“You try pulling on a sweatshirt one-handed. It takes time. Which obviously I don’t have, since you insist on leaving before it’s even light outside. So let’s go before I fall asleep again.”
He took the sweatshirt from my hands and started threading my bandaged arm through first. He expertly pulled it over my head, then funneled my good arm through before pulling it down my body. Impressive.
“And here I thought you only knew how to pull clothes off,” I said.
He tugged on a strand of my hair. “That is definitely my specialty, but it always pays to diversify. Any good businessman knows that.”
I swatted his hand away and followed him outside. He opened the truck door and helped me up before walking around to his side. We made our way down the pitch black driveway, the only light coming from the truck’s headlights.
I must have dozed off because Mason’s voice jolted me awake. “Can you call Sorensen and tell him the truck will be ready this afternoon? And I need more silicone spray. And wiper blades for the F150. Don’t forget to get food for the meeting. And no more weird little strawberry thingies. You are not organizing a high tea,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, even though he couldn’t see me in the dark of the cab. “Anyone ever tell you that you are like the grey sprinkle on a rainbow donut?”
“Can’t say anyone ever has.”
“And I will not stop getting the strawberry tarts. They melt in your mouth and are the perfect size.”
He ignored my refusal and kept talking. “You should start a to-do list. I don’t want you to forget anything,” he added.
“I have never forgotten any of the things that you’ve told me. What makes you think I will now?”
He chuckled but kept his eyes on the road. “You’re barely awake. Just trying to save us time so you don’t have to come out into the garage to ask what it was that I said.”
Well, one thing was for sure, I was wide-awake now. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t dare interrupt you. I’ll be fine remembering everything.” I probably wouldn’t remember anything except to get food for the meeting. But there was no way I would admit that he was right and get my notepad out.
The drive to the garage took less than twenty minutes. Not surprising since traffic in Humputulips was light in the middle of the night.
Mason helped me out of the huge truck again, lightly holding on to my good arm. He left me standing in front of the office and disappeared inside the garage without a word.
I unlocked the office door and turned on the lights, all the while thinking about sleep.
“Are you feeling sick?” a gruff voice startled me.
I rested my head on my arm and continued typing with one hand. “Go away.”
“I’m your boss. You can’t just tell me to go away.”
“I think I just did.”
“Why are you covered in a blanket? There is a heater in the corner that works perfectly fine.”
“I like the blanket.” I pulled said blanket tighter over my shoulders.
“Get rid of the blanket, or I’ll hide every single one of the four million packets of popcorn you stashed everywhere.”
That got me up and moving. I threw the blanket to the side and jumped up, wincing at the pain shooting up my arm at the jerky movement. How did I forget about my arm? So stupid.
“You don’t mess with a woman’s food. It’s sacred. Just like I wouldn’t touch your tools,” I snapped. I emptied my purse on the wooden surface and searched for the painkillers. Damn arm.
Mason stomped back out the door. I found the pills and took two, swallowing them dry when I couldn’t find my water in the mess I had created.
I was busy placing orders when Willa messaged me.
Willa: What did you do to Mason?
Me: Me? Why?
Willa: He called Jameson.
