Page 107 of Summer Lessons

“Well, I got the phone number of that blond guy—”

“Hugh?”

“Yeah. And I think your other prospect was flirting with one of your soccer guys—”

Mason frowned. “I had no idea so many people on Skip’s team swung our way. Who was it?”

“I have no idea. He was young and hot—but that’s the entire team, so, you know. Whatever. But I’m sad I never had a chance with you.”

Mason shrugged. “We’ll probably be better neighbors this way.”

“Yeah. As long as you have the parties, my friend. You know way more interesting people than I do.”

They walked inside together and, in fact, had a nice conversation over cookies and soda. Stuart was the last to leave, trailing in Skip and Richie’s wake as they towed the exhausted dog into the car.

Mason was left with surprisingly little cleanup, which Dane and Carpenter helped with. He took a final dip in the pool before dousing it with chemicals to help counteract the people and the sunscreen and the heat, and then started up to bed while the cool on his skin remained.

As he fell asleep to the hum of the air-conditioning, he could still feel the tingle on his cheek.

Time and Space

MASON DIDnotmake it to the next soccer game. He had to go give a damned speech in San Francisco instead.

Hugh was actually very sweet on Monday. He came in, they talked about their new project and about promoting Carpenter and Skip, and then, almost shyly, he brought up the party.

“So, uh, I sort of figured out why you weren’t… you know. Inviting me places on the weekends.”

Mason stared at him, unsure of what to say. “Because….”

“Because you’re in love with someone else.”

Mason was wearing another polo shirt and khakis, and he pulled at the collar. “Uh, well, we’re on a break.”

“Good,” said Hugh, rolling his eyes. “I’d hate to think of what you guys are like in the same room when you’renoton a break. The sexual tension alone would up the temperature twenty degrees. But don’t worry—you’ve been a gentleman this whole time, and I’m not vindictive. But Idohave to say I have no compunction about throwing you at this whole speaking engagement thing. I was going to try to save you from it if you had any interest in me at all, but buddy, I’ve got a date on Saturday, and you are on your own.”

“Speaking engagement?”

Yes. Speaking engagement.

Apparently their new program had caught the eye of a company in the Bay Area, and the president had received an invitation for one of the two people who had spearheaded the changes.

Mason skimmed the memo Hugh handed him with dawning horror.

“No,” he said seriously. “Please. No. I’ll blow you to not do this—Terry would totally understand.”

Hugh laughed as though genuinely delighted. “That kid I saw Saturday? He’d gnaw his toothbrush into a shiv and gut me with it if he ever found out. No—I’m afraid you’re on your own.”

He left and Mason sank down into his desk chair, muttering “Fuuuuuuuuuck!” as he sat.

“Sir?” Mrs. Bradford said crisply, apparently summoned from the very air by his salty language.

“I have to take a business trip on Friday. I have to give a presentation Friday afternoon, and I’m the keynote speaker at a dinner on Saturday.”

“Well, sir,” Mrs. Bradford said kindly, “you’ve spoken at meetings before. We can work on what you’re going to say before you leave. It’s not the end of the—”

“Given by my old boss.”

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Bradford pulled up the chair in front of the desk and sat down gracefully. She really was lost in the twenty-first century, Mason thought distractedly. She would have been wonderful as an actress in one of those movies made in WWII.