Heart's Masquerade

by Tressie Lockwood

  “Jazara Crane, I’m going to skin you in this office.”

  “Um, ladies, are we on break?” Jaz’s boss stood above them with a smile on her face but eyebrows that said there were phone calls to make and people to convince to give to their programs. Jaz scraped her chair back and snatched up her coffee. Lawanda followed suit.

  “No, just going over our notes from yesterday,” Jaz said. “Getting to it. We’ve got a big day.”

  She followed through with her words and dove into her duties. The one thing she could say about her work was that she loved it. People excited her. They gave her life, and she enjoyed talking to them on the phone even when they were being difficult.

  Halfway through the morning though, Lawanda cornered her as she knew her friend would. Lawanda never let a bone go until she had picked it clean. “Now spill while she’s gone. What happened? Who did you meet, and why didn’t you tell me about him yesterday or even the day before?”

  Jaz sighed. “Because of this. You’re making it a big deal, Lawanda, and it isn’t. He’s…actually, I don’t know much about him except he grew up in the area.”

  “Delicious?”

  “With a capital D. Girl…” They both paused to imagine it, Jaz picturing Tor in her mind, that body, the voice, the smile. She assumed her friend was thinking either about her own boyfriend or any sexy black man—the darker the better. That was Lawanda’s preference.

  “So what’s his name?”

  “Tor.”

  “Tor what? Is that a nickname?”

  Jaz groaned. She realized she had no idea. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I had the feeling he was hurting or lonely maybe. Either way he didn’t call, so he must not have been interested. I’m not the type to sit around waiting on a guy, so it’s fine.”

  “Aw, what a waste,” Lawanda complained. “I thought you were going to tell me some fairy-tale story.”

  “It was a Halloween party, nut.”

  Jaz recalled how she’d teased him and said he was acting like Cinderfella, except she refused to hunt him down. She hadn’t met anyone like him. Not because of his looks. She had dated sexy guys, but she had spoken the truth about how he seemed lonely, especially wearing the mask. He said he grew up in the area, yet he appeared to be far separated from it. She had no real idea why she felt that way, and it couldn’t be his speech. She’d joked about the accent, but there were plenty of transplants in Boston. Well, it didn’t matter. He didn’t call. C’est la vie.

  “Don’t worry,” Lawanna said, patting her arm. “Your Mr. Right is probably right around the corner. You’ll see.”

  Jaz hadn’t given up hope at all. She just willed the man for her to show soon because a woman had needs too, and on top of that—lonely sucked big-time.

  * * * *

  Jaz made it over to the community center by one in the afternoon and headed a class on life skills. Once she had fielded a million and one questions after the session, she left her students to go to the gym. Just as she expected, she found Allen on one of the weight machines, and she approached him.

  “Hey, Allen, I thought I’d find you here.”

  Her ex blew out a puff of air and let the barbells he held clang against the stand that held them up. A quick calculation told her he’d been pressing two hundred fifty pounds. He sat up and ran a towel over his sweaty skin. Jaz held her breath and moved back. The stench hit her like a boulder to the face. The one thing she hated was how much he smelled when he worked out. She didn’t know if it was in his pores or just his natural aroma. Good thing he had showered regularly while they were together.

  “Jaz, come to beg me to take you back?” He grinned, and she crumpled the paper a little that she held.

  “No, I wanted to talk to you about giving a little more in your monthly gift to the center.”

  He frowned, and his muddy-brown eyes seemed to darken further. Jaz couldn’t help comparing them to a certain green pair she couldn’t get out of her head. “I already give fifty.”

  “I know, and we’re grateful,” she said with an ingratiating smile. A fingertip run along his biceps was all she could manage without gagging. “You got these muscles using the equipment here. Allen, the center is in trouble, and we need you to help get us out of it.”

  She saw him waver. Nothing got to Allen like feeling like he was some kind of savior. Turning on the feminine charm didn’t hurt either. “Allen?” she coaxed in her sweetest voice when he said nothing.

  “Fine, I’ll look into my finances and see what I can spare. He stood up, crowding her, and she leaped back to keep his damp skin from coming into contact with her clothes. She would have to either go home to shower and change or smell like sweat all day. Wasn’t happening. Allen grasped her wrist in one of his big, meaty paws, but he didn’t drag her to him. “You should have dinner with me tonight to show your appreciation.”

  “I don’t like being manhandled, Allen.” Her soft, but firm warning caused him to release her in an instant. “I’m working late, so I’m going to have to take a rain check, but thanks so much. I’ll tell the director to expect a check by the end of the week.”

  Jaz spun on her heel and escaped. She bit back a chuckle at his grumbling behind her. Before she returned to work, she stopped by the bathroom and scrubbed her hands and wrist where Allen had touched her. Yeah, totally not going back to him.

  A couple hours later, after she assisted with the running of another class, she headed to the director’s office and found the woman just hanging up the phone. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Jaz, you did it.”

  Jaz blinked. “Me? What did I do?”

  “We got a huge donation. I think it will keep us in the black for a little while, and I’m thinking we can use this in some way to convince the building owner not to sell. If only it was enough to buy for the community.” She waved her hand. “Never mind, we’re ahead! I’m so excited.”

  Jaz whooped. “That’s great news, but we all worked together to pull this off. I think the word is getting out there for how we need the center.”

  The director walked around her desk and hugged Jaz. “You’re such a jewel. I’m so glad we got you, and I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you here.”

  “Ugh, you’re making me blush,” Jaz joked.

  “Well the donor said you’re the reason he wanted to give.”

  Jaz froze. “He?”

  The director reached for a sheet where she’d written down the information. “He wanted to remain anonymous.”

  Jaz had spoken with so many different people over the months she had accepted a position as coordinator and instructor as needed. “Mind me asking how much?”

  Jaz whistled at learning the figure. “Nice. We rarely get that much at once. We might even be able to give the leaky pipe in the second floor bathroom a permanent fix instead of a patch job.”

  “At least, but it’s a great start, and I have a lot of hope for keeping our doors open.”

  “Me, too,” Jaz echoed. She headed for the door and met Allen in the hall. He’d showered and smelled pretty good this time. He was looking very proud of himself, and Jaz began to wonder. “Allen, did you give a large donation after we spoke?”

  He frowned in annoyance and then grinned. “You got me, baby. I can’t resist doing whatever you ask me to do.”

  “I didn’t think you could swing that much, but thank you. Everyone in the community can keep enjoying this place a little longer, and most importantly the kids will have a place to play.”

  “Damn, do you have to keep sounding like a brochure or one of those sob-story commercials?”

  She clamped her teeth together. “I didn’t realize I did.”

  He laced his fingers with hers and drew her near. Jaz tried pulling away, but he held on. Why did she have to keep falling for his traps? He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head.

  “I’m working, Allen. This isn’t the place. Let me go, please.”

  “Come over to my house,” he w
hispered. “I have a movie you’ll like, and I can cook something.”

  Allen was a mean cook, but she wasn’t tempted. “I have to work late.”

  “After. We can make up, and you can show me how you miss me.”

  “Seriously.” She tugged. This time, even with a warning, he didn’t let go, but she hadn’t raised a hand yet to give him a shove before he was wrenched away. Rhashon grasped Allen around the back of his neck and compelled him to move toward the exit.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rhashon?” Allen growled.

  “You had your workout, Allen. Get moving. I’m sure they’re waiting for you down at the gas station.”

  “It’s a convenience store,” Allen said.

  “It’s a 7-Eleven. Stop pushing up on my sister when she’s done with you, or you’ll answer to me.”

  Rhashon’s regulars squealed, ladies who took his class on their break each day just so they could ogle him. For all the weight lifting Allen had done, it meant nothing to Rhashon’s skill and greater strength. Jaz did her best not to laugh as her brother tossed her poor ex out on his ass, and then she moaned thinking he would call his bank and cancel the donation he had given for such an insult. She thought about running out and trying to make it up to him, but lowering her dignity had never entered into her job. Her body was not for trade no matter how much she tried to make the men feel good about themselves as she loosened their holds on their wallets.

  Rhashon marched back into the center, eyeing her. “Jaz, I thought you were done with him. At least that’s what Yasmine said and the picture I got at the party.”

  She swirled away from him, and continued down the hall. Behind her, the ladies made sure to raise their voices talking about how Rhashon was such a good man looking out for his little sister, but shouldn’t she choose her men better.

  Her brother defended her. “Don’t worry about, Jazara. She’s smart and beautiful. She’ll find the one. Then he’ll look out for her, after I approve him.”

  She laughed, willing Rhashon’s words from his mouth to God’s ears. Well, the part about the one. Not about his behind approving anyone.

  “Jaz,” the director called out, and Jaz popped into her office.

  “What’s up?” She sank into a chair and crossed her legs. Doing so brought to her attention that the heel was running low. She’d need to have it repaired at the local shop because she loved these particular heels, and new ones weren’t in her plan right now.

  “I think we can do the entrepreneur classes.”

  Jaz forgot her shoes. “No way. Really?”

  “Yes, we can squeeze it out of the budget now.”

  Jaz clapped her hands together. “This is huge. So we can go with my trial, right? To train a group of kids to run their own business?”

  “Yup, just like you proposed last year. It’s got to be small and contained. The money we received will sustain us until our lease is up in three years, but I think we can make an impact in that time. If we can get volunteers who have expertise in the areas we need, that would be perfect. I need you to look into the files and find out if any of our previous volunteers are suitable.”

  “Done!”

  Jaz holed up in the file room with her shoes off and the radio belting out an upbeat tune. She sang under her breath as she sorted through folders according to type of help offered previously and how recent. She came across Kenny Donnelly and paused. She’d known he worked in construction, and he had offered many hours playing ball with the kids, organizing games. Of course, a lot of it had to do with forced community service, but still, she remembered he was pretty good with them. He spoke to them on their level.

  On impulse, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number. He picked up on the third ring, and Jaz explained what she was looking for.

  “I don’t know anything about business, and the only reason I helped you out was because I got bagged and was forced to.”

  She sighed. He answered just as she expected, but it was worth a shot. Oddly enough the best person for the job that she knew might be Allen, but there was no way she’d ask him after what happened earlier.

  “Well, thanks anyway, Kenny. It was worth a shot. I guess I—”

  “Wait.”

  She paused, wondering if he’d changed his mind. “Yeah?”

  “I might know somebody.”

  Suspicion kept Jaz silent. Kenny didn’t have the tone of someone who wanted to do what he could to help. His words had made that clear. Instead, he sounded more like the cat that had eaten the canary, as if he was getting excited thinking he was going to screw someone over. She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t interested in playing games.

  “His name’s Torrian,” Kenny said. “I’ll give you his phone number.”

  The name struck an immediate cord although she wasn’t sure why it should. Just because Tor’s name had the same beginning sound as this person, it didn’t mean they were one. At the same time, Tor had said he grew up in the area. Better to find out for sure. A little voice inside told her to forget about Cinderfella and move on. Curiosity and the pleasant memory of talking to him kept her on the line.

  “What’s his last name?” she asked.

  Kenny seemed hesitant, and her stomach knotted.

  “Donnelly,” he groaned out, and she almost laughed.

  “Your brother?”

  “Cousin.”

  She would never have guessed. The angry man with perpetual dirt beneath his fingernails versus the more refined, seemingly cultured man who she’d enjoyed a fun night with. Thinking about it, she realized they did have the same coloring and bone structure, but their personalities were strikingly different. Tor hadn’t mentioned he had a cousin she might know, and in her dealings with Kenny, he hadn’t said anything either. For some reason, she had assumed he didn’t have family. Many of the people in the community were as big on family as she was, which was one of the things she loved about them all.

  “Okay, I’ll call,” she said. “Thanks, Kenny.”

  “Whatever. Just don’t bother me with any more charity crap. I’m not interested!” He disconnected the call after passing along the number. Not even a have-a-nice-day.

  Jaz sat up straight, laid her phone down, and then paced the small room. Why did her stomach knot even more? This was about the kids, not about her. Yeah, right. You want to hear his voice again.

  “One freaking night. Not that big a deal, Jaz. Pull it together, girl.”

  The pep talk did nothing to calm her nerves, so she snatched up the phone and dialed before she chickened out. Unlike his cousin, Tor answered on the first ring, but he sounded distracted. “Donnelly.”

  Her heartbeat kicked into high gear. Well, that confirmed his name, and she would know those sexy, deep tones anywhere. “Hey, Tor, how are you?”

  The line went silent.

  “Um, hello? Are you there?”

  “Jazara.”

  This was the first time she’d heard him say her name full out. She liked it and decided to return the favor. “Yup, it’s me, Torrian. I got your name and number from your cousin, Kenny.”

  “What else did my cousin tell you?”

  Her mouth fell open. She expected a couple different reactions—surprise, curiosity, maybe even interest. Definitely not anger. “Whoa, it’s not like that,” she rushed to assure him. I told you the night of the party, I’m not into chasing men. This has to do with work, charity actually.”

  Her assurances didn’t calm him. “What did he tell you about me, Jaz?”

  Irrational anger rose in her at his attitude. The fool must not believe her. “Apparently, he didn’t tell me assholes run in the family. Consider this a wrong number.” She disconnected the call and slapped a hand over her mouth. Way too unprofessional. Crap!

  She had dealt with belligerence from people before and had learned to let it roll off her back. Why the heck did she get mad? Because she’d been so hopeful, feelings that had nothing to do with her job? After
she kicked herself a few times, she wondered why he would get so mad. Then she put it down to anger problems, the same as Kenny and dismissed the entire incident.

  The rest of the day dragged along as she called numerous volunteers and various small business owners to ask for their assistance. By five, she’d had it and packed up to go home. Tomorrow was soon enough to figure out what her next step should be.

  Chapter Five

  Jaz carried a fourth box down the hall to the room where she’d begun sorting through gifts. She stumbled when, of all people, Torrian turned the corner from the opposite end. He spotted her right away and increased his step. She had no choice but to continue toward him. He’d dressed in slightly faded blue jeans. The same leather jacket from the night of the party hung open to reveal a pullover, rust-colored sweater with two buttons open at the throat.

  When he reached her, Jaz sidestepped him. “What do you want?”

  “I came to apologize.”

  “That wasn’t necessary.”

  “I think it was.”

  She kept walking. “Look, dude, no one is chasing you, okay? Whatever chip you have on your shoulder or for whatever reason you think all women are beating down your door, I suggest you get over yourself.”

  He reached out for her arm. “Wait, please, Jaz. Just hear me out.”

  Of course Rhashon appeared out of nowhere. She wondered if her brother had a sixth sense when it came to her. Then again, his classes were just around the corner from where they stood. “You have two seconds to get your hands off my sister before I rip your arms off and feed them to you.”

  Jaz rolled her eyes. “Back off, Rhashon. I’m sure Torrian doesn’t mean me any harm.”

  Her brother looked doubtful, and she looked at Torrian. He nodded.

  “I’m here to help,” he said.

  Rhashon gave him a look that said he was watching and strode by. Jaz sighed and continued to the room where she was working for the day with Torrian following. “So you’re calling me Torrian now?”

  She ignored the question. “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”