Heart's Masquerade Read online

  Torrian scanned the living room and found that Jaz had set up a tiny five-foot tree in the corner, under which was four boxes of various sizes. He sighed in relief. “You have four for me. That’s not bad.”

  “Um, two of those are mine. Sorry, I spent most of my funds on the kids. Maybe you should take some of that back.” She nodded at his bags, and he straightened.

  “If you don’t like them, you can give them away, but all of these are yours.” Torrian refused to hear another word and set the packages under the tree. After Jaz had rewarded him with another kiss and a tormenting wiggle on his lap, they enjoyed hot chocolate and a piece of the pie she’d made herself in front of the TV. He wondered when he would lose his mind in this closet room over the next couple of days.

  “Jazara,” he began and stopped.

  She curled at his side, sipping the hot beverage and focused on the screen. He thought she seemed content, and he didn’t want to disturb her happiness. “Hmm?”

  “Would you like to know more about me?”

  She froze. Big brown eyes flicked to his gaze, and he saw fear in their depths. Pain tightened in his chest. He never wanted to hurt her or leave her afraid, but would she feel like Kenny? Would she think he didn’t belong here anymore or with her? Since the day he threatened his cousin, he had run across him a couple times. In each meeting, Kenny pretended he didn’t see Torrian and kept walking. His friends didn’t even acknowledge Torrian’s existence.

  Jaz spoke with people who had a lot more money to give to charity all the time. The practice was a part of her job, but he had also heard her say rich people just didn’t understand the pain of needing and not knowing where the answer would come from. He knew of course because he’d been there, but how would Jaz view him? To uncover who he was seemed insurmountable, and logic told him he was probably making it more than it needed to be. However, logic didn’t part his lips and force him to speak the truth either.

  “I…” She began, and the doorbell rang.

  Jaz set her cup down and popped to her feet. He knew she ran away from him when she went to answer. Yasmine and her kids were behind the door when Jaz opened it, and all of a sudden the tiny room grew smaller still with so many people.

  “What are you doing here, Yasmine?” Torrian was surprised to hear an awkward note in Jaz’s tone. “I thought we were seeing you on Thursday.”

  Yasmine seemed about to hug Jaz and changed her mind. Jaz leaned in and stalled as well. In the end, they hugged and kissed each other’s cheeks more like acquaintances than sisters. Torrian frowned watching them.

  “No,” Yasmine said, “stupid Lamont is fighting me on the kids. He wants to spend Christmas with them, and so do I. So we came to an agreement.”

  “What kind of agreement?”

  Yasmine glanced at the kids and back to her sister. She wrung her hands, and he suddenly comprehended that while she knew it wasn’t Jaz’s fault that her husband wanted her sister, a part of her still blamed Jaz. He despised the weakness but held his opinion to himself.

  “We’re all spending it together.”

  “Yasmine! You can’t spend the holiday with that bastard. You should be with your family who loves you. And the kids.”

  “I’ve made my decision. I just came over here to give you your present from me and the kids.”

  Torrian watched Jaz’s face fall, but then she smiled and kept smiling. She entertained the kids, fed them, and did her best to talk to her sister. He noted Jaz didn’t pressure Yasmine into changing her mind. She enjoyed the time together and eventually bid them good-bye. When they were alone again, Torrian pulled Jaz onto his lap and held her tight.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She wound her arms about his neck and buried her face against his throat. When she spoke, her voice was muffled, but he understood her. “He ruined everything, and it’s still going on. Who knows how long he’s going to keep fighting her. They’ve been doing it from the beginning, and I guess we should be used to it, but…”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, stroking her hair. She didn’t move or look up. He decided now wasn’t the time to talk to her about himself. “How about this? You can open one present early.”

  She looked up and laughed. “That’s what kids get to do the night before Christmas.”

  “It’s what Jazara is going to do now,” he corrected.

  Jaz climbed off his lap and dropped to her knees before the tree. “Okay, I admit it. I’m excited. Which one, which one? The littlest or the biggest?”

  “Your decision.” He grinned, enjoying watching her. His cell phone rang, and he tugged it from his pocket to check the display. Niles was calling. A look at Jaz showed she watched him. He couldn’t ignore the call or she would become suspicious. “Hello?”

  “Sir, I just watched the weather report. We’re in for a blizzard starting at two a.m. tonight, at least eighteen inches. You’ll get stuck. Maybe I should come get you.”

  “It’s fine, Niles. I’ll stay.”

  “But, sir…”

  “I said I’m okay.”

  “Then I insist when you’re ready, I come exactly to the location you are to pick you up.”

  “We’ll talk about it on Wednesday. Good-bye.”

  Torrian disconnected the call and found Jaz’s eyes on him. He saw her curiosity and her hesitance to ask who it was on the phone. She grabbed a present and dropped into the spot beside him. At first she fingered the poor wrapping job, and then she met his gaze with boldness.

  “Who was that?”

  Torrian didn’t think ahead or decide consciously he would lie. He just did and regretted it the second the words dropped from his lips. “My godfather.”

  “His name is Niles? Cool name. I like it.”

  He felt sick. “Hey.”

  “Hmm?” She peered up at him, and his heart stirred.

  “I’ll spend Christmas with you, at your parents’ place. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

  “Only if it’s what you want, too,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Sure, why not? It will be fun.”

  She seemed to bubble with happiness. “Great! Now let’s talk about how much you suck at wrapping gifts.”

  Torrian growled and reached for her. She screamed and tossed the gift on the couch before running off down the hall. He leaped to his feet in hot pursuit and with every intention of having the best holiday a man had ever enjoyed. All with the most amazing woman on the planet—Jazara Crane.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fall had changed to winter, and winter had eventually given way to spring. Jaz had no idea where the time went. All she knew was she and Torrian lived inside some kind of fairytale. She knew they were kind of hiding out, but at the same time, it was so much fun. He came to her place and stayed days at a time when he could. Sometimes he received calls from Niles, and she knew it was Niles calling because she could hear his voice if not his words over the line. She’d seen his name flashing on the screen. Yet, she knew there was something Torrian kept from her. After while she started thinking he was married with an estranged wife or one that cheated, too. She hated believing that about him, and he didn’t seem like the type. Her deductions of how he behaved and how he spoke said he was educated. His ignorance of some basics she dealt with every day said he made more money than she did. Maybe he was a manager at some big, important firm.

  Aside from all of it, Jaz came to the conclusion that just to hold on a little bit longer, she accepted what they had. There were no broken dates, no weird calls in the middle of the night, no obvious lies. He gave her a lot of time, both at the center and at home. He had even allowed her to call his cell at all hours, and she had so tested that bad boy out when he did. Not once had she had a strange woman answer.

  So, she accepted him, as he was, and enjoyed their time together. Their sex life was insanely wonderful, and they both learned to cook a little bit because Torrian refused to live on takeout. Jaz didn’t mind. With him at her side and in her kitchen,
they had had a blast. She didn’t want it ever to end, or change for that matter. Still, with spring here, it was time for new beginnings. She was not the type of woman to bury her head in the sand, and yet, she’d done it for months. Time to set things right.

  Jaz climbed out of bed and walked to the window. The one in her bedroom overlooked the small gap between her building and the next, but she got a narrow view of the sky. Puffy white clouds hung in a vast blanket of blue, and from the level of light, she guess the sun shined. The weatherman called for temperatures in the low seventies all week. Maybe Torrian might like a picnic.

  Jaz had scarcely finished brushing her teeth and was still dressed in her robe when a banging started at the front door. “Sheesh, it’s seven in the morning. Who the heck could that be?” Torrian had left at five thirty, and she missed him.

  Glenda shouting through the door brought Jaz up short, and she considered not answering and pretending she was still in bed. That wouldn’t work, of course because she needed to get into the office on time. Not to mention Glenda was liable to disturb the other neighbors if she didn’t shut up.

  “She’ll just stalk me until I leave anyway.” Jaz groaned and unlocked the door. When she opened it, she met a sight she did not want to see—her neighbor in rollers and a green, cracked facial mask. “I think you forgot to wash your face.”

  Glenda thrust a sheet of paper at her. “Take a look at this. I printed it out. You know I don’t buy the paper when I can get the news online, but this jumped out at me when I went to log into my e-mail this morning! Read it!”

  “Secret lover,” Jaz began, but Glenda cut her off.

  “Look at the picture. It’s you and Torrian.”

  A cold chill raced over Jaz, and she stared at the picture, an obvious snapshot of Torrian leaving her place and turning back to give her a kiss. The question was why would this be news. She found out quickly as Glenda babbled and her own eyes confirmed the report. “CEO and chief stockholder of Koracom Electronics has been spotted in South Boston with…”

  Jaz couldn’t believe her eyes. Her name had been given in the article, if not her address. The picture showed her face for the entire world to see, and no one could mistake the identity of the man who kissed her. Torrian’s stats were given, his estimated worth, where he lived—among the rich and famous of Boston—and the only good thing she could glean from this disaster was that he was indeed a bachelor.

  “Did you know, Jaz?” Glenda asked. “That he has money?”

  Jaz didn’t look up from the page, but her vision blurred, and she could no longer read the words. Confusion, fear, and hurt vied for attention in her head and heart. Somewhere behind her, her cell phone rang, but she didn’t move. Then several clicks caught her attention. She looked up into the face of a person with a camera aimed at her.

  “Ms. Crane, do you have any comments on the nature of your relationship with Torrian Donnelly?”

  “Nature?” she whispered.

  “Yes.” The man had the boldness to walk up onto her steps. “Do you think he was doing what they call ‘slumming’ with you?”

  “Now that’s just mean,” Glenda said and inserted herself between Jaz and the reporter. She put her hands on her hips and didn’t even flinch when the man snapped off a shot of her face. “I’m sure Jaz knew everything there was to know about Torrian. They’ve been together a long time, like six or seven months.”

  “Oh?” The reporter noted this fact in a notebook he held.

  Jaz shook herself. “Glenda, stop talking!” She faced the reporter. “I have nothing to say. Please get off my property.”

  “It’s not really yours is it?” he shot back. “I mean Torrian Donnelly didn’t actually buy you a house or anything. He just kept visiting this little apartment, keeping you where you belong and him where he does.”

  For the man’s pains, Jaz raised her hand to smack him, but Glenda beat her to it. The man landed on his ass on the sidewalk, and he cradled his camera like a baby. Jaz spun on her heel, marched into the house, and slammed the door on both of them.

  Her cell phone rang again. She looked for it and found it on the bedside table. Three missed calls from numbers she didn’t recognize. Someone had left a voice mail. At first she hesitated to check, but the little emblem that said it existed always annoyed her. Even if one swiped it away, the stupid thing returned until the message was cleared.

  To her surprise, the voice mail came from Lamont. “Hey, Jaz, I heard about your problem with that white guy. I warned you, didn’t I? Listen, I’m the only one that knows you and cares about you. Let me come over. I’m free now. Yasmine and I have filed for divorce. Call me. This is my new number. Give us a chance.”

  Her stomach churned. She erased the voice mail and put the number on block. Another call came in before she could put the phone down. This time it was Torrian. For long moments, she stood there staring at his name. Her heart raced so hard it hurt. She licked her lips, hands shaking. When the call switched to voice mail, she sank down onto the bed and kept watching the screen. No symbol popped up. Instead, Torrian called again, and again.

  Torrian.

  She cried. He shouldn’t get her tears, and maybe she should be pissed at him, but rather than that, she couldn’t stop weeping. Rocking and hugging herself, she curled up on the bed. After a long time, she showered, dressed, and walked to the front door. After making sure the reporter was gone, she slipped from the apartment and started down the street. As soon as she turned the corner, a hand shot out to grab her arm. She yelped and leaped back, fists raised.

  “Whoa, Jaz, don’t hit the messenger.”

  She blinked at Kenny. “What do you want?”

  “You’re not answering my stupid cousin’s calls.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So he got you to do his dirty work?”

  He shrugged. “He offered me money.”

  “Why should he have to? Aren’t you family?”

  “Oh, so you’re still willing to make excuses for him after he used you.”

  “He didn’t use…” She fell silent, not knowing what to think.

  When she started walking again, Kenny fell into step beside her. His sneakers were old and worn. She wondered if he was holding down a job lately and figured if he wasn’t, that might be why he was willing to pass on a message to her from Torrian.

  She stated the obvious. “You don’t like him.”

  “He got everything. I got nothing.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little juvenile?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t give a fuck. He doesn’t belong around here, and he proved it. He didn’t tell you where he lives, did he? I happen to know his chauffeur brings him over this side and drops him off. If he had nothing to hide, why do that? If he was proud to call you his girl, why not let everybody know?”

  Jaz felt like Kenny shot bullets into her heart. “Is that what he paid you to come tell me?”

  He glared at her. “No. Here.”

  He handed her a card. Jaz read it. “Torrian’s business card? Everyone knows who he is now, including me.”

  “On the back, stupid.”

  She flipped it over to see Torrian had handwritten a phone number.

  “Call that number. Tell him where you are. He’ll pick you up and take you to Torrian.”

  “Why all the subterfuge?”

  Kenny swore. “It was all about the sex between you two, wasn’t it? Because you’re not very bright.”

  She gritted her teeth.

  “Reporters. He’s a big shot that keeps a low profile, so when something juicy comes up they’re all over him. You’re the wicked flavor of the month. I said what I had to. Later.”

  Jaz stood where Kenny left her, thinking about what he said and what everyone believed. The truth was, she didn’t want to face Torrian and hear for herself that he had been using her. To know he had kept his real life from her hurt a lot. She’d known there were secrets, and she had thought he was just some manager. His level in business s
cared the crap out of her. She longed to just go to the center and get back to work. Somehow even the thought of fighting for the kids didn’t calm her spirit. No, she needed to talk to Torrian and vent some of the frustration and anger of waking up to a serious invasion of her privacy.

  After working half the morning, giving her boss and those she worked with the bare minimum of details of what happened, she begged for time off and pulled the business card from her pocket and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” she said, and cleared her throat when she sounded like a frightened lamb. “This is Jazara Crane. I was asked to give you a call. I’m trying to meet with Torrian Donnelly.”

  “Hello, Ms. Crane, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Niles.”

  She gasped. Torrian’s godfather. “Yes, thanks.” She had no idea what to say. She hadn’t heard much about him other than to know he called Torrian a few times while he was at her apartment.

  “It’s better if we meet somewhere, and I’ll take you to Torrian,” Niles explained. “If I just show up at your home or work, then…”

  “No, I understand.” She arranged the place and managed to brush off Rhashon, who had showed up at the outreach center demanding Torrian’s address so he could go beat him to a pulp. To her relief, she was able to slip out the back of the building where they rented offices and get to the address she had given to Niles. From the moment the sleek BMW turned the corner, she knew she was in over her head.

  Niles, an elderly man with a leathery face but kind hazel eyes, greeted her and held the door open while she climbed into the car. He shut it and shuffled back to the driver seat. They pulled off, and she clutched her purse to her, giving a small chuckle.

  “I have to admit I expected a limo.”

  He met her gaze in the rearview mirror and smiled. “This is less conspicuous.”

  “In what world?”

  He didn’t respond.