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![]() Mason Foster stood in his woodshop listening to a voice on the phone. He wrote down some notes. "Okay," he said, "I'll be there on the first." Seeing Kelly walking in, he said a hurried goodbye and hung up the phone. "Who was that?" Kelly asked lightly, immediately sensing his covert mood. "Preston Niles," Mason replied. "He owns Back Bay Refinishers." "In Boston?" she asked. Mason nodded. "He offered me a job." He paused a moment. "I said I'd take it." Kelly froze. Words got caught in her throat. "What do you mean you're taking it?" "I'm going back, Kel. It's not working out for me here. I know it is for you. I don't want to hold you back." "But you're not!" she cried. Mason dropped his eyes to the floor. "We're not happy together," he said softly. "We've fallen into the same pattern we wrestled with back in Boston. Using work to run away from each other. Maybe we just need a break." Kelly said nothing. Might as well face it and let the pain in. |
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