Beyond the Masks

by Nicky F. Grant

  “Shane.”

  “Jacob,” she responded, short and strangely professional, like they were about to handle a business transaction. “What’s this about?”

  Amusement curled his lips. “That’s my girl. Right to the point.”

  “I’m not your girl. Spill it, Andrews.”

  Narrowing his gaze, her pupils dilated, a strategic guise to hide the obvious reaction to his presence. It was adorable. But her hand stroked back and forth over the base of the glass. Nerves. Interesting. Perhaps she still had a flame burning for him.

  “One thing at a time, Shane. How about hello? How are you? It’s good to see you.”

  “Good to see you,” she repeated evenly. “Is that what this is?” Her finger acknowledged the two of them. “Good to see you? Humor me. Why is it good to see me?” A hard chin pushed forward.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a year since the Billboard gala, and there’s talk about great things surrounding your company. You’re all grown up,” he replied with a smile.

  “Don’t patronize me, Jacob. You called this meeting, so speak.”

  “I have to say, I didn’t expect this approach. Is that how you talk to your employees? Now I know how things get done around your camp.”

  “You don’t know anything about how I run my company. You left, remember? If you’d stuck around, you would know.” Her smart mouth, full and pink, smirked in his direction. His hand twitched. He wanted to spank her and kiss the cocky expression off her face.

  The telltale signs of anger reddened her neck. She was still hurt, which caused his heart to dip. But he knew what he’d walked into.

  Yes, he was the asshole who’d left her in a lurch. He had to live with it, but she’d given him no choice. Callused by the loss of her father, she’d shut him out.

  “There’s the girl I knew, always reminding me of my faults. Your nose still flares a little when you’re angry. It’s very cute.” He dotted the tip of her nose, and she retreated. “It could be possible I didn’t do a good enough job at punishing you when I should have,” he quipped.

  “Maybe if you had, we’d still be together,” she goaded, her smile tight and eyebrows lifting in challenging amusement.

  “Touché, Ms. Vaughn.” Swallowing his entire glass of scotch, he enjoyed her feistiness. The air dissipated and the tension eased slightly from her comeback. “I’ll make you a deal. We will discuss the matter at hand once we’ve achieved the proper exchange. In all seriousness, baby, how are you?” His hand rested on hers.

  “Please don’t call me that.” She moved her hand to rest it on the foot of the wine glass.

  He raised a brow, a signal to her. One he used as a warning to her to do as he asked. If she didn’t listen, a spanking had resulted in the past. Thinking about her ass turning a rosy color hit him in all the wrong places.

  “Ugh, you’re such a difficult man. Fine. I won’t tolerate this test of wills. The faster we get this done, the sooner I can leave.” She exhaled. “And, Jacob, if you must know, I’m great. Fantastic. Couldn’t be better.”

  “Why?”

  “I have the career I’ve always wanted. I have money, friends, and family. Not a care in the world. You could say I’ve reached the highest level of power and success.”

  “Success, yes. But power isn’t in your DNA.”

  Shane put the people in her life first, including him. By supporting his career and moving to New York, a question of loyalty and love had never arisen. She had always been there for him. Until her father died.

  “Things change.”

  “Have they?”

  “Yes. Now can you please move it along?”

  “Patience,” he said calmly.

  She stared at him, narrowing her eyes. The discussion would move forward when he was ready, not because she asked.

  The stool screeched across the hardwood when she stood.

  “Thank you for the beverage. Now, if you’ll please excuse me.” One step and he snatched her arm. The connection shot through him, a natural state of command. He could turn on a dime. One minute playful, the next demanding. She’d tested his patience long enough.

  He whispered in her ear, “I suggest you have a seat, Shane. I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

  Frozen in place, she only stared at their connection point. After a beat, a sheen of confusion passed through her gaze. A whisper escaped, “No.”

  “Shane,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “This is a choice.” The word choice stopped him. It meant something entirely different than what she’d known it to be. It threw him. She snapped to attention and glared. “Remove your hand, Jacob. You don’t own me.”

  Without question, he released her, her words bringing him out of the scene in his head. Choice. Own me. What the hell did he think this was and why the instinctual response? He was supposed to be over her. The deal with Icarus Descending was his closure. Wasn’t it?

  “Please sit,” he requested.

  “I…I have to go.” She walked toward the door. Wake up, Andrews. She’s leaving again because of you.

  In three long strides, he stepped in front of her. She stopped abruptly. “Move.”

  “Shit, Shane…I…” He glanced around the bar to make sure no one had noticed the confrontation. “I don’t know what happened. Old habits die hard, Lovely.” He ran a hand though his long hair.

  She cringed at the slip of his pet name. “I can’t do this. This was a mistake.”

  “Please, let me explain.” She motioned to give him the floor. “Can we sit, please?”

  The inner struggle rippled down her form. The stubborn girl still existed inside as she fought him and for good reason. He didn’t own her, even though, deep down, a current traveled between them.

  “I’ll get to the point.”

  “Five.” She held out her hand emphasizing the number of minutes he had left to explain. She returned to the stool and sat.

  With feet glued to the floor, he rubbed his face. Touching her brought back the recognizable dynamic of the past. A cathartic wave of normality briefly passed through him followed by the familiar angst he’d carried with him, all of it taking residence in his stomach. The day he’d left his sub behind. The day he’d walked out on his life with Shane.

  Fuck, he missed her. The way she yielded to his touch and his voice. All the things taken for granted. The plan to sever their hearts failed. He wanted her back. But how?

  Eye-to-eye, he sat. “Thank you.”

  She nodded, swallowing her wine.

  “I’m proud of you, Shane.”

  “For not putting up with your shit?” She laughed a little.

  He smiled, relieving the last several minutes of tension. “Not what I was going to say, but yes. I’m proud of what you’ve become. Who would’ve thought the two of us would be holding such prestigious positions at competing labels?”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. It means so much to hear you say it.” They stared at each other for too many moments. Something passed between them. Respect? Desire?

  He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I wanted to say how sorry I am for how things ended between us. I understand my apology may not help, and you may not believe me, but know I’m truly sorry.”

  She gnawed on her bottom lip. Her eyes glassed over from tears. She was as stubborn as he remembered.

  “Apology accepted. It was for the best anyway. Our lives have become so much more…fulfilled since the split.” She drank her wine until the tears ceased.

  “Perhaps.” He sighed. “Your father was a good man, and if he could see you now, he would be so proud. He was an important part of my life too, you know. I guess seeing you go through your depression tortured me. I didn’t know it at the time, but looking back, I realize I was grieving him too.” He stood and turned her toward him. The soft sweater wrap caressed his palms as he rubbed her arms. “You believe me, right?”

  Pain flitted over her features, the hard exterior disappearing, and o
nly vulnerability remained. His girl.

  “Yes. I believe you. It consumed me, and trying to take care of my mother through it all was difficult. I didn’t think about how his death must have affected you too.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. The thousand-pound gorilla had finally been lifted from his chest only to climb onto his back. He needed to come clean.

  “No apology needed. And you’re right. We wouldn’t be who we are today if not for me leaving.”

  A half smile appeared on her face. Wanting to tell her he wanted her, he searched her soul. Did she want him? Maybe he had a chance, but how could she ever love him again?

  She tilted her head, reading his mind. “Is there more?”

  He rolled his neck. He owed her a clean slate. “Yes. I’ve felt lately I’m finally over you after all this time. But...”

  “Over me, huh? Finally, something we agree on.” She half laughed. “It’d be too difficult to regain the trust we shared.”

  His heart cracked into a million pieces. How could she trust him again? Even if she did, when she found out he’d worked with Gavin to steal Omega’s artists there would never be a “them” again.

  It wouldn’t even matter that AMG had been closing in when he found out her label was too. Then it became a race to the finish line, an obsession to be the best. And if he was honest, subconsciously, he wanted to hit her where it hurt. Her job. The one thing that had come between them.

  Backing away, he motioned for the bartender to get him another drink.

  “You agree, right?”

  “Yes, baby, I agree,” he said, disgusted with his choices. Clean break. She deserved it. He threw back the entire drink, stood, and grabbed his wallet. Throwing cash on the bar, he kissed one cheek and the other. Her wildflower perfume filled his nose, and his heart sank further. “I’m happy for you and glad we were able to gather closure. Thank you for meeting with me.”

  She exhaled with a slight shudder. “Thank you for asking.”

  He pulled away. She smoothed her lips, and they parted then shut.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She snatched her purse and stood. “It’s silly.”

  “Tell me, please.”

  “I don’t know. This whole thing… Would it be strange if I asked you to grab something to eat?”

  He froze. “Now?”

  “How about next week. Maybe we could turn a new leaf. Friendly competitors?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “A congratulations lunch for the new roster addition?” Her grateful smile killed him. After all this time, she still had the ability to be the bigger person.

  “I can check and see if…”

  “Please?” she asked hopeful. The relief in her eyes told him she’d buried the hatchet. Their conversation freeing her of something she’d been holding onto. Him.

  “Sure, Shane. Let me know when.”

  The booming bass from the dance floor was muffled in the back office of The Resort. Gavin tied the loose ends for the upcoming members appreciation night and glanced at Candy from his desk.

  “How many guests are on the list?”

  “Um, fifty-two,” she confirmed in her sweet nasally voice.

  “Fifty-two? I thought yesterday there were fifty-one.”

  “Nope, fifty-two. We had a new member submit her paperwork early this morning.”

  He walked over to her desk and leaned on the edge. “Who is it?”

  Her fingers scrolled the mouse through the database and clicked the recent application. “Someone named Shane Vaughn.”

  Narrowing his eyes to focus on the name listed, a slow grin appeared on his face. “You don’t say.”

  “Do you know her? Who is she?” She tapped the invitations on the desktop to straighten them.

  “No one important.” He covered a smile with his hand. “This got a hell of a lot easier.”

  Shane had unknowingly joined his establishment. His plan was coming full circle, effortlessly. All he had to do was get her in a compromising position and hold it over her head.

  “Easier? How’s adding one more, easier? Now we have to change the number of gift bags on order and who knows what else,” she said excitedly.

  “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll all get done.” He assured her by patting her shoulders. She wasn’t the brightest, but she was sweet, and the members adored her.

  Ethan entered the room. “Hey, we need some help at the bar. Candy, would you mind?”

  “Absolutely, Sir.” She rose from the desk, mumbling the guest count as she left.

  The men smirked at one another, and Gavin shook his head. Ethan closed the door behind her. “What were you two doing in here?”

  “Reviewing the last minute items for the gathering.”

  Ethan glanced over his shoulder and focused on the application still visible on the screen. “Shane Vaughn. Isn’t she your boss? Is she a Domme?”

  He turned to read detail. “Nope, a sub.” His insides jumped in satisfaction.

  “No kidding. The way you talked about her, I would’ve guessed the other.”

  “No kidding, indeed. Anything else before the invitations go out tomorrow?”

  “Nah, we should be good. You sticking around?” Ethan crooked a thumb toward the door. “Damien and Brit are about to start their scene. They asked if you were here. I think they need a third.”

  Damien and Brit, a married couple, heavily involved in the D/s community, had somehow made it last through the years. Brit’s preferred kink involved two Doms, and she got off on Damien watching and commanding the other. Gavin enjoyed scening with them and had participated several times.

  “Not tonight.” He swiped his keys from the desk.

  “Suit yourself. Have a good one.”

  “Thanks.”

  He proceeded down a low-lit hallway, passing a row of private rooms. The muted red lights above each door indicated most were occupied. Taking the back stairs leading to the street, he approached his Range Rover and got in. Shane Vaughn, a member of his club, would receive an invitation to the gathering.

  The engine roared to life along with his inner desire to control his boss. “Ms. Vaughn, your worst nightmare is about to begin.”

  6

  Shane rolled her suitcase into her apartment alongside David after traveling to Los Angeles. Anna Marie’s show and the afterparty had kept the pair out till ungodly hours all weekend and into Monday.

  She removed her sunglasses and squinted with the onslaught of daggers hitting her eyes from the light shining through the windows. Never drinking again.

  David shed his cream suit jacket, still put together even though he’d partied just as hard. His white linen pants were pressed, and his blue scarf brought out the hazel in his still clear eyes. She snorted. She traveled more casually with her hair braided to the side, thigh-high flat boots, jeans, and a long-sleeved shirt.

  They tossed their bags in the corner of the foyer and made their way to the living area.

  “Anna Marie was a hot mess last night. What was she thinking?” David asked, kicking off his shoes before sitting on the couch.

  Anna Marie, a typical young pop star, mistakenly thought she was invincible to any bad publicity. After being caught in a threesome in the back of her limo, the paparazzi flashes flickered around them as she ran down the photographers with a blinged out cane, said to be a necessary prop with her rainbow hair and blue fur coat. Shane and David caught it all firsthand leaving the party.

  “I agree, sweetie, but she’s the next best thing. I’ll talk to Megan in PR about getting a press release out to smooth it over.” She pointed to the kitchen. “Thirsty?”

  “Yes. Sparkling water?” David continued as she headed for the fridge. “There’s no way Megan can smooth over her outburst from the press. It’s all over social media.”

  She stepped into the kitchen area and halted. In the center of the marble island, a red velvet box rested.

  “Wonder what this
is,” she said to herself. Her fingertips grazed the soft velvet in apprehension and excitement. She picked it up and made her way back to the living room.

  “Heelloo? Are you okay?” David called. She turned the corner. “Oh, honey, it came!” He clapped his hands.

  “What is it? Did you send it?”

  “Of course not.” He waved his hand in disgust. “Red is not my color. That, my dear, is your Resort package. Come sit and open it up.” He patted the spot next to him on the white curved couch.

  She set it on the coffee table. It called to her as if it had made a come-hither motion. The intricate silver stitching in a swirling pattern hypnotized her. It was happening. Her welcome package to the unknown. She swallowed and spun the brushed nickel latch.

  The lid contained a black envelope, marked Shane. Her skin tingled as her heart leapt. Smiling, she detached the envelope and removed the thick black cardstock. Silver embossed words leapt from the invitation.

  You are cordially invited to

  The Resort

  A tab stuck out of the bottom. When she moved it, right to left, a flogger moved across the top of the invitation. “You have to see this.”

  “Nice touch.”

  She opened the card.

  Members Appreciation Night

  Saturday, the Twenty-Fourth of October

  Eight O’clock in the Evening

  “That’s this Saturday.”

  “Looks like your dress will make its debut.” He fanned his face.

  Soft black silk lined each compartment. The right side resembled a jewelry box ring holder. One crease held condoms and the other a platinum key card. She inspected the mask nestled in silk from the top section. White lace intricately woven and interconnected with swirls and net-like patterns created the base. Real pearls decorated the upper edges, framing the eyes and nosepiece. A large pearl rested in the center of a stitched lotus flower at the middle of the forehead. She ran her fingers over the tails of thick silver ribbon. Wow.