Thank you SO much.
Love,
KEEP READING on for Volume 2 of Behind the Blindfold: Uncovered…
Behind
The
Blindfold:
Uncovered
Natalie e. Wrye
Behind the Blindfold: UNCOVERED
Saturday Blake has uncovered one of Mark Rich's biggest secrets.
Betrayed, frightened and hurt, she tries to move on, believing that the game is over, but she is sorely mistaken.
There's another player in this game...and they won't play by any rules.
And Mark's not done with her yet...
Chapter One
The Second Time Around
PRESENT-DAY
It’s been terribly gloomy these past few weeks…
Or maybe it’s just my disposition.
Every time he reaches out, I get into one of these moods. And I really didn’t want to bring this attitude into my date with Axe.
Saturday leaned her forehead against the taxicab window, deep in thought. The rain that was falling on the window started to beat like tiny little fists, further darkening her mood.
I’ve got to get out of this rut. It isn’t fair to Axe…or me.
Honestly, what other sign does Mark need to see to know that he and I are done? I mean, I jumped OUT OF A WINDOW to escape him, for Christ’s sake.
The cab stopped with a sudden jerk, snapping Saturday’s head abruptly forward. She opened her mouth to throw a fit, when she saw that they had stopped in front of the restaurant.
She grabbed her umbrella from the seat, nearly throwing the taxi fare at the careless driver, and stepped out into a sheet of rain. Her grey cocktail dress had started getting wet during the short walk to the door, but a figure rushed in to hold her umbrella.
Saturday walked through, shaking the water off of her thirty-dollar pumps, and glanced upward to thank the kind stranger.
It was Axe… smiling, his auburn hair wet from the rain and dripping down onto his blue button-down shirt. Saturday couldn’t help but smile in return.
He had just soaked himself to help her, but he seemed so content. She felt twinges of guilt looking at his grinning face.
After their first exchange in the local bookstore, Saturday sat on his number for weeks without calling, even in her “post-Mark era”…because the thought of letting any type of romance into her life was too terrifying.
But sometime in late February, she got bold enough (and drunk enough) to pick up his business card and dial. He was amused… but understanding and did not hesitate to ask her out immediately.
They had been dating for about a month now.
As Axe walked Saturday to their seats in the restaurant, her smile began to wilt, however. It was a shame, she thought; she was holding back in this “relationship,” and she knew it.
Even now, as he pulled a chair out for her to sit and smiled with affection, she couldn’t find it within herself to fully reciprocate the same level of sentiment.
Late that very afternoon, a package had arrived at her door. “Disney! On Ice” tickets. She was fuming when she saw them. They were from Mark, no doubt.
He had known how much of a Disney fanatic she was, and, like the other gifts he had sent, he was playing to her interests to try to draw her back in. She held the tickets in her hand, wavering between taking Axe to the event and setting them on fire.
She decided against both, coldly ripping them in half and throwing them into her wastebasket. Still… just the arrival of the package had lingering effects on her.
Saturday flashed back to three months earlier when she was first greeted at her door by a beautifully wrapped bundle. Shocked and amazed, she opened it with child-like enthusiasm, not taking the time to consider its origin.
She balked when she saw its contents. It was a painting…her painting…the one she drew in Mark’s presence… the first night they made love.
She pitched it out of her bedroom window without a second glance.
Since their split, it had felt as if Mark had grown tentacles that reached out, touching her wherever she went, spilling ink all over her barely reconstructed life.
Desperate to shed the memory, she begrudgingly sat down, shaking out her napkin much harder than she intended. Axe scowled at her gesture, reaching out to touch her hand.
“Everything ok?” he asked.
She nodded a bit too emphatically. “Yeah, everything’s fine… now.”
Saturday didn’t even attempt a smile upon answering; she knew it would crack.
Axe gave a tentative nod, deciding not to pry. From then on, the date continued pretty seamlessly. They talked about Axe’s upcoming show, his excitement, and his fear about the public’s perception.
They talked about Saturday’s own work, which was selling like hot cakes thanks to a concerted push by her best friend Kara, Kara’s photographer boyfriend, James, and Vicky, her boss at the Clairvoyage gallery. Another gallery had even picked up her work, displaying and selling individual pieces.
Saturday was bringing in more money than she ever had, but it was still an adjustment. She hadn’t yet transitioned out of eating ramen noodles from the cup and buying bargain heels from Target.
And as for Axe? Well, Saturday liked him… a lot; she really did. It’s just that… some puzzle piece was missing from their interaction, some… part that would make the picture complete.
Saturday surmised that she was the reason. It was she that wasn’t fully invested, fully involved. Yes, she had shared bits of her life with Axe, but the information flowed from her like a drizzle.
With Mark, she experienced involuntary outpourings of her thoughts, her soul. Even the way Axe looked at her left something to be desired. He was almost always sweet and attentive, his eyes reflecting what she truly believed was a genuine fondness for her.
But Mark… the way he looked at her…
He observed Saturday like a hunter watches its prey, glaring as if he wanted to devour her, his bright eyes turning a deep olive as his irises seemed to soak her in. She shuddered involuntarily.
When he looked at her that way, his gaze unblinking, she felt bared… and ready to give him anything. Mark was so raw… and unfiltered… and…
Psychopathic? Yeah…possibly that, too.
The notion caused Saturday to shiver from a different, yet darker emotion.
The check was placed on the table in front of Saturday, startling her. Axe grabbed the small folder in which it was contained and signed it without hesitation.
He helped Saturday stand from her seat, placing her small blazer squarely on her petite shoulders. He opened both sets of doors at the entrance, holding the umbrella aloft as they walked to his ocean blue BMW.
Before they could reach the car, Saturday let Axe know that she wanted to warm up in the car and then call a cab. She still didn’t want Axe to know where she lived… not yet anyway.
She usually waited a while before revealing her home’s location to any man, but especially now. Now that Mark had used her address to bombard her with every type of apologetic bribe imaginable.
The rain had finally started to let up, turning into a light but chilled shower. Axe opened the passenger side door, escorting Saturday inside before opening his own and entering.
He turned the heat on, and Saturday reached her hands out towards the warm vents. She looked around the car. This scene had played itself out for her before: the rain… the car… the solitude.
It had just been with a different man: one that she was still trying to forget.
Time to call that cab.
Saturday knew that she couldn’t stay out of trouble much longer. She had been putting off any type of intimacy with Axe for a while, but she wasn’t sure how long she could hold out. She looked at Axe’s chiseled face under the subdued glow of nearby lights, feeling the stirrings of desire within her.
She may not have felt the internal blaze that she did near Mark, but heat still simmered when she
was with Axe. What woman could look at Axe and not be attracted to him? He was gorgeous, smart and artistic.
It was the reason she took whatever measure possible to make sure that they weren’t truly alone… like they were now.
Saturday called one of the cab companies she kept on speed-dial, giving them brief instructions before placing her hands in her lap.
Axe reached over to grab one of her wringing hands, bringing it close to his chest.
“How was your meal?” he asked lazily… seductively, almost.
“It was great,” she responded. “The food…the wine. I liked it a lot. Thank you.”
He smiled modestly, his eyes still focused on her hand in his.
She watched the same hand, a heightened awareness creeping into her body. His touch was innocent enough, but the air was noticeably thicker, almost heavy with the tension that was starting to build.
Saturday tried to ignore it, pretend it didn’t exist. “And you? What did you enjoy?”
Axe shrugged casually. “I enjoyed the restaurant, the food… all of it.”
He finally looked up at her, his voice dropping an octave.
“You know what I liked most…?”
Her skin began to prickle. “What?” she asked.
He gazed unwaveringly into Saturday’s face. “You.”
And then he leaned over to kiss her… and for the first time in a long stretch, she welcomed it.
His kiss was tentative at first, and then grew stronger as Saturday’s lips moved in response. His tongue began testing her lips, begging for entry. She willingly obliged.
Axe tasted like his dessert from the restaurant, his mouth sweet with dark chocolate and cherry flavor, bursting brightly onto her tongue. The car was warm; the air from the vents blew gently and soothingly, but it was no match for the hot sensation that was igniting within Saturday. The kiss became eager; her hand involuntarily reached out to grab him.
She had missed this. Exactly this. This touch of a man, warmth of a man—feel of a man.
It had felt like so long since she had let herself be free with a guy in this way. She had so badly wanted to let go with someone else…someone other than Mark.
She wanted to forget: forget Mark’s smile; his eyes; his voice. She wanted to drown them out amidst a sea of sensation.
Meanwhile, Axe’s hands traveled into Saturday’s sandy hair, pulling gently at the roots. She couldn’t help but release a soft moan at the synchronized feel of his mouth and hands.
The sensuous sound reassured and emboldened Axe, whose hands started to roam southward on Saturday’s body.
Caught up in his kiss, Saturday only faintly registered his fingers’ slow descent from her shoulders to her elbows, down to her thighs. Her mind might not have been fully invested in this relationship, but her body was fully attentive.
She groaned again at Axe’s rubbing hands on her thighs. But her body went into complete shock when those same hands tried to slip between them.
She recoiled as if burned, startling Axe in the process. He leaned back in his seat, his hands dropping immediately.
“Wow. I’m sorry, Saturday. I just thought… I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off apologetically.
Saturday didn’t respond, her body tense and frozen in place. She couldn’t bear to look Axe in the eye. She felt that if she did, she might melt in her seat from pure embarrassment.
Luckily, an approaching car saved her from having to. It was the taxi that she had called. She sighed with relief, finally becoming mobile again.
Still mortified by her reaction, she opted to look at Axe’s lips while she spoke, avoiding his eyes like the coward she had suddenly become.
“You did nothing wrong,” she asserted. “You… you’re great.”
She kissed him soundly on the mouth, practically tasting his bewilderment.
“I’ll call you later,” she declared.
Clutching her blazer tightly, she hopped out of the door before he could respond. She jogged through the light rain, quickly closing the distance between Axe’s car and the cab.
She flounced into the back seat of the cab, wondering just how she had gotten to this point.
She was so different from the woman she was a few months ago. She had become someone who was closed off, skittish even, almost completely blockaded in a lonely world of her own making.
What an emotionally unavailable cad she had become. She didn’t even give Axe the proper “Good night” address that he deserved.
Might as well have put him out of his misery with a vague concluding statement like “It’s not you; it’s me.”
But it really was Saturday. She was the one who was screwed up… so screwed up that she could barely be touched without running for the hills.
She looked through the window of the cab at the rain once more, instantly hating it now. Almost as much as she was starting to despise herself.
And today is the first day of spring. So much for new beginnings.
***
March 21
This month of March has been the longest of my life. Never knew that I could feel this low.
My confidence has plummeted to new depths. If only people knew how insecure I really am. But I’m not always this way…not when I’m around her.
When I get near her, I’m a new person. I morph into the best version of myself.
And it’s all because of her. I’m trying to show her how much she means to me.
Hope she likes the present I sent.
***
Two days later, Saturday sat in the corner booth of the Elgin diner, waiting for her lunch date. She felt anxious, unable to keep still as she waited for his arrival.
Suddenly, a tall, lanky figure turned the corner, heading in her direction.
It was Jay, her date, making his long limbed way over to her seat.
Saturday rose from her booth, hugging him affectionately before sitting once more. She watched Jay as he removed his jacket and seated himself.
He was graceful in his movements, languid as he settled in the booth. He noticed her watching him and gave her a wide toothy grin.
His crystal-blue irises were gallantly smiling as he reached across the table for her hand. Thank God for Jay. There was still one uncomplicated male relationship that she had in this city. She squeezed his hand in return.
Jay used his other hand to perfect the side-sweep in his platinum blonde hair.
“So, what’s with the emergency lunch, doll-face?” he asked, his handsome face contorted with concern.
Saturday hesitated, not quite sure how to break the news to her new “bestie,” as he liked to call himself. Jay was a moderately successful local painter whose recent work had been featured in the Clairvoyage gallery.
He was also flamboyantly and fabulously gay. No chance of a romantic implication there. And that was just the way that Saturday liked it.
Upon the conclusion of his first exhibit at Clairvoyage, he invited her out for a drink, and the friendship flourished from there. In the wake of Kara’s escape to L.A. on assignment, Jay had become Saturday’s partner in crime, personal cheerleader and confidant.
She knew how disappointed he would be when she told him about her “self-sabotage” episode with Axe the other night. She exhaled deeply before answering his question, closing her eyes.
“I ran out on Axe after our date the other night,” she relayed quickly.
Jay returned a look of horror at her admission. He placed a hand on his chest.
“Why?!” he asked.
“Because. Because of…him.” Saturday opened her eyes to look directly at Jay. “I got another package in the mail right before seeing Axe. Disney on Ice tickets.”
“Wow. That’s a great gift for a little cartoon geek like you,” he laughed. “He’s gooood,” he drawled appreciatively.
“Yeah…too good,” she responded gravely. “Certainly had me fooled.”
Jay’s expression turned curious.
“You kn
ow…” he said pointedly. “I’ve never seen a picture of him. Do you have any?”
Saturday turned mute, reluctant to answer Jay’s question. He took her silence as implicit agreement.
“You do!” he exclaimed. “Give.” When Saturday made no move, he continued. “I’m going to find out one way or another.”
SHIT. She believed him. Nobody had more of a knack for getting the scoop on anything like Jay did. She handed him her phone, directing him to last July’s photo album.
Saturday was no photographer; she would have had exactly zero pictures in her phone if it wasn’t for the ones Kara had taken.
This picture was her one exception.
She didn’t even know what it was that possessed her to take a photo that day. Maybe it was hyperactivity from all the iced coffee that she had been drinking. Maybe it was the beautiful weather they were having that afternoon. Maybe…it was just love.
But on that particularly sunny July day, she sat across from Mark by the window of her neighborhood coffee shop and took his picture.
It was a photograph of his profile, taken while he was momentarily distracted by the summer energy of the city streets.
The sun shone almost directly into his face, making his tanned skin glow, emphasizing the dark shadow of his bearded face. His jawline was sharp, his nose straight and narrow as the sun reflected off of the yellow in his aqua eyes, setting them ablaze. He was…
“Delicious,” Jay declared. “Damn, he’s hot. I get why he’s given you a case of the ‘sads.’ I’d have them, too.”
Saturday peered over at Jay who was still absorbed in the photo.
Yeah. Case of the “sads” would be putting it lightly. I’m still suffering from a bout of the “sads,” “mads,” “frightened” and “disturbeds.”
Behind the Blindfold: A Sexy Mystery Duet Page 15