by Willa Thorne
“Good evening, Jillian.”
The familiar male voice was friendly and it snapped me back to the present moment. The polite male voice was one I heard once every week on average. I looked up and smiled at Piper’s last client for the day.
“Mr. Collins, how are you?” I asked with a smile as I turned toward the screen.
“I’m very well this evening, thank you for asking. How are the wedding plans coming along?” He asked this as I pulled up his file on the program. I tilted my gaze up at him, confused. I didn’t speak about my personal life with clients, but he simply smiled and gestured toward the sparkling yellow diamond on my finger. As usual, it was slightly uncomfortable that he was asking about my wedding plans, but I reminded myself that he was just trying to be friendly.
“Oh, they’re great.” I answered.
“That’s good.” He grinned. “I’ll be out of town for a month or so, please make sure my appointments are canceled. I already informed Dr. Rochester.”
“Oh, alright. I suppose business this time of year is very… busy?” I asked, and frowned at my own choice of wording.
Mr. Collins chuckled and brushed a strand of dark blond hair from his eyes. “You can say that. I have two positions lined up in Ohio in the coming month. I’m not looking forward to it, but it’s business.”
“You’re going to Ohio? My family lives there. I’m actually going to see my mom and brother this weekend.” I blurted with a grin.
Mr. Collins inclined his head. “Is that so? I’m sure you are looking forward to that. Whereabouts?” His entire demeanor was so casual and he was so easy to chat with.
“They live just outside Cleveland.”
“That will be a very nice visit, I’m sure. I’ll be in and out of Dayton.” He smiled and dipped his head toward me in a polite gesture. “Have a lovely evening, Ms. Pryor.”
I couldn’t help but smile as Mr. Collins left the office. I wished every one of Piper’s clients was like him- friendly, polite and charming.
As Mason instructed, Rick was already waiting in the silver Benz, just outside the door of the building where Piper held her practice. Rick was exceptionally quiet and tense as he drove me home.
“Is Mason home?” I asked Rick as we neared The Darling Hotel.
“Yes, Ms. Pryor- Jillian, he is. He returned home early this afternoon,” Rick answered, but by the tone of his voice, I already knew that Mason was in a foul mood.
I sighed softly as Rick pulled to a stop just outside the hotel. He parked the car and then escorted me up to the penthouse. This was unnecessary and atypical, but I wasn’t going to argue with Rick over the orders Mason obviously gave him for this evening.
I entered the penthouse, and Gemma immediately greeted me with a wag of her tail. Her red collar jingled as she excitedly stuck her wet nose on my leg.
“Hey girl!” I giggled softly and I knelt on my knees to scratch her neck. “Where’s Mason?”
I asked that question too soon. I could hear him from the sitting room, on his cell phone. He was angry.
I frowned as I kicked off my heels and padded down the hall toward the direction of his demanding voice. I stood in the arched doorway, and watched him pace back and forth as he impatiently listened to whoever was on the other end of the line.
He juggled his cell phone on one shoulder while he held a glass tumbler of whiskey.
“I don’t give a damn what your people have to say about the cost. The value is considerably higher than that. No- you listen to me. I don’t care if you are up all night. Get me a better quote than that. That is inexcusable, and believe me, your reputation is on the line.” He ended the call without another word and downed the whiskey in one swig, just as his cell phone rang with another incoming call. I watched him stare at the screen, as though he was debating whether to answer the call.
With a grim, tightly set jaw, he answered his cell phone. The tension was written all over his face. I hadn’t seen Mason this stressed since his father was alive.
“Yes?” He answered. His demeanor towards the caller on the other end was a stark contrast from his last call. He was direct, yet forcefully polite. I don’t typically eavesdrop on his phone calls, but he didn’t know I was there, and I knew that something was wrong. Something was hovering over his head in the last few weeks. I couldn’t place my finger on it, and assumed that Mason was still having problems with those “blokes” and the company transitions. I waited in the hall as he continued his call. He listened quietly to the person on the other end of the line.
“Yes, I understand that. As I stated earlier, you will have your money. You gave me an unreasonable time frame and I need to travel to London to take care of some business directly.”
Even from the hall where I stood several feet away, I could see the knot form in his jaw. The corner of his perfect upper lip twitched into a snarl and his eyes were fiery as he listened to words on the other end.
My heart stormed in my chest. This phone call only confirmed that there was more to the simple story Mason had been feeding me over the last few weeks.
“You’ll have your money, Wei. You’ll have the bloody details about the building within a week. I still need to prepare a few arrangements…”
I watched Mason listen intently, raking his large hand incessantly through his black hair. He swallowed hard and his jaw was set firmly.
“Right then. Cheers.”
He ended the call, and stood in the middle of the sitting room. His fists knotted, and flexed, then knotted again. I was at a loss for what to say, so I simply watched quietly while he crossed the room toward the bar station. He poured himself a hefty tumbler of scotch and gulped it.
Okay. Enough is enough.
“What’s going on?” I asked, stepping into the light of the sitting room.
Mason looked up from his scotch, and immediately crossed the room. He appeared angry as he caught my gaze. I nearly took a step back from his intense, intimidating gaze. It could have seared holes through me… his stare was enough to make me want to take a few steps back.
Instead, I stared back directly and held my ground.
“Were you eavesdropping?” He demanded, gripping his crystal tumbler.
My eyes flared as I stared up at him. “Eavesdropping? Perhaps. But it wasn’t planned, Mason. I only just arrived home, and nobody asked you to take these calls in the sitting room. Besides, you’ve been feeding me bullshit and I know something is going on.”
I expected him to continue with his furious, tempestuous demeanor, but instead he quietly set his half-empty tumbler on the bar. He crossed the room and wrapped his large arms around me.
He held me tightly and his embrace caught me by surprise. “I’m sorry I took that tone with you. There’s some miscommunication over the sale of my family’s country estate. The realtor was trying to talk down the price of the property. She received an offer that was much lower than the true value.”
His voice was strained, but I knew his apology and explanation was genuine. I could feel his heart pommel within his chest at an erratic rate. Questions whirled around at a dizzying rate within my mind as he continued to hold me against his hard body.
Who is this Wei? I heard Mason mention his name on the phone as he promised him money. What has Mason so rigid and on-edge? I knew that he was giving me the truth in bits and pieces, but only in bits and pieces.
Mason clenched the fabric of my blouse within his fists as he spoke. It made no type of sense why he would be this upset over a low quote. Matters such as these never bothered him in the past, but he continued talking and I wasn’t about to interrupt him.
“As it turns out, my father had no real money. He shuffled money around from various accounts to make himself appear wealthier than he really was… he knew how to play the shell game very well.”
I was quiet as I listened, hoping he would explain more, but only silence followed.
“You owe money? A lot of money? Who is Wei?”
His fac
e was suddenly crimson when I asked that question, and he was irate. I did the only thing I could think to do in that moment. I reached up and caressed the side of his face. He needed to know that I was here to support him.
“I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”
I felt his black stubble lightly scratch the palm of my hand, and then he took my hand and kissed it tenderly. He kissed the white gold bracelet on my wrist, which held our initials J&M. The gesture was so soft and loving, and a complete contrast to the erratic, wild-eyed temperament he had just moments earlier. I waited and hoped he would answer my questions.
He leaned in and grazed my ear with his lips. “Pack a bag. You’re going to Ohio tonight.”
What? Tonight?
“I don’t understand. I thought I was going this weekend? It’s only Tuesday.”
Mason turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm and forced him to turn to me. “What is going on?” I demanded more firmly. “If you’re serious about marrying me, then you need to include me in plans and stop pushing me into the dark.”
Mason looked down at me, and his expression was so pained. Conflicted. “I will tell you everything, my darling, please just give me some time.”
I pursed my lips. “Are you in some kind of trouble? With the same people who tried to intimidate you before?” My voice was soft.
Mason debated his response. I know him well enough to understand when he is judging his own responses.
“Is this what our marriage is going to be like?” I asked with a sharp tone. “I’m not a fucking damsel in distress Mason. I have a degree in Social Work and I grew up in a tough neighborhood in Brooklyn. Stop keeping things from me.”
I grit my teeth.
“Please, Jill. You have to trust me. All in due time. This, I promise you. Everything- absolutely everything I do is to keep you safe, to give us a future. Just let me get over this one last hurdle.”
I was hurt by his cryptic responses, and also deeply concerned for what was troubling Mason. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of his bicep.
Mason kept his gaze down on me. The expression on his face was still pained and conflicted. Finally, he looked away.
“I have business to take care of in London. The company is getting sold and my family’s country estate...” he murmured.
I tightened my grasp on his bicep. “Are you in financial trouble?” I asked softly, fervently.
He turned and looked at me. “Yes. My father was in more debt than his pride allowed him to tell. He fell into debt with someone particularly dreadful.”
“I’ll still love you even if we have to move to a tiny loft in Queens,” I looked up at him.
His lip twitched, trying to fight a smile. He cupped my face within his hands and kissed me hard, lovingly and passionately.
“I know,” He whispered, then kissed my forehead, and smoothed a strand of wild hair from my eyes. “Give me a little time, and then I’ll answer every question you have. I swear it. Right now, I just don’t have all the answers.”
He has some answers that he is refusing to give. Secrets.
“Now, go pack a bag. I’m certain your mother and brother will be happy to see you a few days early.”
“What about work? Piper-”
“Already knows,” he finished my sentence. “She already phoned in a temp for the rest of the week.”
I stared at him, with my mouth nearly dropping to the floor.
“Mason you can’t drop me off to Ohio every time you have to go to London! I have a job. I have appointments!” I had hands on my hips, and the gesture reminded me of Elyse in that moment.
“This is the last time.” Then he stepped closer and his tone was more firm as he stared down at me. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you, I-”
“Then stop questioning me. I told you from the beginning, everything I do is to keep you safe. Go pack a bag.”
Keep me safe? From what?
He walked away, while in the process of dialing a number from his cell phone. I was left in the sitting room bewildered, and fuming. Of course, I was happy to see my family again, but that’s not the point. The point is that I am a grown woman, with a job, and my fiance is persistently shoving me into the dark with his secrets.
My hands were balled into fists. My face was hot from the anger. Why does he keep secrets from me? Does he think I’m incompetent? If that’s the case, why the fuck is he with me?
This is not over. I marched down the hall, and opened the door to his study just as he was staring at his cell phone. Tears stung my eyes. The secrecy was getting old and it was already out of control.
“Answer me one question.” I demanded.
He looked up with a stoic expression but the knot in his jaw tightened. My man never likes to be challenged. Well, too bad.
“What’s that?” He asked sternly.
My hand remained wrapped around the knob on the door to his study.
“How would you feel if it was the other way around? What if I was the one keeping secrets from you? Would you like to be kept in the dark from now on?” I stared at him directly.
Mason’s eyes blazed at my question, and his mouth was set in a grim line. Of course, he didn’t like that question.
“I already told you, I will tell you everything very soon-”
“Not good enough!”
Mason’s nostrils flared at my objection.
“Whether or not you think you’re protecting me, you have to remember one thing. I’m your fiance. I’m not some lady accessory for you to parade around when it’s convenient. I’m not here only for the good times, Mason.” I pursed my lips and bit down on my tongue to fight back the tears. It really fucking hurt that he wasn’t telling me anything.
Too late. I felt a drop trickle down my cheek. Followed by another.
Damn.
Mason’s brow furrowed, and his face fell when he saw the tear trickle down my face. He spoke gently.
“Jillian, everything I do is to protect-”
“Don’t feed me the same repetitive line.” I interrupted him. “I’m marrying you for you. If I wanted a knight in shining armor, I would have stayed away from you…” My voice trailed once that blurt escaped my lips.
Ouch. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s true; Mason has proven that he’s no saint. But I love him for the amazing qualities he does have. He genuinely loves me. I was just very frustrated that he’s clearly been keeping things from me. It’s also not okay that every time he has to go to London, I get shipped to Ohio.
The expression on his face was stormy. I struck a nerve and I knew the words that spilled out of my mouth were hurtful. We stood in his study, staring at one another in silence. I grabbed a tissue from a box on his desk and wiped my face. When the silence persisted, I spoke.
“Look, I love that you want to protect me. But, you can’t keep me in the dark and expect me to be okay with that indefinitely. I don’t keep anything from you and sure, my receptionist job is not as intense as managing thousands of employees, but I can’t put my life on pause every time you have personal troubles or business in London.” I frowned as I stated my piece. I needed to understand him, and I needed him to understand my perspective also.
Mason frowned, and raked a hand through his already disheveled black hair. It seemed that he’d been messing with it all afternoon from his stress. The expression on his face was pained and conflicted- a combination I’ve seen more than once in the last month.
Still, the silence ensued. I stated my thoughts, but I wasn’t going to push him any further. I want him to talk to me because he wants to talk to me, because he sees me as a competent equal, not because I harassed him into it. Nothing more was said, so I stormed out of the study.
I retreated into our bedroom with my laptop in hand, still fuming. He refused to talk to me. Even his explanation was cryptic and vague and he fed me the same lines on a repeated loop. The only piece of real information I had was the name Wei. Who was this g
uy and why did he have Mason Woodward so tense? I don’t think I have ever seen him wound this tightly about anyone before. It was enough to scare me, and I confess I contemplated whether I was being insensitive in the sitting room, considering the phone call I had just overheard…
After flipping open my laptop, I typed the name “Wei” into the search engine. Unfortunately, this name is quite common. I found search results for an Asian restaurant as well as a beauty salon. I only overheard the name, and so I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to be spelled. I only guessed on the spelling.
After a few random search results, I came across a random, old news article based in Las Vegas. A man by the name of Jian Wei was being praised for his International Casino chain. One had just opened in Las Vegas, according to the report.
On a whim, I googled the name Jian Wei into the search engine and a slew of articles popped up. I skimmed them. Most of them were blogs and articles, singing his praises for his various philanthropic pursuits. I found an entire profile on the man. Over the years, there were some allegations made about him on the basis of money laundering and even trafficking.
Trafficking? What kind of trafficking?
I couldn’t find a single article that went into detail, because these supposed allegations had been dropped before any charges were pressed. Weird.
I happened on one very old article, perhaps dating seven years back. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. There was a photo of Jian Wei standing outside the London-based building of J.A. Woodward and Company. There was no description, only a date. The men were shaking hands and smiles were planted on their faces. I pursed my lips.
My search was a dead end. How does a man face several allegations only to be dropped before charges are even placed? I found another photo of Jian Wei with a different man. The photo was based in Boston, and was taken with a man named Victor Doran, standing outside the city hall. There was no description to the picture, only a date indicating that the photo was ten years old. Just like his photo with James Woodward, he was shaking hands with Victor Doran. The two men were surrounded by several other suited individuals whom I did not recognize. Their smiles appeared smug. I had no idea who this Victor Doran was, but my online search led me nowhere. It only told me what I already knew- whoever this Wei person was, he already knew James Woodward while he was alive and was owed a great deal of money.