Mason walked into Julia’s office when she was packing.
She had been anticipating the talk, and dreading it, and by the moment he did come, she was all boiling inside. Also, Julia was scared that the silver-tongued Mason could cajole her and talk her into staying. The same trap, all the time. With all her heart Julia wished to break the vicious chain of her life’s losses.
“What are you doing?” Mason wondered.
“Packing,” she said curtly.
“Is your office to be repaired?”
“No.”
“Have you been promoted, then?”
“Transferred.”
“Oh. Where to, if I may ask?”
“Boston.”
Julia threw another pile of books into a box, almost violently. And another. Mason was silent.
She looked up.
He was watching her, and his mien was absolutely unreadable. Julia waited for him to say something, but he did not, so she turned back to her shelves.
“Why?” he inquired then.
“Why not?”
He took a pause again. Then, locking his gaze in hers, “Running away from me?”
She exploded, “The EGO!!”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning: why should you think that anything I do must necessarily be connected with you? The world does not revolve around you, you know.”
“Prove it,” Mason said quietly.
“Prove it?”
“Stay.”
“Why?”
She slammed the books on the desk. Mason came closer and put his hand on hers.
“Why are you so angry with me, Julia?” he said gently. “Talk to me.”
Julia shook her head.
“I am not. I am sorry, Mason. Well… I talked to Smith, and it sounded like a great opportunity, and there’s nothing keeping me in Santa Barbara, so I--”
“Nothing,” Mason e echoed with a hint at sarcasm.
“I need a life,” she said icily. “I want my life.”
“I can understand that.” Once again, he was gentle.
“So--” she stumbled.
“So, why are you running away from it?”
“From WHAT?”
“From your life, Julia!”
He was standing a little bit too close for her to be able to think clearly. Otherwise she could have come up with a witty retort; thousands of variants.
“I would run to it head on* ”, she said bitterly instead. “Then I'd get hurt and crawl back miserably to lick my wounds.”
“I understand,” Mason said again, very softly and very kindly.
Then he leant and kissed her.

*
If you came to think of it, this was exactly what should have been expected. Mason was a phrase monger all right, but that ‘silver tongue’ of his could serve other purposes just as well, if not better.
However, for some reason, this was something Julia had not expected at all. Probably she had overdone convincing herself Mason was cold and indifferent. Now she felt giddy and weak at the knees, so she drew back.
Mason stepped back, too, eyeing her like a predator.
“Mr Capwell,” she mastered.
“Ms Wainwright,” he mimicked her.
“I’d be very grateful if you shut the door on your way out; I need to finish packing,” she said hating herself.
“Ok,” was all he said as he walked out.
Julia collapsed on the chair and congratulated herself: whatever the damage, she had actually survived the talk.

* - based remotely on what Nancy said about Julia

/Olga Lisenkova/

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