Behind the Blindfold: A Sexy Mystery Duet

by Natalie E. Wrye

  “That’s a bit unconventional for a man as young, attractive and successful as he is, don’t you think?

  “He was waiting for the right sign, the right woman. And you appear to be that woman, Saturday.”

  He checked the watch on his wrist.

  “I’m so sorry to cut our conversation short, but I must take my other appointment at this time.”

  He stood from his chair, prompting Saturday to do the same.

  “Anytime you’d like to return, Saturday, please… just give me a call, and we can set aside more time to speak.”

  He extended his hand to shake hers, and she clutched his in return, not knowing what to do or how to respond next.

  Flashing a weak smile, she extended a small “thank you” to the doctor before grabbing her purse and making her way out of the door.

  She shut the door upon exiting, floating her way past the secretary and next patient (some sullen girl on the waiting room couch).

  Stumbling numbly through the motions, Saturday finally crash-landed on the curbside outside of the office building, her emotions now hitting her all at once.

  Her panic had finally started to subside, but it was being replaced by something even stronger… and something definitely harder to deal with.

  Confusion.

  She had come to Dr. Walt’s office, hoping that a talk with the therapist would provide her with greater clarity: that finally she would be able to categorize Mark.

  She walked in that afternoon, wanting black or white, only to find herself falling deeper into a spiral of gray. And now, she was staggering out of the office with more questions than answers.

  She appreciated the doc’s honesty, his willingness to be forthcoming with her, but what should she do now?

  Where does that leave me with Mark?

  Several seconds ticked by before Saturday remembered.

  She didn’t just quietly leave Dr. Walt’s.

  She was stopped by a voice.

  The doc’s voice… from behind her… right as she reached for the door.

  “Talk to him,” he commanded, capturing her attention.

  “Now’s the time. He’s ready to share. Trust me.”

  Chapter Seven

  The Postman always Rings Twice

  The next morning, Saturday found herself shopping for new paintbrushes with Jay.

  She kept quiet about her visit to see Mark’s therapist, choosing to respect Mark’s privacy above her need to vent.

  Mark was starting to entrust her with his secrets and, as separate as she tried to keep her feelings out of the equation, a part of her still maintained a loyalty to him.

  Her relationship with Axe was now a thing of the past.

  With her being stuck on this “situation” with Mark and Axe being stuck on… well, himself… there wasn’t much effort that either one of them could put into a relationship at this point.

  After the fainting fiasco… followed by the bathing incident with Mark, she had called a disappointed Axe, breaking it off in as gentle a way as possible.

  She just hoped that she didn’t live to regret that decision.

  A buzz from her phone interrupted her stream of consciousness. She checked the incoming text.

  Mom:

  Your dad and I are going back to the hospital. He is experiencing severe pain in his chest. We think he may be undergoing another heart attack. Another attack so soon could be fatal.

  Dammit! “Dammit!”

  “What? What’s the matter?” Jay whirled on her, his face tight with worry.

  “Shit… did I say that out loud?” I’ve got to work on that brain-to-mouth thing.

  “Nothing…” Saturday continued. “I mean… well, it’s not nothing, but…” She exhaled in frustration.

  “My dad’s going back into the hospital. My mom’s taking him. I don’t know… I hope he’s not suffering from another heart attack.”

  She dropped the paintbrushes back on the shelf.

  “I have to go to him,” she resolutely declared.

  Saturday started for the door before turning back to face Jay.

  “Can you come with me?” she asked, a hopeful look on her face.

  His worried expression turned sorrowful as he wrapped his arms around Saturday.

  “Oh, doll-face,” he said. “I really want to but I can’t. I’ve got that exhibit tomorrow, remember?”

  Oh, right.

  Saturday did remember.

  Jay had a really big showcase that he was being featured in tomorrow in the city. It could prove to be a huge launching pad for him.

  This was his livelihood, his work.

  Work.

  Hm. I used to remember a little concept called work.

  Saturday had fairly free weekends recently since her shifts had changed at the Greenhouse. And Vicky, her Clairvoyage boss, had always gifted her with flexibility.

  However… with the willy-nilly way she had been missing hours at both of her jobs, Saturday feared that she just might find herself out of work… and subsequently, out on her ass… if she had no money to afford rent.

  But still…

  These were her parents. And she only had the one pair.

  I’m going.

  She hugged Jay again, releasing him after a quick squeeze and then checking her phone for cheap flights as she quickened her pace out of the supplies shop.

  ***

  When Saturday arrived at her father’s hospital room this time around, Thomas Blake was awake… and lively.

  When she left him after his first stint, he was in and out of sleep, barely able to keep his head upright as he drifted in and out of a foggy, drug-induced doze.

  Now he was sitting up in his hospital bed, talking animatedly to Saturday’s mother and a nearby nurse.

  He beamed when he saw Saturday.

  Actually. Beamed.

  Stunned, she awkwardly reached out for a hug from her father, wondering how a man who was just facing death could be so… spry.

  Her mother responded to the question in her eyes.

  “It seems that your father was suffering from early pericarditis, not another heart attack,” the elder brunette stated, clutching her chest.

  “After a heart attack, some swelling and inflammation takes place as the body repairs itself, causing chest pain among other things.

  “They’re going to keep him under observation for a little while. Maybe a day or so… just to be sure.”

  “I’m fine!” Thomas grunted, pulling Saturday’s gaze from her mother’s face to his.

  His hazel-colored eyes were smiling, even as he winced in pain while shifting in bed.

  His (surprisingly still full) head of sandy hair was still neat and in place, causing everything from the neck up to clash comically with the blue nightgown that adorned his broad figure.

  The redheaded nurse placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Now, don’t over-do it, Mr. Blake. There are still some tests that we’d like to run on you before we can give you the OK. So, be sure to take it easy, alright?”

  “You’ll be sticking around here a little while longer.”

  The nurse smirked playfully at him, whipping her chin-length bob as she winked at Saturday and disappeared out of the door.

  Saturday’s mother looked back at her father.

  “She’s right, Thomas. You need rest more than anything right now.”

  He shook his head firmly at Karen Blake, shutting his eyes with intensity.

  “No, what I need right now… are my two favorite girls.”

  He reached a hand out for Saturday, pulling her back into his embrace once she came close enough.

  Karen Blake joined the hug and for one full minute… no one talked, made a move or created sounds.

  It was a completely wordless action… but its impact was overwhelming.

  This hug was the most prolonged contact the three of them had had in what seemed like forever.

  The tears flowed silently and softly as they al
l took the opportunity to just bask in the loving touch of one another.

  When, at last, they broke apart, they each grabbed for tissues, wiping at the corners of their eyes, attempting to stem further water shed.

  Even Thomas Blake had to dab at one shimmering eye.

  After composing themselves, Karen Blake was the first one to speak.

  “Saturday, let’s go outside and make some arrangements, ok? We want to make this hospital stay as comfortable for all of us as possible.”

  With a small squeeze on both of their hands, he let Saturday and Karen go, and the two lady Blakes retreated to the waiting room where they made their plans.

  Part A of the plan: They would ride to the family home together and grab the necessary items for Saturday’s dad so that he could maintain some sense of peace while he underwent regulatory procedures.

  Part B: Return with the items; set them up in his room and call to check availability at the nearest (and nicest–per Karen’s request) hotels to the hospital so that they could stay within short range of Thomas for the duration of his visit.

  Ok. Ready? Set? Break!

  And they were off, jumping in Karen Blake’s Benz convertible to make the fastest trip possible back to the Blake household.

  They grabbed anything they could think of: razors, robes, music, snacks (the healthier ones, of course).

  An hour later, they were heading back to the hospital, setting up Thomas’s belongings as if this were his very own room.

  Having chosen the Hyatt on their way back to the hospital, Saturday left her parents together in her father’s hospital room, while she took a trip directly to the hotel to book the room.

  She took a half-hour detour at a nearby grocery store, grabbing a couple of toiletry items before directing the Mercedes back on a path to the hotel.

  When she gave her keys to the valet, she shook her head at herself for following her mother’s lodging suggestion.

  This Hyatt was luxurious… and overpriced.

  It’s only a couple of days. Did we have to be this extravagant?

  She reached for the faux-golden doors, feeling a chill as the central air blasted the loose tendrils of her high, messy bun.

  Immediately self-conscious upon entering, Saturday smoothed the wrinkled lines out of her airplane-tumbled, floral-patterned dress as she ambled over to the hotel front desk.

  The young desk attendant, however, was too preoccupied with his cell phone to notice her presence.

  She cleared her throat loudly, hoping to grab his attention.

  “Excuse me,” she squeaked. “I’d like to book a room for two nights, please.”

  Ten seconds passed without a hint of an acknowledgement from the boy.

  “Excuse meee,” she sang louder.

  “I am looking to check in to this hotel, so can you please assist me with booking a room for two nights, please?” she bellowed, emphasizing the last word.

  “Make that two rooms,” a voice thundered from behind her.

  The attendant finally looked up… and so did she.

  It was Mark… and he was standing directly behind her, setting his heated green gaze on the young man behind the counter.

  The fledgling hotel employee stammered as he tried to pull himself together under Mark’s intense scrutiny.

  “Uh, yes, sir… right away. You said… t-two rooms, yes?”

  “Yes,” Mark answered richly. “Two rooms.”

  Saturday could do nothing but gape at Mark as he settled in beside her making arrangements to book two luxury rooms in the building.

  He charged his credit card with one room with two queen beds… and a second… with one California King.

  Her wide eyes roamed over him in shock, her pupils still not transmitting to her brain that he was actually standing there… in his white t-shirt and low-slung jeans… just casually giving instructions to the hotel worker.

  He wore a blue baseball cap on his dark hair, giving Saturday flashbacks of the first time she ever saw him: with his hat tucked low and his voice molten honey.

  When he received the room cards from the employee, he turned to Saturday, offering up one of the keys to her lifeless hands.

  She made no move to take the key.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally breathed out, his presence stealing every bit of sound in her small throat.

  He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, surprising Saturday with a nervousness that she had never seen in him before.

  Mark was almost always confident, almost always commanding in his speech, in his movements.

  Two seconds ago, he had taken full control of her hotel arrangements.

  Now, he seemed uncharacteristically unsure, placing his hands stiffly in his jean pockets as he opened his mouth to speak.

  “I spoke to Jay,” he said, unblinkingly.

  “Once Dr. Walt told me that he spoke to you, I tried to reach out to you. When I didn’t get a response, I took steps to find you, which ultimately led me to Jay.

  “He told me you were here… alone. And he told me what happened to your father…

  “I know how complicated your relationship with your parents has been, but I also know that you wanted to be here for your dad. And I just thought... that someone should be here… for you, as well.”

  He attempted a casual shrug, his muscular arms and shoulders tensing, as he elevated them briefly and let them drop.

  Saturday was utterly speechless.

  He was trying to make it seem like it was no big deal, but she could see the worry in his half-hidden eyes.

  He had dropped his life… to fly all the way out to a virtual bum-fuck Bellevue.

  He had no plans here, no speaking engagements or exhibits. He had packed up, taken a flight… just to be near her.

  And this is Beaumont. World-famous artist. A man with publicists, lawyers, managers, fans, assistants. A man on which an entire entourage’s livelihood depends.

  And he dropped everything. For me.

  Feeling a sentimental flush start to rise, Saturday kept her mouth moving to keep her knees from going weak.

  “And how did you know I was here? At the hotel?”

  “I spoke to your mother,” he remarked –nonchalant.

  “Y-you did?” Now she was stuttering like the bellboy at the desk.

  “H-how’d you find her?”

  He smiled shyly, biting his lip ever so gently, creating an ache in Saturday’s belly.

  “I’m resourceful… remember?”

  Saturday scoffed with mirth.

  Oh, was he ever.

  He had acquired Saturday’s own phone number without her knowledge, calling her out of the blue, when she least expected it.

  But he was wealthy: influential… and she was slowly coming to realize that almost anything he wanted… was in his power to obtain.

  Including her. Once.

  She wiped non-existent strands of hair from her face, needing to do something with her hands: hands that itched to reach out and touch him.

  “Ok, so… I have to meet with my parents, settle a few things first before my mother and I can come back to the hotel.”

  He nodded slowly.

  “Sure, yeah. Of course.” He cleared his throat. “What can I do to help?”

  Saturday mulled his question over, secretly knowing that she would never be able to focus if Mark accompanied her.

  “Umm… nothing right now,” she replied. “Just… uh, get comfortable, you know… and uh… welcome to Washington, I guess.”

  She cringed at her lack of elegance.

  “I’ll be back,” she declared, stronger this time.

  “Then I’ll be here.”

  He stood there, staring at her, regarding her carefully.

  She offered an awkward wave before turning on her heel to head back out of the hotel.

  When the valet returned with her mom’s car, she kicked the Benz into high gear.

  Now, her true reaction was starting to sink its way in. Sh
e gripped the wheel of the car with shaky fingers, barely using her turn-signals to weave in and out of traffic.

  Ok, focus on the road, Saturday. You don’t want to end up in a bed right next to your father right now, do you?!

  Potential car accidents aside, she really could not believe that Mark was there… back at her hotel… waiting for her…

  ***

  When Saturday returned to the hotel two hours later, the sun had set, and she feared the worst.

  Is he gone?

  She had left Mark in the lobby, neglecting to call or give him any notice of how long it would take before she’d return.

  When she had darted nervously into the Hyatt lobby with her mother at her side, Mark was still there, waiting on a nearby couch.

  He rose from the sofa, stretching long and leanly as he stood to his full height.

  He came forward in a few gallant strides, holding a large brown bag in his arms.

  “I stopped by a bakery around the corner from here. I didn’t know if you two would be hungry.”

  Smacking her lips together, Saturday approvingly accepted the bag from his large hands.

  Her mouth was watering… but it wasn’t because of the food.

  “Thank you,” she spoke softly. “Mark, I’d like you to meet…”

  “Karen Blake,” her mother interjected, stepping forward. “It’s nice to put a face to the voice.”

  She reached a hand toward Mark, who held it affectionately.

  He smirked warmly.

  “Yes, Mrs. Blake. So glad to meet you.”

  “And you,” she replied, batting flirty eyes at him.

  Saturday stepped between them, surprisingly indignant.

  “Ok, mom, let’s go set things up in our room, ‘k?” She tugged a little too insistently on Karen’s arm.

  Finally, Karen took her eyes off of Mark.

  “Yes, of course, dear. Let’s. I think I need to call it an early night, anyway. What a long day it’s been.”

  Karen turned back to Mark, reflecting his signature move back to him: a wink, of course.

  “Nice to meet you, Mark,” she hummed.

  He flashed a devastating smile, stealing the breath of both of the Blake women.