Page 42 of Mason

“Inside,” he says, against my lips.

As always, I submit without protest, my body vibrating with restless anticipation.

Chapter 23

“You’re sure?”

Mason’s eyes bore into me, searching my face for hesitation. I breathe deep, lift my chest, and exhale. “Positive. Greek currency is about to take a plunge. If we get in now…”

He nods. “And you’re sure we’re not going to get scooped on this?”

I mentally review my research, cataloging the information I’ve been studying for days on end. The window of opportunity is fast closing. I bite down on my lip. “I’ve analyzed the data backwards and forwards.”

Mason’s eyes shimmer with that look he gets whenever he’s about to invest in something big—like a shot of adrenaline that settles behind his pupils and turns them to liquid ice. His cheeks are flush with excitement. “This is a huge investment for Daylight Holdings.”

My throat tightens. “I know. And I’ve been careful.”

Meticulous.

I glance over the spreadsheets again, calculating the figures once more. There’s no way I can be wrong on this…

Mason punches a number into his phone and puts it on speakerphone. Holden answers seconds later. “We’re going in for thirty million,” Mason says. He stares at me, searching, still, for any hint of hesitation. My nerves are like livewires, but I force myself to remain calm. Assuring.

I am channeling my Killer Instinct.

Still, I never asked him to go in for quite so much money. I just made the strong recommendation, he’s the one pulling the trigger for thirty million dollars.

My throat goes dry.

Oh, I know I’m supposed to be patient, and I have been. It’s been three weeks since Mason’s “lesson” and I’ve been obedient, watchful. I listen to his phone conversations, mentally taking note of his mannerisms during negotiations. I ply him with coffee, stay out of the way, and every so often, when he asks for my opinion, I carefully construct a response that demonstrates I am learning, processing, and above all, being very, very, patient.

This is my first bold move since my “punishment” and I have a good feeling that if things go right, an office amid the other day traders is within my reach. I’ve become a familiar face among them, spending lunch hours and coffee breaks in the busy room that hums with pinging computers, low chatter, and constant phones ringing. I hover, without intrusion, soaking up their wisdom and patterns. I’ve even staked out my cubicle, an empty one near the coffee room—I’m sure it’s reserved specifically for me.

I’ve become friendly with Misty, though the temptation to call her Gertrude still surfaces when she doesn’t return the friendliness, or snubs my attempts at small talk. It painfully obvious we have nothing in common.

Holden whistles low from the speakerphone. “That’s a gamble, Mason.”

Mason shoots me a quick glance, eyebrows pinched with concern. I give him the thumbs up, smiling.

“My intel is good,” he says.

There’s a pause, and then. “Tell me she wasn’t the only one on this.”

Immediately, my spine stiffens.

Mason folds his arms and sounds confident in reply. “I’ve done the due diligence here, Holden. Call Lucas in if you want.”

Now my blood thrums with unease. My heartbeat picks up speed. If—when—this deal goes through, Mason’s partners will have no choice but to respect me. I’ll have earned their trust.

Unless the market moves the wrong way. Unless, despite all my analysis, I don’t really know anything for absolute certain.

Holden breathes through the phone. “Fine. I sure as hell hope she’s right on this.”

“She is,” Mason says.

Touched by his obvious support, I glance down at my spreadsheet, and study the numbers again.

As the clock ticks down, a sense of dread begins to coil around my throat. Stop it, Liv. It’s just my insecurities playing tricks on my mind. Testing my newfound confidence. I blink back an anxious tear and stare at the web page, waiting for the transaction to complete.