Boston's Man-Eater

XXII

As I laid back on the driver's seat of my car, with the dark, starless sky hovering above, a quick tap from my window had me prying one eye open.

Rolling down the window, I faced an unfamiliar lady smiling sweetly at me.

"May I help you?"

"Kyle Anthony?" She asked with an Indian-American accent.

"Yes..."

"I'm Aanya, Mason Loughty's secretary," she paused, reading my darkening expression, "I've been sent to arrange a last minute meeting with you."

"No."

"But, Sir—"

"Tell him that I have no desire or will to meet him."

"It's very important, he said he's trying to find ways to help a mutual friend in need."

My eyes narrowed with doubt.

Why would he want to partner up with me, especially when it includes Tess?

"Well, where is he?" I turned to search my surroundings.

"Oh, he's not here. But he said to meet at Aurora's Diner."

"What time?"

"6.45," she rubbed her arms that were clothed with a thin blouse.

Not wanting to make her wait out in the cold because of my stubbornness, I nodded my head.

"Thank you, Kyle," she smiled again.

"It's fine."

As she approached a black Audi, I started my car and went to Aurora's Diner.

My hands gripped the steering wheel as I felt my resentment towards him surface.

I could see the mocking glint in his eyes. The careless smile that seemed to tell me that he could have everything he ever wanted.

Taking infinite care in relaxing, I arrived the diner as the clock struck seven.

So maybe I had purposely took my time in making it to the meeting. I wasn't going to be punctual just for him.

As I searched the parking lot for any sign of his arrival, I finally acknowledged a blue Porsche Panemera and reasoned that it had to be his.

Gliding into the next slot, I locked my door with a hard gaze and started for the entrance.

Without any intention of dramatizing anything, I accidentally opened the door with a little too much effort and it swung open, the jingling bells drawing attention to me.

My eyes swept over the cream booths and bare walls, then Mason lifted his hand, sitting in the far corner by the window.

His eyes danced with amusement, and I mustered up a blank expression then strode towards him.

"Good evening, Kyle," his smooth voice greeted. He had a black suit on, and his fingers were laced in front of him.

"Hi."

"I appreciate you showing up, although," he glanced at his silver Rolex, "You're late."

"I had no intention of coming here."

"So she said...right—onto business."

"Yes?" I arched a brow.

"I understand that you've developed some sort of closeness with Tess," he mentioned, dismissing an approaching waiter with a flick of his wrist.