by Larkin Rose
Paige had been so pissed at her for such a bold move. For teasing her.
Mayson was a strong woman. She went after what she wanted. Hell, she seemed to do it without fear. Paige admired that in her.
She fingered the watch Vinden had given her.
Tick tock goes our clock. Unveil me, Fedora. Our time is running out.
Had their time ran out? Was that why Vinden hadn’t contacted her? Was the game now over?
Why, suddenly, did the punch of rejection not hurt as bad? Maybe because she’d found the answer to her sexual cravings without a mask, without a mystery, without the game?
Had she found that in Mayson?
Paige grumbled and read back over the texts while the TV flicked back and forth between worldwide news and more shots of the devastation in Jamaica.
How she wished she could be part of the cleanup. Wiping away someone’s tears. Playing with scared children, helping them laugh away their fears. That seemed so much more important than dancing, than cleaning up a damn park or a community this town seemed not to give a shit about.
She glanced back at the TV. Those people would be grateful for her help. She’d give anything to be there, right now.
Stupid fool! That was wishful thinking, wanting to be a part of something far greater than her tiny little charity. What Mayson was doing was priceless. The reward for such un-cowardly acts was so immense, undreamt-of satisfaction.
With a growl, Paige looked away. She scrolled through the messages again just to take her mind off Mayson. The answer was here if she could just concentrate.
Next bite is mine.
The image of Mayson towering over her, lifting the necklace to her mouth, fluttered to life.
Paige narrowed her eyes. No. That was crazy thinking. Mayson was not Vinden. Why in the world would she have to go to such methods to get a woman?
Exactly. She wouldn’t.
I wanted you where hopes go up and pennies come down.
The word pennies carried her directly to the fountain. The very one Mayson had shoved her in.
She lifted the charms on the bracelet. Two little girls holding hands. A silver mask. And a dollar symbol.
Again, her thoughts went directly to Mayson, and she growled out loud, disgusted with herself for thinking about her. Why couldn’t she stop?
Paige thought about the note.
I loved you 366 miles away.
She opened a link for MapQuest, and on a hunch requested the distance between Galveston and New Orleans.
“No fucking way,” Paige breathed as the mileage appeared on the screen.
Exactly 366 miles.
She looked back down at the bracelet. Two little girls. She and Mayson had been little girls when they met.
At the fountain.
…where pennies come down.
“No fucking way.” Paige forced herself not to overreact and scrolled back through the texts.
Vinden Gudinna.
“Think, Paige. For shit sake. Think!”
Maybe she was going about this all wrong. She punched the words Vinden Gudinna into the search engine instead of searching through the white pages.
Numerous sites came up, but not a damn one was in English. Every meaning was in some kind of foreign language. So she opened a translator site and put in the words. She narrowed her eyes as the translation appeared: Wind Goddess.
Once more, Mayson jolted through her mind, walking beside her on the beach. “Besides, in what other profession could I be nicknamed the wind goddess?”
“Oh my God.” Paige sagged as every riddle seemed to unravel and unwind in her mind. Fast, faster, the words, the riddles, came fluttering apart.
Wind Goddess: Mayson Montgomery.
The mask…the sex party…Mayson.
The dollar sign…the billionaire…Mayson.
The little girls…Paige and Mayson.
Where pennies come down…the fountain.
The mileage between here and New Orleans.
Tears filled her eyes.
Mayson was her mystery woman? Then? Now?
How could that be possible? How had she known? How long had she known?
A sob tripped over her lips. She didn’t know if she was mad or happy. Thrilled or disgusted.
She glanced up at the TV screen. Another shot of Mayson lifting heavy boxes blurred across the screen, followed by crushed surroundings.
Mayson Montgomery was her mystery woman. Mayson was the one behind the mask.
Fate, magic, or a pure miracle had led Mayson to the club, and to the bench, that night.
Another sob snapped out. This time, laughter bubbled with the sound.
Excitement raced through her. Mayson wanted her. A billionaire who could buy anything her heart desired, wanted Paige. She’d gone to desperate measures to give Paige what she wanted. To show Paige her fantasy could be reality.
And she was a hero, who used her money for the well-being of others.
She wanted Paige.
Did Paige want her? Was she capable of want? Was she capable of love?
Yes. She was. She could feel it fluttering with life in her gut, in her heart.
She wanted Mayson. Wanted the billionaire. Wanted everything she stood for.
Had Paige fucked it all up? Had she pushed Mayson away?
Without an ounce of hesitation, Paige pulled up her blog and let her fingers fly.
*
Mayson had never been so tired in her life. Okay, she had, but not when her stomach was knotted and her heart was heavy.
It’d been six days since she was hurled into the sky on her private jet. Though she’d barely had time to even take a water break, she’d had one hundred and forty-four hours to regret not telling Paige the truth.
She could have. On the beach. At her house. In a note. At the club. Anywhere. From the minute she figured out the truth. She had numerous chances to tell Paige who she was. Yet she hadn’t. She’d chosen to keep the game going. Chosen to continue to give Paige exactly what she wanted, terrified the truth would push her away once again.
A bulldozer rumbled from several feet away. That loud sound was all she’d heard for the past forty-eight hours. Yet despite the chaos around her, despite the devastation, despite the cries from survivors, all she could hear were the sounds of Paige’s release. No matter how hard she worked, no matter how fast she worked, those sounds followed her, tortured her.
She’d been moving nonstop after trailing in on the tail of Elena, rushing to unload the cargo, to set up camps amidst horrific sights. Homes, schools, even the local hospital, all gone. Parents and family members had grieved. And no matter what images of reality faced her, Paige had the power to overtake them all.
A child rushed past her, and Mayson managed a smile. She followed his departure to see more children running through the chaos like children do. Give a kid a ball and they forgot they didn’t have a place to lay their heads. They could bring joy and excitement to the most devastated situations.
She thought of Paige kicking that damn ball around the park.
They both were on the same page, both out to help those who needed a handout. So why couldn’t they both be on the same page with life? More importantly, with love?
Was Paige capable of love? Had her childhood misfortunes swept away her desire to care, to be loved? Was she content looking for and finding sex for the rest of her life?
Mayson couldn’t pretend to know what it felt like to be unwanted. Couldn’t pretend to know how Paige felt to be abandoned by people who should love her, especially a mother. But she’d sure like the chance to make Paige part of her own family, to make her feel love.
She wanted Thanksgiving dinners with her parents, grandparents, and the friends they’d accumulated over the years, all packed under one roof. She wanted to open Christmas presents with her, to kiss her on New Year’s, to celebrate the Fourth of July with goofy star-shaped glasses and fireworks. Both in and out of bed.
She wanted to spend the
rest of her life making Paige feel wanted.
Her gut told her she was too late. That Paige would reject her. Paige wanted the mystery. She wanted Vinden. Her departure in the middle of the night, after all they’d shared with skin against skin, proved that.
Seemed Paige only wanted the game. Mayson didn’t think she had it in her to be that for Paige any longer. Not when she could be everything her heart desired out from behind her mask. She wanted Paige to want her for who she was. It was obvious she didn’t want Mayson for what she had. Paige couldn’t care less about her money. Mayson adored that about her. Paige was that diamond in the rough. She’d found her. Twice. Three times.
Now, it was all over.
Out of habit, she pulled the cell phone from her pocket. Nothing. No signal. No bars. Her satellite phone had been missing since they entered the port. Not that she’d had time to actually miss it, but God, how she missed Paige. Missed the connection, even if only through a blog.
She wanted to read her thoughts. Wanted to know if Paige missed her. Even if she only missed Vinden, Mayson wanted to know.
Had Paige unraveled the riddles? The final riddle? If only she’d unveiled Mayson before disaster called her away. She’d been so close to finding out exactly what Paige would do.
Goddammit. She wanted to touch her. Kiss her. Make love to her.
So badly it twisted her stomach in knots.
“We got signal, Mayson.” Eric interrupted her thoughts.
Excitement and dread choked her. One way or the other, she had to tell Paige. Through her blog, email, Mayson didn’t care. She had to get this off her chest. It was a coward’s way out, but she couldn’t function another minute with this unpleasant weight tearing up her thoughts.
Mayson made her way to the trailer set up as the main headquarters and dove on the laptop. She went directly to Paige’s blog, bypassing business matters.
Paige deserved to know the truth. That Mayson was her mystery woman. That she hadn’t abandoned her, no matter what her decision was.
There were several new blogs on Paige’s website. Mayson tried to resist reading them, fearful that the Internet would vamp out before she could send a message. But she couldn’t help herself. She needed to know what Paige had been thinking. What she’d been feeling.
Hello, Vinden. Or do you prefer Mayson?
Mayson drew in an unsteady breath while her heartbeat galloped.
Paige had finally figured it out. She’d finally ripped off Mayson’s mask.
I, too, wanted you where hopes went up and the pennies came down.
I, too, fell in love with you 366 miles away.
I have now unveiled you.
I’m ready for our next adventure. Without your mask.
Come get me.
X…Paige
Chapter Sixteen
Paige hid in her office, away from the girls, away from Sam. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t function without wanting to hit something.
Another day had gone by without a word from Mayson. She’d called her out. She’d unveiled her.
Mayson’s silence told Paige everything.
She was done with the game. She was done with Paige.
Why the fuck had it taken Paige so long to figure out the riddles? Why had she pushed away the facts? That Mayson was begging for Paige to rip off her mask?
Dammit. She’d fucked up any possibility of them having a decent future. She’d fucked away every sleepless night of sex with Mayson. Every walk on the beach. Everything. She’d fucked up everything.
Again, she checked the blog. Nothing. Even her regular readers had gone quiet. Were they, too, waiting to see how this new scenario unfolded?
She could almost hear them collectively holding their breath.
With a quickening of hope, she checked the phone. Nothing. Not a fucking word.
Down the hallway, she could hear the voices of reporters. Every TV in the club had been tuned in to the chaos, tuned in to Mayson and her crew.
Paige couldn’t take it anymore, which was why she’d been hiding out, ridiculously addicted to checking the phone and the blog.
What now? What the hell was she supposed to do now? She had no desire to dance. No desire to do a damn thing other than buy a plane ticket to Jamaica, crawl across the destruction if she had to, and find Mayson. She had to see her. Had to talk to her.
Fuck! Fuck. This was torture. She was doing it to herself. This was self-inflicted pain caused by her selfish needs. Why did she have to do everything in life with a vengeance? She hated the same way. With a vengeance. Which was exactly why Mayson had finally thrown in the towel. She surely thought Paige a total bitch, unworthy of her time.
Would she ever see Mayson’s face again? Why did it turn her stomach inside out to think that Mayson didn’t want anything to do with her?
Sam rapped on her door. “Paige?”
“I’m busy, Sam.” Paige tapped her foot on the floor, ready to jump out of her skin.
Maybe she should grab a bottle of tequila, drive home, and get drunk. Drown her sorrows in the fiery spirit. She didn’t care about tomorrow’s hangover. Didn’t care about missing her routine tonight. The girls could manage without her. They were doing a damn good job without her already.
Sam entered despite Paige’s dismissal. “Someone is here for you.”
A surge of excitement rumbled through Paige. “Who?” She pushed out of her chair and started across the room.
“I didn’t ask his name.”
His? Paige grumbled. It wasn’t Mayson.
She followed Sam into the club and found a tall black man, hat in one hand, brown box with aqua blue ribbon in the other, standing rigid straight by the front doors.
“I’m Paige. Can I help you?”
“Hello, Miss Burton. I’m here to take you to your next adventure.”
Mayson!
Paige could barely breathe. Her heart swelled and her insides ached.
Love. This feeling, these harsh emotions, were love.
She was in love with a billionaire.
But not just any billionaire. A billionaire who gave up part of her life to help others.
The man held the box out to Paige. “Miss Montgomery asked me to give this to you. You’re to open it before we leave.”
Paige took the box, butterflies choking the life out of her.
She tore off the ribbon and jerked off the lid. Inside, she found a pair of leather work gloves and a note.
Wouldn’t want you to get those pretty hands dirty. Your next gift awaits. If you dare.
Paige glanced up at the man, biting back tears of excitement.
She spun around to face Sam.
Sam only grinned. “I got the gist, idiot. Go!”
Paige spun back around and took two steps before she remembered the evil orange cat. “Damien? Can you take care of him for me?”
Sam arched a brow. “I consider him a gift. Now get the hell out of here!”
Without a second thought of doubt, Paige followed the man to a black limo. On the seat she found another present.
She quickly tore into it while the driver pulled away from the club. T-shirts. At least two dozen. In almost every hue of the rainbow.
Another note. Sorry, didn’t have time to shop for Salvation Army hand-me-downs.
Paige smiled. She felt like a giddy teenager. Alive. Elated. So full of adrenaline she feared a squeal was about to rush past her lips.
When the driver veered off the freeway, Paige leaned forward. “Sir? Where are we going?”
He tipped a gaze at her through the rearview mirror. “My instructions were to take you to your home to retrieve your passport.”
Passport? Where the hell did Mayson think she was sending Paige? And why didn’t it matter? Lucky for Mayson, and especially for Paige, she happened to have one. For six years now. Her decision to vacation in New Orleans hadn’t been her first option. It hadn’t been an option at all. But thanks to an error on the airline’s side, they’d mis
takenly booked her on a flight to New Orleans instead of Jamaica, where she longed to visit the home of a legend, Bob Marley, her grandmother’s favorite musician. She’d talked about him nonstop and their home was always filled with the sounds of reggae.
Ironically, the museum for Bob Marley she’d planned to visit in honor of her grandmother and her love for his music was in Kingston, Jamaica, the very soil Mayson was now rebuilding.
Had fate made that error possible all those years ago? Had fate lead her to the Big Easy, to a masked party, and directly to Mayson?
After retrieving the passport from her house, Paige stared out the window from the edge of her seat all the way to Mayson’s beach house, down the driveway where the gate was already open.
When the driver continued past the house, along the drive leading toward the back of the mansion, Paige sat up. “Where are we going?”
“To the helipad, ma’am.”
“What the…?”
Paige had never been on a helicopter. Not even the ones at the carnival. Come to think of it, she’d only been to a carnival twice in her whole life. Both times with her grandmother. Those two times probably took every dime she’d managed to save in a year.
She was the best thing that ever happened to Paige. The person she was today was all thanks to her grandmother. Due to hard work and a firm hand, she’d taught Paige how to find her own way in this world. How to go after all she wanted.
Paige had done that. Fought hard to achieve her goals.
Now love had found her. Several times, as a matter of fact. She’d just been too stubborn, too angry with the world, to grab hold.
Not this time. This time she was going to wrap her arms, legs, her whole fucking body, around it and never let go.
A golf cart appeared almost as soon as the driver parked near the helipad. The same blue helicopter that had always made Paige growl in jealousy was dead ahead, blades whipping around with a chugging, whooshing sound that sort of sucked at the air.