A Lover's Mask (12 page)

“That's right,” Mick agreed with a finger poised in the air. “I'm a mama-to-be and now nosiness is in my blood. So how'd you two meet?”

“He's the reason I left before the balloons fell at James Aston's New Year's party.”

“Oooooh! Ooooh! You scandalous hussy!” Mick bellowed, her amber gaze wide as she covered her mouth and wriggled on the bed.

County stiffened, her expression growing somber as her head bowed.

“I'm sorry County,” Mick apologized, realizing that her friend's new relationship had a lot to do with her sensitive mood. “Honey, is everything okay?” she asked, uncertain if she should question.

Contessa left the closet, and then joined Mick on the bed. “It's just so complicated.”

Mick bit her lip, fidgeting with the decorative edges of the hunter green and silver pillowcase as she debated. “Is he married?” she asked finally.

“Mick!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That's usually what
complicated
means,” she explained quickly.

County raked her fingers through her cropped cut before smoothing both hands across her skirt. “No Mick, he's very much unattached.”

“Well, then, what's the problem?” Mick demanded, her concerns clearly evident in her expression.

“He's wonderful,” County admitted, her face aglow as Fernando Ramsey came to her mind. “He's beyond wonderful. He's gorgeous and attentive and sexy and big—”

“Big. Big as in…”

“Big. In every way.”

Mick reclined on her bed, keeping the pillow in front of her stomach. “I thought you hated really big men—too overpowering.”

Contessa smiled with a shrug. “I guess I've had a change of heart. The man's incredible and he treats me like Heaven.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“Ah, Mick, where do I begin?” County sighed, flopping back on the bed. “There're just so many obstacles. For starters, I've got my suspicions about certain aspects of his business.”

Mick rested her head on the pillow. “Illegal suspicions?” she probed.

“Mmm. Then, there's his family and before you say it—” she started upon seeing Mick's mouth open. “This is completely different from what you and Quest went through. His father is nothing like Damon.”

“But
you're
Contessa Warren,” Mick boasted, nudging County's side with her big toe.

“That's right and my life is just fine without all that drama.”

“But you're in love.”

County's smile froze. “I didn't pick up on it nearly that fast.”

“It's a mama-to-be-thing.” Mick shrugged. “Besides, I've never seen you look so radiant or talk this way before. You're clearly in love with this man.”

Grunting tiredly, County left the bed and returned to unpacking.

“So who is he?” Mick asked after watching County rifle through her suitcase for close to a minute.

“Why?” County snapped and then cleared her throat.

“Don't you dare stand there and act like you're not gonna tell me who he is,” Mick chastised, propping her elbow on the pillow. “At least tell me if I know him,” she bartered.

County shook her head. “You know him,” she confirmed.

“Thanks,” Michaela chirped and relaxed upon the bed again, “now all I have to do is go through all the men we know in Chicago.”

“All right,” County smiled, not bothering to tell her friend that she wasn't even in the correct area code.

 

“What's goin' on, man?” Quest bellowed, pleased to find his first cousin on his front doorstep. He and Fernando shared handshakes and hugs, and then it was inside for drinks in the den.

“Did I interrupt anything?” Fernando asked after they'd chatted idly for a few moments.

A sly smile tilted the corners of Quest's mouth. “Unfortunately not,” he shared, knowing what his cousin was asking. “County just got in so she and Michaela will probably go out and then be up all night talkin'.”

“Contessa's here?” Fernando asked, his eyes narrowing to brown, deep-set slits.

“Yeah she—Fern?” Quest called, fixing his cousin with an uncertain stare. “Don't tell me?” he inquired softly, grinning at the look Fernando sent him. “Damn,” Quest drawled thoroughly shocked as he folded his arms across the front of his North Carolina A& T sweatshirt. “Why the hell haven't you told anybody?” he went on to ask.

Fernando stroked his beard and went to refreshen his gin. “She wants to keep it quiet…for obvious reasons. I did tell Ma, though.”

“I know she still has plans for a book on the family,” Quest noted, stroking the fine hair at his temple, “how do you feel about that?”

“I don't give a damn about that book. I only want her.”

Quest nodded, impressed yet surprised, in spite of the fact that he'd virtually fell in love with Michaela Sellars the first time he saw her. “I gotta admit it, man. I never thought you'd fall like this.”

Fernando set his drink down and rolled up the sleeves of the maple shirt he wore, “I don't know, Q. She's done somethin' to me and you may think I'm full of crap for saying this, but it goes
way
deeper than sexual.”

Quest nodded, his gray-black gaze sparkling with understanding. “So is Dark Squires still interested in her publishing house? I recall your saying something about it a while back.”

“I talked about it with Stef,” Fernando said, the easiness in his face fading just a little, “I convinced him to drop it.”

Quest's sleek brows rose. “I can't believe he didn't put up more of a fight. Your partner's a damn maniac when it comes to adding on to that company,” he noted.

“Well it wasn't easy,” Fernando admitted, taking his drink and strolling back to the armchair he'd occupied. “I think we're on the same page, though.”

“Have you told her you own part of the company?”

Fernando buried his face in his hands. “Q, man,” he groaned, his deep voice effectively muffled. “I tried, but the time is never right.”

“And it's not something you're looking forward to?” Quest finished.

Fernando looked up. “Bingo.”

“Tell her now, man,” Quest warned, even though he sympathized with his cousin's reluctance, “it's all too easy for something like that to come out.”

“You're right. You're right, but I'll have to handle it when I come back.” Fernando explained, downing a bit of his drink.

“Back?” Quest inquired.

“Let's just say Uncle Houston's about to have some company in jail.”

 

“Can't we just drive around and stop somewhere?” County asked, massaging her eyes.

Mick grimaced. “Not if we want something good. Besides we need to call and get a table so we can eat right after the show.” She patted her belly through the pastel blue tee she wore. “You got a pregnant lady here, remember?”

“Well, girl, this is
your
town. Tell me something.”

“Just keep checking the D's,” Mick instructed hastily. “Darens,
Darons,
I can't remember the name of that place where me and Ty had dinner a few weeks ago.”

“Well, I'm not having any luck here,” County complained and expressed a weary smile.

Mick tilted her head. “You've got the white pages, lemme see if I can go find a yellow book. I've been tryin' to get Ty on the phone, but I can't get through on her cell or at home. Probably laid up in bed with Quay—the freaks,” she muttered.

County grinned, but didn't look away from the phone book. “And look who's talkin' Miss Can't Stay Away From Quest Ramsey For An Hour.”

Michaela shushed her friend, then left the room to hunt down the yellow pages. Contessa browsed absently, until her search through the D's turned up something unexpected. Listed clear as day between Darjels Nails and Braids and Dark and Tantalizing Gentleman's Club was Dark Squires Communications.
They're right here in Seattle—the bastards,
County thought, drily replaying her conversation with Stefan Lyons.

“Well, well, this trip won't end without a visit to
that
office,” she vowed and reached for her book to jot down the number and address.

“A
re you sure?”

Fernando's gaze was solemn as he nodded toward his cousin. “Positive. Jeff Carnes confirmed…everything.”

“And
he's
sure? I mean, is this secondhand info or—”

“He saw it with his own eyes, Quest. He saw it.”

Quest smoothed both hands across the close cropped waves of his hair before standing from the chair he'd been glued to for the past twenty minutes. Once he and his cousin finished chatting about love and women, Fernando got to the point of his visit. It went without saying that he'd shocked his cousin to his soul.

“Have you told anyone?”

“Not even the managers at The Spot and this will affect them too.”

“True,” Quest agreed, massaging the brand in his left arm where the familiar ache had formed, “but it won't affect them near as much as it will the rest of the family. Does Aunt Josie know?” he asked, referring to Fernando's mother.

“I don't think so.”

“But you can't be sure?”

“I've been more observant of her lately,” Fernando said, brushing the back of his hand across his beard as he looked out over the back lawn, “I'd never really noticed the fear always in her eyes.”

“So what do you think?” Quest asked after several moments of silence.

Fernando shrugged. “I don't know what to think, but Ma's a strong lady. She doesn't act on impulse and can bide her time better than anyone I know. I think she always suspected Marc of being truly evil, but had no proof. I think she would've used it if she had.”

Quest nodded. “So what now?” he asked.

“I booked a spot on the next voyage.”

“That safe, Fern?” Quest whispered, coming to stand next to his cousin. “Someone might recognize you, you know?”

Fernando shook his head. “I'm willing to chance it. Jeff Carnes says Pops is very serious about keeping what's goin' on with the ship a secret—his partners don't know what we look like.”

“I don't know Fern. Hell, we're always in the news for some charity thing or business deal. Can you be sure no one knows you?”

“Look at what he's done to this family, Q,” Fernando snapped, shoving his hands in his black trouser pockets while storming away from the den's sliding glass doors. “Houston?” he mentioned, slanting Quest a fierce look. “The man's sick and instead of getting him help, he covers for him, gets a medical examiner to hide evidence. All that time Quay and Ty wasted out of fear, what happened with Yohan and Melina, hell he almost ruined you and Mick before you got started and then my mother…it's got to end, man.” He swore, waving his index finger in warning.

“But this is your life, Fern,” Quest continued to reason. “If someone recognizes you on that ship, you could be killed. You willin' to risk that?”

“Most definitely.” Fernando responded without a second's hesitation.

 

The stench was still there, clinging after all those years, Josephine would swear it. Oh sure, whenever Marc shared the bed, the sheets were in the garbage the next day—something no one knew but herself. Still, the stench was there—perhaps in her mind.
Now
in her mind. But once, it had been all too real. How many nights, how many days had she come in from taking the boys to school, the playground, church…to discover him laid up in bed with two sometimes three women. The fact that she knew seemed to arouse him more. Still, she did nothing. She continued to wear the mask, to carry out the facade and play the role of the lovely graceful Josephine Simon Ramsey.

She told herself it was for the boys, but the boys would have been fine. It was her. It went without saying that Marc held all the cards. He'd easily worm his way out of alimony, she'd feared back then. She'd have to get a job and then…oh, that would be too much. To go from the heights of society grandeur to cleaning toilets for one of the families who envied the power behind the name she wore. No, she would wait. It would all come to pass. The affairs, the outside children, the crimes…she would have her time and…she did. She had quite a few times.

The money she so desperately wanted to hold on to had afforded her more than a fine house, it had afforded her pleasure, such sweet pleasure. Crane Cannon entered her life and she indulged over and over again—reaping the most delicious desire, the most satiating revenge.

Marc strutted so proudly over his beautiful son. Josephine floated over the spectacle he never realized he made of himself—taking such pride in a child that wasn't even his own.

Now Houston was behind bars and it looked as though Marc had turned his back on him—else he never would have been caught. Unfortunately, she couldn't sit and wait for her brother-in-law to act accordingly. Houston wasn't strong enough to bring Marc down with him. She'd been sure giving Sera's diary to Mick would've rattled Houston enough to tell all, but it hadn't; not even when the police were carting him off to jail. No. It would take more and although she swore to never seek that help, time was running out. She feared her husband would once again escape what he so richly deserved.

 

“I could eat a ton,” Contessa groaned as she and Mick made their way downstairs.

“Ain't the truth,” Mick concurred fluffing her curls, “we're gonna shut the place down.”

County sent her friend a sly look. “With you for my dinner partner, I don't doubt it,” she said and flinched when Mick swatted at her head.

The two were still teasing each other viciously when they heard male voices rising from the downstairs den. Quietly, they strolled to the doorway and Mick laughed when she saw Fernando. County hung back, watching her friend become enveloped in the man's bear hug.

“Sweetie lemme introduce you,” Mick said, as she patted Fernando's chest, “County?” she called, waving her friend from the doorway. “You remember Quest's cousin? Fernando Ramsey, my best friend and publisher Contessa Warren.” Mick made the introductions, never noticing the emotion-filled looks passing between the two.

After a second or so, County could barely maintain eye contact with Fernando. She focused instead on his hand still holding her own. His fingers grazed her wrist with the slightest touch.

Mick had already moved on to tell her husband they were leaving and the moment between them grew heated as always. Quest was never bashful about kissing his wife senseless.

Of course, the steamy scene on the other side of the room only made things more difficult for Fernando and Contessa. She felt him tug on her hand. Her rich brown stare clashed with his translucent one and she quickly shook her head. Fernando's expression sharpened with agitation.

Thankfully, Quest and Mick's passionate kiss came to an end and she was turning to fetch her friend. Her lips parted in tell-tale fashion when she noticed Fernando still clutching Contessa's hand. She made no mention of it and simply asked County if she was ready and then told the guys they'd see them later.

Alone with his cousin, Quest walked over and clapped Fernando's shoulder.

 

Contessa was unusually silent on the way to the car. It had already been decided that she would be driving with Mick delivering directions. Mick waited until they were both seated inside her Infiniti SUV before she said a word.

“When you said he was big, you weren't just kidding.”

Contessa had been setting her seat belt in place when she heard Mick's comment. She frowned, watching as her friend calmly checked her makeup.

Finally, Mick turned with a sweet smile on her face. “Excellent choice,” she commended, with a saucy wink.

“Don't grill me over this please,” County begged.

“I have no intention of doing that,” Mick swore, raising her hand to testify, “but why are you so on edge about it? Fernando's great. Physically…magnificent and magnificent in other ways that I'm sure you're more than aware of.”

“It's not that simple Mick,” County argued, propping her elbow on the armrest and raking fingers through her short cut. “Fernando has a past that I fear is still very much a part of his future.”

“Well, I know he's had some dealings with some rough people,” Mick shared, folding her arms over the long-sleeved empire waist blouse she wore, “but all that other stuff he let go of years ago.”

“You can't be sure of that.”

“Well, dammit County, what the hell does it matter if you're in love with him?”

“Oh, hell, Mick!” County blurted with heavy laughter. “Your head is still in the clouds about love. I guess that's as it should be, but Fernando is nothing like Quest.”

“Really?” Mick challenged, turning to face her friend across the gear console. “He's sweet, kind, fiercely loyal and protective of his family—especially his mother and Yohan. But he's also very misunderstood. People look at him, think about his wild days and they're ready to condemn, throw it up in his face, making him relive it and never allowing him to escape it.”

County trailed her fingers across the scoop neckline of her gray top. “Do you think he
wants
to escape it?”

“Yes, Count. Yes, I do. But it doesn't matter what I think, does it?”

County blinked to keep the sudden rush of tears from wetting her lashes. It didn't work. “I don't want to get hurt Mick.”

“Said every woman who ever gave a man her heart,” Mick sang, leaning over to kiss her friend's cheek. “I know you won't walk away from him, though. Complications and all. He's the first man that you're praying to keep in your life for the unforeseeable future.”

“You're right,” County admitted with a slow nod. “But I know they're still so many rocks in our path.”

“Well, news flash, it's all right to be scared,” Mick soothed, patting her hand. “But tell him this, stop hiding the fact that you're together 'cause you're both terrible at pretending.” She said and nudged County's jean clad thigh as they laughed. “Now move it, I'm starving and in about ten minutes I'm gonna have to go the bathroom.”

 

“How many more injections will he need?” Marcus asked, leaning back in the desk chair at his home office as he waited for a response on the other end of the line.

“Only two more,” Dr. Harris White shared. “The man is already pretty unstable and with the medicine affecting his lucidity, his rambling will sound even more crazed. Now, tell me about this DNA test.”

“Houston will submit to the test based on the advice of his lawyer.” Marc assured the man.

Harris White grinned. “Of course he will, especially since
you're
retaining that lawyer. We're playing a deadly game here Marc,” he cautioned upon sobering from a round of chuckles, “what Houston knows could ruin us all.”

“That's only if anyone believes him and you're taking care of that,” Marc said.

“I'm drugging him,” Harris clarified. “It's up to you to make sure he's convicted and put away 'til we're all dead and buried. He's your brother and—”

“He's screwing with our business,” Marc interrupted, no trace of sympathy touching his voice. “Don't worry about my brother. He's on his way out.”

 

“Dammit,” Josephine cursed where she waited outside Marc's office door. With Houston gone and Wake who knows where, her husband would never be punished for his sinister deeds. She had no choice but to make that call. She would have to say, do whatever it took, to get Melina back to Seattle.

 

Contessa took a deep, satisfying breath of late night Seattle air and smiled. She and Mick had a great time that night despite the fact that once she got there, thoughts of Fernando almost ruined her appetite. She couldn't get him off her mind. Luckily, her best friend's incessant rambling on everything from backache to creative sexual positions for accommodating her growing tummy, kept County's spirits high. Soon, she and Mick were pigging out with the best of them. The evening was great, but now, back in her bedroom at Quest and Mick's, her thoughts were again focused on Fernando Ramsey.

Mick was right. So what if Fernando had a dark past and elements of that past were still a part of his present? She wanted—loved—him and he said he felt the same.

Oh, where was that carefree girl from New Year's Eve?
Just enjoy this County and don't let all that other mess creep in,
she told herself. Sighing contentedly, she rested her head next to one of the French doors leading out to her balcony. After five seconds, she turned and wasn't surprised to find Fernando leaning against her doorway.

“What are you doing here?” she still asked, waving him inside.

Fernando shut the door. “It was open.”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Unlocked.”

“Completely different.”

“You're right.”