The Mason Dixon Line (A Horizons Novel) Read Online Free Page B

now. Did her insurance even cover theft? She didn’t know.
She gnawed on her lip. She was broke. Next payday, she could pay down her
credit card to give her enough room under the limit to rent a car, but what was
she supposed to do until then? The coffee in her stomach soured.
    “Looks like you’re going to be driving the
Deathmobile for a while then.”
    She shook her head. “I can’t. It’s my
neighbor’s car. Mrs. Powell is 83 years old. She needs it.”
    She pulled her cell phone out of her purse
again. “Guess I’ll call my dad.” Yet she stood there, looking at her phone, not
dialing.
    “Well?” She didn’t answer. “What are you
waiting for? Call your dad.”
    She bit her lip and didn’t speak. Dammit.
Calling her dad again for help was
the last thing she wanted to do, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t get
around for a week with no car, and truly couldn’t afford a rental. She stared
at the pavement as if it might solve her problems.
    “You okay? Hey, really.” He nudged her arm.
“It’s a car. No big deal. It’s just stuff, right?”
    “It’s not that.” The words came out rough. “It’s
my dad.”
    “What? Your dad a jerk or something?”
    “No.” Not
really. A little controlling maybe . Feeling guilty for the thought, she
insisted, “He’s a nice guy. But I call him a lot. For money,” she clarified at
his blank look.
    “Oh. You’re pushing thirty and don’t like
calling him for help.”
    “Pushing thirty?” She glared at him. “Let’s
not make it worse than it is. I’m twenty-four. I’m still rounding down to
twenty.” It was already bad enough. Twenty-four was still too old to have no idea what you wanted to do with your
life, and to be calling dad for help every week.
    “So if you’re not going to call your dad,
and you can’t keep your neighbor’s car, what are you going to do? Rent one?”
    “I guess so,” she said, unable to hide her
lack of enthusiasm. She paused a beat. “Maybe I have enough room under my
credit limit to afford a rental car?” She calculated for a moment. “Do they
usually want a deposit?” God, she was pathetic. Twenty-four and not enough
juice on her credit card to rent a compact car for a week.
    “Why bother with all that? Why don’t you
come stay with me?”
    “What?” Surely she hadn’t heard that right.
    “I’m in town from Chicago, but I’m staying
at my aunt’s summer home. It’s a cabin south of here, about forty-five minutes.
She offered it to me because she knew I’d be working and want a place free of
distractions.”
    Uh-oh. She studied his face but didn’t see
anything other than sincerity and a lot of stubble. “Is this some kind of
come-on?”
    “Please,” he scoffed. “It’s not like I want
in your pants or something. I think we’ve established that you’re not my type.”
    “True.” She drew the word out, obviously
thinking. “And you’re hardly mine.”
    His eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if
she’d hurt him, but that couldn’t be. She’d simply repeated what he’d said
about her. How could he take offense?
    “This will give us time to work on the
project. We’ll need to spend a lot of time together. This way, we won’t have to
spend all week driving back and forth.”
    “True.” She eyed him. Mason might be
annoying, but he wasn’t dangerous, she was certain. He was an artist, for Pete’s
sake. What was he going to do, whap her over the head with a sketch book and
drag her off to have his way with her?
    Besides, his aunt was Marjorie Freeman, a
pillar of the community and a major Horizons donor. Not a woman to be trifled
with. She wouldn’t let her nephew get away with anything shady. One word to Mrs.
Freeman about any hijinks on his part, and he’d be limping back to Chicago.
    “Can you bring me back to Indy after spring
break is over?”
    “Of course. After spending the week
together, I’m sure I’ll be delighted to get rid of you.”
    She scowled. “The feeling will