My Best Friend's Brother(3)By: Amy Brent
“So you created a social media campaign,” I said. “Did you have a prototype when you created it?”
“Nope. Just some designs, schematics, and an incredibly detailed professional video of how the technology was supposed to work.”
“And by professional you mean …?”
“Me sitting in front of a camera and stuttering out my idea,” he said, grinning.
Laughter trickled through the audience again as I shook my head.
“Please, call me Mason,” he said.
“Mason,” I corrected, “did you ever think it could become this big of a success?”
“No. Not in a million years. I just wanted to find my wallet, and that was it. Even if I made this product and was the only one who used it, at least I’d solved my problem. But apparently, people lose things all the time.”
“Have you ever gotten any reviews about the product where someone had stuck your product on something odd?” I asked.
“Define odd,” he said, smirking.
“You have a list of items on the back of the packaging. Everything from phones to children’s backpacks. Anything not on this list you’ve heard of your product being used on?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’m not sure they’re very appropriate for a daytime talk show,” he said.
I quirked my eyebrow, wholly curious as to what he was talking about.
“I think you’d enjoy it. Maybe I could tell you after the show,” he said, grinning.
“What do you attribute your success to?” I wasn’t about to travel down that road. I’d sworn off men the moment I caught my ex-host slobbering all over the man I had been dating at the time. I was over playboys and their innocent facades. Mason didn’t even make the attempt to be innocent. His playboy ways were known, especially the scandals that were already surfacing in the media.
“Myself and Tony,” he said.
“You mean Anthony Thomas,” I said.
“Yes. He and I co-own the company. I went to many people with the idea, and he was the only one who supported it,” he said.
“What about your parents?” I asked.
For a split second, he paused. It was a blip on the radar. A momentary lapse where I realized I’d asked a question that delved into a part of his life he probably didn’t want to talk about.
But now the question was out there, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
“My father supported it like he’s supported all things in my life, but Tony was the one willing to get in on the action and help me do something about it.”
I knew enough about bad familial situations to not press why he didn’t mention his own mother. Though I had to admit, I was curious.
“So, the infamous question. Does this affect Dallas?” I asked.
“I don’t know. What do you think?” he asked as he crossed one long leg over the other.
“I think it most certainly does. Texas is in the heart of child abduction country. We are surrounded by states known for trafficking children, both into Mexico and back up into the States. It’s a rampant problem that doesn’t get enough attention, and I believe your product could really raise awareness about it.”
“I didn’t know that about this area of the country,” he said. “I’ll definitely have to look into it.”
“You should. This is why I think your product is brilliant.”
“Brilliant, huh?” he asked, grinning.
“Yes. Because of the way the technology radios out to cell towers, you can clock wherever this device goes so long as you have it programmed into the application you download. I could see hundreds of uses for this product in law enforcement, the military, and in general, keeping the public safe. Especially our children.”
I felt his eyes hard on me as I leaned back into my seat. I was getting too personal. Too emotional. I had to reign it in before we took our last commercial break.
“Mason Baker, thank you so much for being here with us,” I said as I stuck out my hand.
“The pleasure is all mine, I can assure you,” he said as he took my hand.
The electricity that shot up my arm made me grateful that I was wearing a jacket.
Holy fuck, Sarah Williams was much hotter in person. Those perfectly pouty lips and that cute little button nose and those dark-rimmed glasses that framed those dark blue eyes. Hell, I had a very hard time focusing on that interview. Her legs were long and thick, the way I liked them on a woman. I wanted a woman who enjoyed her cheeseburger before she burned off the calories riding my cock. And that shoulder-length black hair? Fucking hell, I had to take deep breaths during all the commercial breaks to keep my cock at bay.