What Are The Chances?. D. Graham R.

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       CHAPTER 4

      Mason drove a little faster than the speed limit, but it didn’t bother me because his car handled smoothly and clung to the curves of the highway. He kept looking at me, probably to make sure I wasn’t going to have a meltdown on him.

      Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, “Uh, I heard you weren’t dating anyone right now, but if that’s not the case I—”

      “I’m single.”

      “So, there’s nothing going on between you and Trevor?”

      “No.”

      He glanced at me briefly before focusing back on the road. “I don’t want to get in the middle of anything.”

      “Don’t worry. You’re not.”

      He nodded but didn’t seem entirely convinced. “He said you’re uncomfortable driving on the highway. Does that have something to do with how your dad died?”

      I took in a deep breath and stared out the side window at the rock face passing by, trying to decide how much I wanted to share with him. I took another breath and said, “Yeah. The car accident happened about a kilometre away from the Inn.”

      Mason’s eyebrows angled with concern. Although it had gotten a little easier over the years to tell people about my dad, it was still painful to go into details about the accident, so I mastered avoidance techniques.

      “Anyway, I just get a little weird about driving fast on the highway. Sorry.”

      “Don’t be sorry. It’s understandable.” He eased the pressure off the accelerator and we slowed to the speed limit.

      Neither of us spoke, and it made me hyper-aware of everything—the tremble in my hands, how loud I was breathing, how little I actually knew about him. To distract myself from the anxious thinking that was inevitably going to snowball, I racked my brain for something to talk about. Anything. “So, where have you been travelling for the last year?”

      “Pretty much everywhere—Milan, Amsterdam, Istanbul, Tokyo, Berlin, London, Paris, and New York. My dad threw me into the deep end to see if I would sink or swim.”

      “And?”

      He laughed. “I’m doing more of a dog paddle, but he hasn’t fired me yet.”

      “What do you do, exactly?”

      “Basically, I find out what other people are willing to pay a lot of money for and get it for them.”

      “Sounds interesting.”

      “Not really. I’m either on an airplane, in meetings, or on the phone in a hotel room most of the time.”

      I turned in the seat to face him. “You’ve been living out of hotels for a year?”

      “You make it sound horrible.” He pointed at me to tease. “You technically live in a hotel.”

      “Right.” I chuckled and shrugged to concede the point. “I guess it’s not so bad. Will you always have to travel that much?”

      “For a while, but once I learn about every part of the business, I’ll probably just go on a couple of big trips a year. That’s what my dad does now.” He down-shifted through the curves in the road and the engine rumbled. I really wasn’t into fancy things, but it was undeniably an impressive car.

      “Did your dad travel a lot when you were growing up?”

      “Yeah. He was gone most of the time. One time, when I was about four, he tried to hug me after he’d been away for two months and I cried because I thought he was a stranger.” He chuckled, but there was something else in the tone of his voice that made it seem like it was a painful memory. “My mom likes to tell everyone that story. It’s her way of complaining that he wasn’t around.”

      “Are you closer to your dad now that you work together?”

      “It’s getting better.” He nodded pensively. “I think I’ve figured out how to impress him.”

      “Has he figured out how to impress you?”

      Mason licked his bottom lip and seemed uncomfortable with the question. He finally said, “I don’t know,” and accelerated to pass a row of slow-moving cars. The engine revved as we sped effortlessly along the twists of the highway. Once we had left the other traffic behind, the engine quieted and we slowed down. “Sorry,” he said.

      At first I wondered why he apologized but then I realized I’d had my eyes clenched shut and my fingers clamping my knees. “Oh. No. I’m fine.” I relaxed and exhaled. “Actually, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such personal questions about your dad. We hardly know each other.”

      “Personal is good. You can ask me whatever you want. Seriously, I’m so tired of shallow conversations and superficial people. Tell me more about your dad. You must miss him.”

      I nodded and sighed. “I do. Desperately. We were very close and I would do anything to have just one more day with him. You’re lucky you and your dad still have the opportunity to grow even closer.”

      He concentrated on the winding road, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Even though he said he was okay with the deeper, personal conversation, he really didn’t seem to be. Eventually he asked, “What was it like to grow up in Britannia Beach?”

      “Life in a tiny roadside village is not fascinating enough to be considered a conversation topic I don’t think.”

      “Try me. Tell me something you used to do as a kid.”

      “Um, let’s see.” I skipped over most of my good memories because they all included Trevor. I definitely didn’t want to go on about him to Mason. It took a while, but I eventually came up with one. “On hot summer days I used to set up a lemonade stand in the parking lot in front of the Inn. I made so much money from tourists going by on the highway that my dad opened up a bank account for me. I still have all the money. It’s СКАЧАТЬ