Mr. Right Now (19 page)

He needed Haynes interested in Nate’s story, and the best way to do that was to sell Nate down the river. Turn him into tabloid fodder. Into an outcast. Mason figured the man deserved it.

He stepped off the treadmill and froze as the weight room door swung open, crashing against the wall. Casey stood just inside the door, arms crossed over her chest and tapping her right foot. This couldn’t be good.

“Hi, Casey,” Mason said.
Hi? Brilliant.
She was obviously mad, which could mean only one thing. She knew. At least he wouldn’t have to wait for the ax to fall.

Instead of replying, Casey threw a small black object at him, then turned and locked the door from the inside. She must not want to be interrupted. Not good. Mason caught the object with his left hand. A BlackBerry. His? No, couldn’t be. His was still in his pocket when he changed for the workout.

Unless she’d searched his locker. Mason raised an eyebrow. “Nice piece of equipment. Need help turning it on?”

“Give it a rest, Drury. It’s not mine. It belongs to you.”

Mason pressed the power button and watched as the screen turned green and then beeped. The LCD screen read
No Service.
“What makes you think this is mine?”

Casey stepped forward and stabbed a finger at the BlackBerry. “Because you left it at the bar hut on deck. Don’t deny it. I saw you there. Then you were gone, and this was left behind.”

“And you’re mad because I have a BlackBerry?” Play dumb, just for a minute. It would make her madder at first, but it might give him time to turn the story around. If he could make her mad enough to leave.

Casey wrenched the BlackBerry from his hands, pressing buttons randomly. A wicked smile curved her lips and Mason went hard. Damn. Even angry, possibly about to kill him with assumptions, she turned him on. Keeping hold of the top of the BlackBerry, Casey turned it so Mason could read the screen.

“Time is running out. Get the girl and finish the job,” she read the words on the screen from memory.

What the hell
? Not his phone, but whose was it? And was the message about Casey, or just a random message that meant nothing?

“Don’t move,” Mason said, pushing past Casey. He checked his locker and hurried back to the weight room. She was still there, looking angrier than before. No matter how this went down, it wouldn’t end well. He might as well make it good. Come clean about everything.
Crap.

He tossed it, mimicking Casey’s actions from before. She caught it, comparing it with the unit already in her hand. A puzzled look settled over her features.

“But, how... Why do you need two of these things?”

“I don’t. That one—” He pointed to the unit in her left hand. “Isn’t mine. I don’t know who it belongs to. This one—” He pointed to the one in her right hand. “
Is
mine. Go ahead. Turn it on and find out all my dirty secrets.”

Casey didn’t move. “But you’re the reporter. You’re the one with a job to do. A job that involves a girl. Me.” She turned toward him. A combination of hope and fear on her face. “If this isn’t yours, then there is someone else on board...” Casey pressed her hands, still filled with the BlackBerries, to her head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

* * * *

Casey turned from Mason and paced. Just how many reporters had followed her to Florida and onto this damned ship?

He or she could be anyone.

Maybe the message was innocent.

Time is running out. Get the girl and finish the job.

It was generic enough to mean anything. Maybe someone was using inside information on a business deal.

Crap, had she stolen some innocent person’s phone? She was a kleptomaniac in addition to the sex addict Mason was likely writing about in his story.

“Can I have my phone back?”

Mason’s words jolted her back to the weight room. She handed it over, looking again at the weird message about time, a girl and a job. Just because this didn’t belong to Mason, didn’t mean he wasn’t working her for his story. She had no reason to doubt Tyler’s word. He was an escort working toward his PhD. Ridiculous combination, but who would make that up? She’d seen him lie. He was terrible at it. Opening his eyes wide, fiddling with his hands. No, when he told her about Mason, he looked directly into her eyes. No lying there.

“So when were you going to tell me you’re working on a story about me?” She watched the color drain from Mason’s face. She was right. Or rather, Tyler was. But that didn’t matter. Mason was using her.

“I’m not, at least not anymore.”

“Because you already got the dirt on the sex-addict self-help writer who jumps people’s bones in public places?” To her own ears the words sounded harsh. How would anyone have respect for Cassandra Cash once the story was out? She obviously had no respect for herself.

“You’re not a sex addict.”

“Humph. But that’s what will make the best story. Don’t tell me you weren’t going to use it.” A sharp pain cut across her chest. More than anything else, she wanted Mason to tell her he wasn’t writing the story. That he wasn’t a reporter.

But he didn’t.

“I was brought on board to write a simple story about your latest book deal, but then the story about Nate hit a rival paper.” Mason tossed his phone up and down, catching it in his palm each time. “The story I was sent to write changed.”

Casey wanted to feel surprise when Mason admitted to being the reporter. She only felt hollow. “And you rolled with the punches.”

He shook his head. “And then I met you.”

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes at his words. Why was it so hard to stay angry at him?
And then I met you
. Right. What a load of crap. But still the tears threatened.

Mason reached his hand to her face, tracing her jaw with his thumb. “I couldn’t write about you being a sex addict unless I also wrote that I was using you for a story. I’m not using you, Casey. I’m not writing the story.”

“Right.” And Nate wasn’t using her for a headline, either. Only a part of her did believe him. The stupid part that could never see through a lying man.

“You’ve been hiding out on this ship.”

Like that was a surprise. Why shouldn’t she be hiding out? Nate’s story sent her on this wild ride, and then Jane added to the humiliation by hiring a lover for her. And instead of falling for the escort, she spilled the entire story to a reporter. She was riding in one huge, humiliating circle.

“What if I am? All anyone cares about are the rumors Nate’s been spreading—”

“You know that isn’t true,” Mason interrupted. “Name one person on this cruise who has talked to you about Nate and not about your books. You help people.”

Casey ignored the interruption. “This cruise was supposed to make me seem carefree. Recovered from a break-up. Instead, you’re going to paint the picture of a reckless woman who boffs a perfect stranger in broad daylight and comes back for more a few hours later.”

Mason shook his head and chuckled. “Actually it was dusk, and no one was around to see it.”

Great. Now he was laughing at her.

“Oh, excuse me. Public boffing at dusk is so much more socially acceptable.” Was he actually trying to defend his actions? “Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me you were the reporter? You let me think you were a plumber. How many other business cards to you have in your wallet? How did you know the plumber bit would work on me?”

“There was no cover. You found my dad’s card.
He’s
the plumber, along with my brothers. I never told you I was a plumber.”

“But you let me believe you were. Did you hope a few more sessions in your bed would loosen my tongue so you could get right to the heart of Cassandra Cash?”

Mason stepped forward, clenched his hands into fists and then stepped back. “How would I know how being in bed would make you react? We’ve been horizontal exactly once and then you kicked me out of the room so fast I barely had my fly zipped. And stop blaming me for this mess. Your agent set you up with the escort. I was sent to write an article on the business of publishing, and when the assignment changed, I declined to write it. We’re both dupes in this deal.”

“So no one back in New York is expecting the dirt on Cassandra Cash when we port in Jamaica?”

Mason ran his hands roughly through his hair, pulling it tight against his scalp for a second, then releasing it. “Technically my boss is still expecting the article. Service cut out before I could quit, and I’m glad it did. I think there’s a better story here.”

A sharp pain ricocheted through her heart. So he was writing the story. “Great. What lies are you going to make up about me to blow your boss out of the water?” She took a step back, shaking her head. It didn’t matter. All press was good press, that was the motto. So what if she didn’t believe it? Mason didn’t have to know that. “No, you know what? Do your worst. I don’t want to know. Just write your story, Mason. And I’ll sue you for libel.”

He stiffened. “How would you prove my story was a lie?”

“How would you prove it wasn’t? Your reputation for being, let’s say, lenient with the facts is already out there.”

Mason clenched his jaw and the vein at his temple went into overdrive. “Don’t you want to know what story I’m going to pitch to my editor when we reach Jamaica?”

“Not particularly.”

“Aren’t you a little bit scared your faithful readers will turn on you when everything comes out?”

They just want to know about the book
, Casey repeated to herself. He’s said it a million times. Now just start believing it. “Like you said, not one person on this cruise has asked about Nate. Or commented on the rumors. They only want to know about my books.”

She only hoped the same held true for the people back on the mainland, too. She turned back to him when she reached the door to the weight room. “As far as this farce of a cruise, it will be my word against yours, and at least I haven’t been accused of lying.”

She had to get off this crazy boat. Away from Mason. Tyler. Everyone. Casey needed to get back home, where she had some semblance of control over her life. Instead, she was stuck here in the middle of the ocean. She was dying to trust that Mason wouldn’t write the story. And knew without a doubt he would.

Then there was the fact that she was now a thief. Looking at the BlackBerry in her hand, Casey frowned. When she tried to turn the thing in to lost and found, no one was around. She couldn’t just leave it on the counter. The thing was valuable. Besides, she wasn’t entirely convinced the message had nothing to do with her.

“I need to see January,” she said, eyeing the woman guarding January’s office.

The woman shook her perfectly tinted blond head and frowned. “I’m sorry. She’s in a meeting. You’ll have to come back later.” The woman shook her head and flicked her wrist, dismissing Casey.

“I’m sorry, too, because I’m not leaving. I’ll wait in her office.” Casey pushed open the swinging counter door and hurried into the office marked
Cruise Director—Private
.

January could have all the privacy she wanted. Just as soon as she let Casey use the ship-to-shore phone.

She paced the tiny bit of open space in January’s office.

Going to find Mason before she’d tracked down January was stupid. She’d played her hand. He would be in twice the hurry to file his story now. Her only chance was to beat him to the punch, and in the midst of her anger at him she’d forgotten about one-upping and went for the win. There was no way her two-of-a-kind would beat his full house. His story would go to press.