed to mind being ignored. He looked like he’d just hit the jackpot.

If only I could wipe that smug smile off his face.

“You want to go to him,” he insisted, giving me a knowing look. “I won’t judge, Lauren. He’s your husband, after all.”

That damn smug smile…

I couldn’t hide the annoyance on my face.

“Have you always been this annoying? You sound like him.”

“Who sounds like whom?” a voice drawled from behind. I whipped my head around and took a silent breath. There he was, looking as handsome as ever, maybe even more so than before.

His head was slightly tipped back, and he was fixing me with his gaze, no hint of humor on his face. He shifted his gaze, now looking at Max.

“Care to share your little conversation?”

I knew he was trying to assert his dominance over Max, and it was so subtly done that it was barely noticeable.

He knew it wouldn’t work on me and decided to seek the answers he needed from his lawyer.

To save myself from embarrassment and awkwardness, I quickly interjected, “Nothing worth mentioning. Just some boring talk that has nothing to do with you.”

He looked at me with hooded eyes, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and letting his teeth graze over it. Thinking.

My entire body tensed, proving to him that there was indeed something else by not letting Max speak.

His eyes were soft and dark, head tilted a little as he watched me, and I prayed to God this wasn’t one of those moments where he could read my mind.

To distract him, or maybe myself, I blurted out:

“What brings you here, Mr. Campbell? I’m grateful that you’ve spared enough of your time to speak to us.

“I thought from the way you’ve been mingling with people that you wouldn’t bother to grace us with your presence. We are truly honored that you did.”

I was being incredibly petty right now, but I didn’t care.

He had to know I was annoyed by his actions tonight.

Max coughed, trying to hide his laughter.

Mason acknowledged the statement with a subtle nod of his head and a lazy sweep of his eyes over my face.

He was thinking about something, maybe considering what he wanted to say or how much he wanted to tell me.

“You done?”

And the words were short, sharp, and angry, and I could see it, in the way that he clenched his jaw, the way he seemed to radiate an energy that I wished didn’t turn me on.

I let out a huff, looking away from him, still annoyed.

And his next words surprised me enough to make me whip my head around to stare at him, to make sure I wasn’t imagining it, that those words had really come out of his mouth.

They did, and his response to his own unanswered question was proof enough. He had to repeat it again.

“Would you like to dance?”

I glanced at Max briefly to make sure I wasn’t the only one who heard it, who raised both his brows and it was enough for me to breathe out “Sure” with a slight nod of my head.

Then he smiled, just a tiny lift of the corner of his mouth but enough to throw me off balance.

He guided us to the dance floor with a hand on my lower back. I’m not sure how my feet managed to follow him.

A few other couples were dancing closely, and some were just enjoying each other’s company, whispering to each other and smiling.

I wasn’t going to say I didn’t know how to dance, or I had never done it before.

I just wasn’t very good at it, and it had been years since I had danced, and something told me I had probably forgotten the steps.

When we reached an open spot near the edge of the floor, Mason gracefully turned me in his arms, sliding both hands around my lower back, firmly but gently.

Instinctively, I slid my hands over his shoulders. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of a complicated puzzle.

The familiar rush of warmth, the internal jolt that came with his touch, was something I welcomed.

Mason Campbell was a man of many talents, and his ability to move to the music was no exception. Dancing with him, so close that only a thin layer of silk separated us, made me acutely aware of his proximity.

“I should kill you right now,” I said, reminding myself that I was supposed to be mad at him. But the truth was, I wasn’t. The moment he looked into my eyes, my anger had evaporated.

“Is that so?” he asked, his lack of reaction annoying me. But that was Mason for you. He could get angry easily, but he was just as capable of showing how unbothered he was. I couldn’t decide which was more irritating.

“I should dump your body in the ocean where no one can find it,” I continued.

He twirled me around and pulled me back against him, our bodies swaying to the music. “That sounds like a lot of work,” he said, his face devoid of emotion. He even had the audacity to give me a small, innocent smile.

Much to my dismay, my plan to annoy him as much as he annoyed me wasn’t working. He wouldn’t let me win.

“But not impossible,” I retorted, deciding to play along.

There’s something about satisfaction that makes people shine. I could see it in Mason.

“You’d do all that by yourself? How much do you weigh? Can you even carry my dead body? And whose car would you use? Mine?” he asked, a playful smile on his face.

“No, that would make me the prime suspect,” I replied.

He looked at me calmly, as if we were having a normal conversation. “Maybe you’d hire someone to do it, but judging from your bank account, you wouldn’t be able to pay them. Unless you promise to pay after the job is done. You’re doing a fine job at convincing me you’re not a murderer.” His dark eyes bored into mine, almost consuming me.

“You’re unhappy with me?” he finally asked.

“Unhappy?” I repeated, snorting. “More like mad. You left me alone with people I don’t know!”

When he spread his hands across my back and pulled me closer, my heart skipped a beat. “I apologize,” he said.

“I’ll have to remember to bring handcuffs next time, so you’ll have to go wherever I go. Quite a good solution, don’t you think?” he whispered against my head.

“You know what they would call that?” I asked, a smug look on my face. “Hell on earth.”

“How lovely,” he replied.

I realized I hadn’t been paying attention to the dance. I was surprised to find that I was keeping up with Mason’s pace. I wasn’t as graceful or swift as he was, but I was good enough not to step on his feet or earn a bad review.

“So, you’re still not going to tell me why you ditched me? Fine, forget it,” I said.

“Careful, love,” he replied, his face suddenly serious. “We’re supposed to be in love, but you look like you’re about to set me on fire. People are watching.”

“I thought you said you didn’t care about what people think,” I retorted.

“I don’t. I care about what I think,” he said.

I hummed in response.

After a moment of silence, he added, “But I see you’ve made a friend in Max. You two looked cozy. I apologize for interrupting.”

“Mr. Campbell, is that jealousy I hear in your voice? Quite the scandal,” I teased, shaking my head and clicking my tongue.

He smirked. “Jealousy,” he said, his voice steady. He chuckled, a sound more insulting than his words. “Do you know how often the word is confused with curiosity?”

My hand traced across his shoulders as we swayed. “There’s no confusion here. It’s clear you’re jealous that I’ve established some closeness to your lawyer.”

Mason made a noise of displeasure that put a grin on my face. I swiped a thumb across his cheek. “You look a little green,” I said, laughing. His glare softened the atmosphere, making our conversation feel dangerous.

“I think I prefer when you’re mad at me,” he said, annoyance clear on his face.

I smiled. “Aw, don’t worry, you’re still my favorite man.” I enjoyed teasing him, and he seemed to find it amusing too.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been saying behind my back about me. I’m simply choosing to ignore it,” he said, his voice a rough whisper that sent shivers down my spine.

“This isn’t ignoring if you’re bringing it up to me,” I pointed out.

“Don’t you dare sass me,” he warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Campbell,” I assured him, a cheeky smile on my face.

Then, the music ended. I dropped my hands from his shoulders as he released me from his hold. We exchanged intense looks before I turned away.

Suddenly, a woman bumped into me, spilling her drink on my dress. I stared at the growing stain in disbelief.

The woman looked mortified. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice filled with fake panic.

She didn’t seem sorry at all. I couldn’t fathom why she’d deliberately spill a drink on me.

Mason didn’t pay her any mind. He gently took my arm, turning me to face him. His expression was unreadable.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, my gaze fixed on my ruined dress.

“I think I need to go clean up.” I knew I wouldn’t be able to get the stain out, and I couldn’t bear to stay and listen to the whispers.

“I’m really sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Just go,” Mason’s words were harsh, cold, and he didn’t even look at her when he said them.

The woman flinched, clearly taken aback by his tone. Her eyes widened and she quickly left without another word.

“Shit.”

“Watch your mouth,” he snapped.

“Mason.”

“That’s better.” He smirked at me and I rolled my eyes, letting him lead me away from the dance floor.

He skillfully avoided people trying to engage him in conversation, his hand on my back guiding me through the crowd. We ended up in a hallway, behind a glass door.

“Hold on.”

I stopped and turned to look at him.

“I can handle it from here. You can’t come with me to the restroom.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.”

I nodded, trying to pull my hand from his, but he held on tight. I tilted my head, frowning slightly.

He studied my face as if he were committing every detail to memory. As if he planned to dream of me that night.

How could a single, silent look affect me so deeply? It made my stomach flip. And he noticed.

He noticed my quickened breath.

He noticed my slightly parted lips, and the small step I took towards him. We were both caught in the moment.

Eventually, he let go. I managed to look away, turning to leave when something stopped me.

It was warm and soft, and it silently latched onto my arm.

I looked down to see Mason’s hand wrapped around my wrist again.

I let him.

I let him hold me. I let him memorize my face. But his effect on me was overwhelming.

I felt like I could collapse right there. I could barely stand, not with him touching me.

Not with him looking at me like I was the most precious thing in the world, like he wanted to consume me.

“What do you want from me?” I whispered, my eyes fluttering open and closed as if I were drifting off to sleep.

Those words were dangerous.

They came to life as I spoke them, a dangerous life that set you on fire and watched you burn.

My skin was flushed, covered in goosebumps.

The question seemed to make him tense. His jaw clenched, his teeth gritted in anger. But he didn’t respond.

He just left me standing there, alone. His absence left me feeling cold.

I found the restroom on shaky legs, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I was looking at my dress when I heard the click of heels. I wasn’t alone. I slowly lifted my head.

And then I froze.

I stood there, convinced this couldn’t be happening. This had to be a dream, I thought, or I was losing my mind.

The silence was deafening, a tense quiet that was shattered by a voice I never thought I’d hear again.

“Hello, Lauren.”

There was no denying that familiar soft voice. Shock waves coursed through me, leaving me paralyzed.

“Mom.” The word slipped out before I could stop it.