BLIND: A Mastermind Novel

by Lydia Michaels

“She talked, I listened. Jesus, Asher, that woman loved you. Every damn note you sent, she’d hold it to her heart and try to scent you in the paper. She gladly tied on that stupid blindfold just to go to you, to spend one measly night in your presence. Do you know how lucky you were to have a woman that dedicated to you? And you destroyed it. You destroyed her.”

  He couldn’t breathe. Steve was wrong. He had to be wrong. “She didn’t love me,” he rasped, desperately waiting for Steve to confirm. “She loved a fantasy.”

  “She loved you, you shmuck. It doesn’t matter what name you go by, she fell for the man she thought you were. That man was you, Asher.”

  He didn’t know that! How was he supposed to believe in something when there was no tangible proof? “Then why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Love isn’t something you say. It’s something you feel. You’re a smart guy. Don’t be naïve.”

  Breath jagged, shoulders tensed, he tried to understand. The episode in the coffee shop raced through his head like a steel train, shaking him to the core. Westerman asked for her number and she wrote something down. She smiled and acted agreeable to seeing Westerman again. People in love didn’t make dates with other men. She should have told that prick to get fucked—

  He suddenly saw himself hiding in the shadows; too afraid to even pass the bully his credit card in the chance he might recognize his name. Why was it okay for him to hide, but he expected her to confront someone three times her size who’d hurt her in the past? He was a hypocrite.

  Credit card...

  He slowly panted as he replayed the moment in slow motion. She didn’t give him her number. She signed the receipt. Chills chased up his spine and down his arms. Could he have misread her response? Maybe that was how she dealt with people like Westerman, humored them, pacified them with a smile in order to escape unscathed as quickly as possible.

  A cold sweat blanketed him. What have I done?

  His face dropped to his palms as Steve’s feet crept into his view.

  His mind worked, rapidly trying to recall everything he’d said. Maybe she wasn’t as upset as Steve imagined. Maybe there was still time to fix this. “I need to talk to her.”

  “You destroyed her. I picked up a woman full of life and returned a hollow shell of the girl she was. She doesn’t want you to contact her anymore.”

  “I thought…” He couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t know she cared that much. I didn’t trust…” He exhaled harshly. “I don’t know how to trust people. How was I supposed to know how she really felt?”

  “Did you ask her? Did you tell her how you felt? Did you offer the slightest respect of actually talking to her?”

  He swallowed. “I was too afraid.”

  “In the beginning, you said we’d talk about further investments down the line if I could make you like the man you saw in the mirror. Do you like him, Ash? Because tonight, I’m not sure I do. If you’re really that much of a coward, she is too good for you.” He dropped an envelope on the table. “There’s my resignation.”

  With every step Steve took, Asher’s pain became more pronounced. His treachery bled into every aspect of his life until he felt like the life had been ripped out of him. And he had no one to blame but himself.

  The door closed. Alone again. Denial choked him. Falling to his side, he pulled at his hair. He wanted to scream and hit something. Maybe there was still time.

  Scrambling to his feet, he reached for his phone, frantically patting down each pocket. It wasn’t there. He ran to the door, knocking into furniture as he raced out of the house and skidded into his car. Flipping forward the seat, he searched.

  His heart thundered with a sense of urgency. Twenty-four hours ago he had everything he’d ever wanted. Now he had nothing. She was his everything and without her—

  The screen of his phone glinted from the shadows. Snatching the device, he willed his fingers to stop trembling as he quickly dialed her number. He’d beg if he had to.

  Breathing fast, he waited as it rang. Each unanswered ring was another stab in his bleeding heart. Voicemail picked up and he dialed again. “Fuck!”

  On the fifth attempt a voice finally answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Scarlet—”

  “Who is this?” a female voice hissed, deep loathing in her tone.

  “I need to speak to Scarlet.”

  Silence. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Stone.”

  “Nicole?”

  “Scarlet doesn’t want to speak to you.”

  “I need—”

  “I don’t care what you fucking need you sick, twisted son of a bitch. Who do you think you are? You’re lucky she can’t tell me who did this to her because I’d hunt you down and crazy murder you, you perverted fuck.”

  “You don’t understand!” he pleaded.

  “I understand. She told me everything. Leave her alone or I’ll call the police. Do you understand me? Leave. Her. Alone.”

  His chest constricted. This couldn’t be it. “I was wrong.”

  “Too late. Come near her again and my husband will throw your ass in jail.” The line went dead.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hindsight

  “Asher?”

  “Ash?”

  “Ash—shit,” Jet said as he, Elliot, and Hunter stumbled to a halt inside the ballroom. It wasn’t good.

  Jet approached slowly. “Hey, bud. How you holding up?”

  He glared at them and tipped back the bottle filling his hand. His sense of flavor disappeared somewhere around bottle nine, so he couldn’t be sure what he was drinking. Hopefully, it was poison and the pain would soon end.

  Elliot noticeably analyzed the room. “You have a bed in a ballroom.”

  He ignored him.

  “So it’s been quiet at work. When you thinking about coming back?” Hunter asked, appearing as if this was all quite ordinary. “We, uh, miss you.”

  “Yeah,” Jet nodded. “Maybe coming into the office for a few hours would get your mind off things.”

  “Scarlet,” he mumbled. “My minds not on things. It’s on Scarlet.”

  Elliot rolled his eyes. “I told you this was a bad idea—”

  “Leave him alone, Elliot,” Jet warned.

  Hunter read the label off one of the many bottles piled on the table and placed it back with the others. “So you’re staying here now? Wouldn’t you rather be home, where your stuff is?”

  “It reminds me of her.” It was all he had left.

  Asher was supposed to be a smart guy, but there had never been a greater jackass. Proving himself to Scarlet was supposed to be an exercise in redemption. It was supposed to make him whole, take away the sense that he’d never be enough.

  Clearly he failed. Since bringing her back into his life, the memories were relentless, his failures inescapable. The nightmares were so vivid and traumatic he hadn’t slept in days. Everything was safer when he’d shut off his emotions. He’d give anything to have that peace back now.

  “Why not go to her if you’re this miserable?” Jet asked.

  “I can’t. She hates me.”

  “You made a mistake. You’re human,” Hunter said.

  He shook his head. “No, I hurt her. I wanted her to love me and I was too blind to see I succeeded. Too fucking scared to trust it. After asking so much of her she’ll never forgive me for not trusting her enough to open up.” He laughed coldly. “Ironic, she wore the blindfold and I was the one that couldn’t see what was right in front of me.”

  “So tell her that,” Jet pushed. “Maybe she’ll hear you out. If you hurt her, she had to care on some level.”

  “The man she wanted, the man she believed I was, would have never hurt her. The moment I stopped thinking like Stone and started acting like Roan I fucked everything up.”

  “How long is this gonna go on?”

  “Elliot!” both Jet and Hunter snapped.

  Ash waved away their defensiveness. “It’s okay. I know I’m shirking off a l
ot of my responsibilities. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect this to spiral so far out of control like this.” If only they knew this inexplicable pain, this constant worry for someone he couldn’t reach.

  “I’m just asking because we have the Technology in the Classroom approval coming up and you said we’d all be a part of the decision process.”

  He laughed. That was Elliot, always playing by the rules. If only his friend could be passionate about something else for a change. But who was he to hand out advice. “I’ll send for the paperwork tomorrow and read through the proposals. I’ll make a selection by the end of the week.”

  “The deadlines in a month,” Hunter announced. “You have some time.”

  It didn’t matter. A week, a month, a year, eventually he’d have to get back to reality and accept that this was his life.

  In the back of his mind he hoped that if he could recover in time, so could she. There was some cockeyed formulation convincing him that the sooner he did that, the sooner she’d be whole again. More than anything, he wanted her whole and happy, as if he’d never interrupted her life at all. He loved her enough to wish that for her, even though the thought of her forgetting he existed killed him.

  ****

  “Scarlet, can I talk to you?”

  Her body naturally tensed, every little encounter with others seeming to throw her off balance these days. It didn’t matter who approached her. While the rest of the world continued to spin, she was falling apart on the inside and would rather be left alone.

  Calvin Armstrong, her superior and principal, wasn’t a bad guy, but after the most unfortunate turn of events in her personal life, she’d made the educated decision that all men sucked.

  As he approached, her mind analyzed him like the computer of an underworld spy.

  Calvin Armstrong:

  Mid-thirties; dark hair, attractive, likely a briefs man, recently divorced, no children, possibly an early ejaculator.

  Qualities of Mr. Stone: Less than 30%

  Likelihood of being a scum sucking man with commitment phobias…

  Calculating…

  9,875% probable.

  ABORT!

  Did she mention she was back to being jaded and cynical?

  She tucked away the last of her students’ paperwork and pasted on a fake smile like she always did in uncomfortable situations—grin, bear it, and get the hell out. He was her boss, after all. “Sure, Calvin, come in.”

  His clothing confirmed his higher salary as he strode into her classroom, his tailored slacks sculpting perfectly to his lean thighs. She, on the other hand, had rapidly packed on sixteen pounds and developed a dangerous addiction to Tasty Cakes. It was pretty bad. She was even licking the wrappers in private.

  Every day she swore off sweets and takeout, but every day she came to the utterly depressing realization that she really didn’t give a fuck. She was going to die a spinster. Que sera, ser—fucking-ra.

  “Can you believe spring’s finally here?” Calvin sidled up to her desk at the front of the classroom and perched on the edge.

  Dear God. Bathing suit season was coming. Yet another joy…

  No. She couldn’t believe it. Thirty-four days since her world came crashing down and her life had not moved. Some days the jolting reality of the hollow, decaying heart inside of her chest was staggering. Other days, it was just life. She’d dig her spoon into another pint of fattening comfort and truck on. God, she hated men.

  “Yup. It’s been a long year.”

  He grinned. “You had a pretty good group of kids this year.”

  Everything inside of her wanted to scowl. What do you want? “They’re wonderful.”

  He hesitated and scooped up the small wooden apple a student had given her during her first year of teaching. “Scarlet…”

  He was really struggling. He didn’t typically have that look of worry—oh shit! Was she getting laid off? Forcing out a slow breath, she tried for cajoling. Losing her job would simply push her over the edge. She smiled and tipped her head thoughtfully. “Calvin, is there something you need to tell me?”

  He placed the apple on the desk and appeared to refocus. “Yes.” His throat cleared. “I want you to know that—what I’m about to ask you—you have every right to say no and I won’t be offended if you do.”

  “Okay,” she answered slowly. What the hell was this?

  “I wanted to see if you’d be interested in having dinner with me.”

  Her brows lifted betraying her shock. That was not at all what she expected. “Oh.”

  “I understand this isn’t the most brilliant invitation, but I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now and I just figured, to hell with it. I’m single. You’re single—oh, God, you are single, right?”

  Her lips pursed as her eyebrows returned to their customary position. “I’m single.” Always single.

  “Like I said, if you say no, I’d totally understand.”

  “I’m flattered,” she admitted. She was on some level, behind all the shock and relief that she wasn’t getting bad news. Calvin Armstrong had thought about asking her out? For a while? A sharp pinch jolted her heart.

  But it’s not him.

  Per usual, whenever she thought of him, the world turned quiet and seemed to float away. Mr. Stone.

  He’d crushed her, lifted her up higher than she’d ever been, worshipped her, and then... Nothing. She’d given him every piece of her soul, and it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want her, didn’t need her. There really was nothing more frustrating than still wanting him to a degree that seemed like need. It was some sick fantasy to him, but to her it was real. Nothing fake could ever hurt so much.

  “Scarlet?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I drifted for a minute.”

  “So it’s a no then?” He grinned politely, but what seemed genuine disappointment shown in his eyes.

  Nothing about him is genuine. He. Is. A. Man.

  He’s also your boss.

  Crap. “Can I think about it?”

  His shoulders perked up under his tweed jacket. “Of course. I understand—what, with us being colleagues and all—that it’s a fairly big decision. I want you to know, our association outside of school would be completely private. No one else would need to know.”

  Her mouth tightened. More secrets. See? They’re all sneaky. Go ahead, Scarlet, be another man’s dirty secret.

  Attempting to disguise the trembling of her hand, she smiled. “I’ll let you know. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I really have to finish these papers.”

  “Of course.” He stood, a hint of premature victory to his step. When he reached the door he paused. “Oh, and Scarlet, I forgot to tell you. We got the approval for the OddSquad grant. Next week a shipment of three hundred tablets are coming in and some of the CEOs from GeekPeek are coming in for the launch.”

  They won? Her proposal won? Her chest filled with deep satisfaction, an almost forgotten emotion. “That’s fabulous news!”

  She’d worked so hard on writing the material for that grant program. Their students would benefit hugely from having such tools at their disposal. While her life outside the classroom was in the gutter, moments like this made her proud of the things she accomplished in her field. “This is huge.”

  Calvin nodded. “You did good, Ms. Farrow. We’re going to need a few teachers to take the training course. Should I put you on the list?”

  “Definitely!” She had no doubt the future of learning rested in technology. She wanted to be as savvy as possible when it came to helping the kids and other staff understand.

  “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Armstrong.”

  Once he left she was too excited to focus on the papers she should have been grading. Although she typically returned assignments in record turnaround time, her students would understand. For the first time in weeks, she was truly happy about something.

  When she got on the road she dialed Nicole.
/>   “Hello?”

  “Hey. Guess what!”

  “Well, aren’t you in a chipper mood? What?”

  “We got the grant!” Her feet stomped on the floorboard of her car as she squealed. She wished she could honk her horn and let the world know how big of a deal this was.

  The company that managed OddSquad, also the founders of GeekPeek, the largest, most lucrative social network on the planet, was only offering the tablet program to one school in each district. Scarlet had obsessed over the grant writing, desperately wanting their school to be chosen.

  “That’s great, Lettie. Did you just find out?”

  Of course her friend didn’t share her enthusiasm, but that was fine. “Yeah. Calvin came into my office to—get this—ask me out, and then he told me and—”

  “Wait, wait, wait, wait! Who’s Calvin and did you say he asked you out?”

  “He’s my principal and yes, but I don’t think I’m going to go—”

  “Of course you’re going.”

  “No, I’m not there yet, Nicole. I’m still fragile and way too cynical. If I saw a penis right now I might snap it like a pencil.”

  “Scarlet, listen to me. I know you’ve been hurt.”

  Her friend didn’t really know the whole of it. It was too much to tell, too personal and private, too deep.

  “But you have to get back out there. Stone is gone. Over. Let him go and move on.”

  Nicole didn’t know how much she’d fallen for him. Scarlet didn’t have the courage to tell her friend all the mortifying details, though she’d told her enough.

  “I know,” she whispered, her elation giving way to deep sorrow.

  It was clearly over. He hadn’t contacted her just as she asked and that was for the best. There was no point in wanting someone who didn’t want her. But it would still take time to heal. He wasn’t hers, but she also wasn’t ready to let him go.

  She pulled into her driveway. “I just need a little more time. I’m home now. I’ll call you later.”

  Nicole congratulated her one more time on the grant and Scarlet slid her phone into her purse. She entered the empty house, greeted only by a silent brush of Thor’s tail.