Chapter 3 Friendly Drinks

Christine followed Mason to his car, a silver Audi sedan. He opened the door for her, and she slid into the soft leather seat at the passenger side. Mason bent over her, making her nervous having his face so close to hers. He fastened her seatbelt, hazel eyes sparkling mischievously as he noted the faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Don’t look so nervous, I don’t bite.” He chuckled, “Unless you want me to.”

“Mr. Pritchard…” she began but he pulled away from the curb and turned into the traffic.

“There’s this bar not far from here I like to go to. Nice atmosphere. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” he flashed her another one of his boyish grin which, much to her surprise, she found attractive.

“Umm… Actually, I was going to meet some friends for a night out. So, only one drink, Mr. Pritchard.”

“Mason.” He urged, “No need to be so formal, Darlin’.” He cocked one eyebrow at her, “Relax, will ya.”

Christine admitted to herself she felt nervous being alone with this man. If it weren’t for Chase riling her up, she wouldn’t have agreed to go with him. Although Mason seemed friendly and charming, Christine had too many experiences with men just wanting to get her into bed to know the signs. She wasn’t planning to complicate her life with office romances.

Mason watched the girl out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t going to be reeled in easily, but Mason wasn’t someone who gave up without a fight. No sir, he vowed to give her enough slack until she tired of fighting the pull. He knew Chase was interested in Christine, and that was enough for him to act on. He’d be damned if he let Chase get to her first. *** “You could always message your friends to meet up with you here, Christine.” Mason suggested when they arrived at the Irish Bar in Midtown. He opened the car door for her, giving her his arm to take.

Christine smiled at his gentlemanly gesture. “Maybe I’ll do that.” She said as they entered the pub. Strange, she didn’t figure Mason for a beer drinker. He seemed more refined. But looks could be deceiving, she supposed.

He found a corner table, (a whiskey barrel serving as a table to be precise) and pulled out a chair for her to sit. “Now, if we were on a proper date, I would take you to a fancier establishment.” He said, grinning at her widening eyes. “But, of course, this is just a friendly drink.”

She clicked her tongue. He was a teaser. “One friendly drink, Mr. Pritchard – Mason, sorry.” She giggled, slightly embarrassed. He ordered two craft beers for them. While they waited for their drinks, Christine texted her friends, Maxine and Frankie sending them her location.

The bar had a cozy atmosphere in the true Irish tradition. Shiny wooden floors, Irish music playing in the background and the yeasty smell of beer and chips completed the scene.

Frankie texted back: C U soon followed by a string of smiley emojis.

This made Christine feel better about being alone with Mason. At least her friends had her back. “Tell me, Christine… What is it like to work for our star attorney?” Mason raised his glass to peer over it at the girl. So pretty, he mused. His eyes flitted over her understated navy skirt suit and wondered why she hid her obvious assets with such hideous clothes. Christine sipped the amber liquid delicately. She shrugged, “He has a heavy schedule. Keeps me busy.” Christine avoided his gaze. Chase wasn’t the easiest person to work for, he was hotheaded and arrogant, but still… Gossiping about him with Mason? It didn’t sit well with her. Mason gave a dry chuckle. “He can be a prick at the best of times. My condolences.” He raised his glass to hers. She just smiled. *** Chase needed to let off some steam. Maybe a run would help, he decided. Also, a cold shower, he thought irritated. He pulled off his tie and threw it across his bed. That snake Mason! Of course, he would go out of his way to put the moves on Christine. Knowing Mason like he does, the SOB would do his utmost to one-up him. Angrily he unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to join his tie.

Mason always had this effect on him, just seeing him in passing had the ability to rile him up. The loathing he felt for Mason Pritchard ran bone deep. To think they had been so close at a time. It felt like eons ago. All that changed because of one woman. Amanda. The love of his life. Chase smiled bitterly; his grey eyes turned stone cold. The betrayal of the two people who were the closest to him still burned in his gut.

“Should have been him in that car and not Amanda.” He told himself in the mirror.

Now Mason seemed to have set his sights on Christine. Poor girl. He should warn her against the bastard. The muscle under his left eye started to tick. But no, it wasn’t his business who his secretary saw after hours. He must not make it his concern, he tried to convince himself.

He pulled on a T-shirt, kicked off his shoes, socks and replaced his pants with jogging shorts. The June weather at this time of evening was perfect for a quick run. Chase usually liked to jog mornings but with his busy schedule he had to be flexible. He prided himself on keeping his lean-muscled body in prime condition. Healthy body, healthy mind, his father instilled that into all his children.

At fifty-seven Alexander Ward still had most women drooling over him. He was physically strong and had kept his strong, handsome looks. All four of his sons had his attributes, even the twins who, although they resembled their mother more, at thirteen years old had inherited their father’s built and charisma. Pity they were such evil little monsters, Chase thought.

Having finished dressing, he went out of his apartment for his much-needed run. *** Frankie and Maxine, two of Christine’s friends arrived at the Irish Pub and saved her from Mason’s subtle interrogation.

“Girl, your boss is hot!” Maxine gushed close to Christine’s ear. The pretty redhead embraced Christine, ogling Mason over her shoulder. Frankie, their gay best friend, scrutinized Mason with hooded eyes, weighing him openly. Mason met the young man’s gaze with a sly grin. The redhead girl seemed to be someone ready for fun. Nice ass, he thought.

“Oh, no. Mr. Pritchard is not my boss.” Christine laughed, kissing the young olive-skinned man on both cheeks.

Mason frowned at hearing her using his last name, but he smiled nevertheless, extending his hand towards the guy and winking at the redhead.

“Mason. We work at the same firm.” He took Maxine’s hand and led her to his seat. “Christine and I were just having a friendly drink. Please join us.”

“Why, don’t mind if we do.” Maxine smiled prettily back at Mason. She lifted one shapely leg over the other making her short black skirt ride up high enough to reveal a creamy thigh.

Mason chuckled low. Usually he won’t mind easy pickings, but he had his sights set on Christine. No matter how long it takes. He grabbed two more chairs for himself and Frankie to join the girls.

“You don’t look like a secretary.” Frankie observed, chin in hand, watching Mason sipping his beer.

Christine giggled, a pink blush coloring her alabaster skin. “No, Mason is a lawyer, Frankie.”

“Hmm, I bet he’s very good at it too…” Maxine tittered. She winked at Mason.

Mason shrugged, watching Christine. “Some would differ…”

“Mason is being too modest. He comes highly recommended.” Christine said, pointedly. She knew about the rivalry between him and Chase. It’s hard to ignore all the gossip going around. But Alexander Ward would never appoint anyone in his firm who didn’t have the proper credentials. Except for herself, but that was another story.

“Honey, you’re still in your work clothes,” Frankie groaned. “We can’t hit the clubs with you looking like Martha Stuart.” He said, his hand waving at her in disgust. “You need a make-over, stat!”

Mason hid a smile behind his hand. He couldn’t agree more. Being curious, Mason asked: “Sounds like fun. Where are you headed?” “There’s this hot new club in Manhattan. I’d love to go there.” Maxine replied. “So, what are we waiting for?” Mason held out his hand to Christine. She hesitated a few minutes before taking his proffered hand and he pulled her out of her seat, their bodies making brief contact.