Page 57 of Mason

Stop the trade.

I cry out a soft whisper of distress. My heart beats so fast it’s about to pop through my chest.

Ten seconds.

Nine.

Fuck it.

I hit delete.

My relief comes out in a whoosh as the numbers begin to flash on the screen and the market moves.

Thank god I cancelled the trade.

It would have been a bloodbath.

He likely would have been fired for it, drummed out of the business for such a costly screw up.

I was right. Tears spring to my eyes and I blink them back, sucking is gulps of air. Pride swells in my chest, overshadowing the sadness of knowing that just as I figure things out, I’m walking out the door for good.

Fate is a cruel mistress.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

My head snaps upright at the roar of Mason’s angry voice. I take a step back from the computer, tripping over his chair. My hip hits the edge of the desk, and I mutter a curse. For the first time since I started working at Daylight Holdings the bruise on my ass will be of my own doing.

I hold my hands up. “I can explain.”

Mason doesn’t appear interested in what I have to say. He storms toward his desk with large strides. My heart leaps up into my throat. He’s pissed—holy fuck is he mad. He yanks the computer around, shifting the envelope to his desk, and slams the lid closed. “This is confidential business.”

“I know, I—”

“I’m not interested in excuses, Miss Landers. This rule is non-negotia—” His attention is drawn to the envelope, and the smudged lettering across the center. “What’s this?”

I swallow hard. He takes out my letter and unfolds the paper, his expression hardening as he reads the words I’ve committed to memory. Thank you for this opportunity. I regret to inform you...

“You can’t quit,” he says, incredulous.

He’s disappointed, surprisingly so.

“I think it’s for the best,” I say.

Here I could launch into a lengthy rationale for my decision, but the look on his face suggests he isn’t interested in my reasons. He tosses the letter in the garbage. “I see.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” I say, echoing the sentiment of my letter.

Mason glowers at me. “I gave you a job when no one else would hire you, taught you everything I know,” he says, voice low and raw with disgust. “And this is how you repay me?”

My heart begins to gallop.

“I shouldn’t be surprised.” His sneer goes colder, meaner. “You’ve just proven you don’t have the chops to make it as a day trader.”

“Fuck you,” I snap, feeling my spine straighten under the pressure. “Maybe if you stopped wallowing in pity and gave me a god damn chance, you’d see I’m smarter than you give me credit for. I just saved your company a shit ton of money.”

His eyebrow lifts.

“Consider it my parting gift,” I say, rendering him speechless for perhaps the first time ever.