BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (10 page)

Her laptop chimed. She’d been thinking of a reply but hesitated.

Shall I give you another word, Ms. Farrow?

All right.

Good. Your word is, discipline.

Her nose wrinkled at his selection. Own, claim, and now discipline? Maybe this guy was a little too intense. She responded.

Dog.

Interesting. Why dog?

You say discipline and I imagine a hand rolling up a newspaper and swatting a dog.

Did you have pets growing up, Ms. Farrow?

Yes, cats and dogs, but we never hit them. I love animals.

I’m curious what would make you associate the word discipline with a cowering animal.

I don’t know. I don’t like that word. I had a different reaction to it than the others.

I see. And what do you call it when you see a person in training running through the rain or a soldier crawling on broken bones and bloodied limbs to save a life? Is that not discipline? What of the guards that stand silently to protect their homeland or the child who struggles through school, despite his learning difficulties? The addict that recovers against all odds and continues to stave off temptation every day for the rest of his life? These are all admirable qualities to my way of thinking. And all require discipline. Do you not agree?

He completely flipped her thinking.

You’re right. I suppose I was thinking more along the lines of discipline in terms of modifying behavior. You’re interpreting it as an adjective where I saw it as a verb.

And now that w
e’
ve clarified, how would you respond in one word to the word discipline.

She thought for a moment and typed her answer.

Strong.

Very good, Ms. Farrow. Your amended answer pleases me and I agree with your choice. Discipline
is
strength.

Unprecedented warmth spread through her chest at his praise. It was bizarre, having such a reaction to a stranger’s opinion. Her skin heated and she found it difficult to look at the computer, which was ridiculous.

Before she could process her reaction, the laptop chimed again and she was analyzing yet another strange result. Anticipation—it bloomed the second her laptop notified her that he’d written more.

Next word. Chivalry.

That was an easy one.

Want!

Well, there’s some enthusiasm. No need to go on. I understand. Next word. Trust.

She breathed in a deep breath and slowly let it out. That was a big one. Trust was a lot of things. In any relationship it was necessary, especially when getting to know someone for the first time. Trust was weighed, earned, and then maintained. The truth was, trust wasn’t something she easily granted.

Cynical.

Are you simply throwing out an antonym, Ms. Farrow, or are you admitting to trust issues?

Trust issues. I used to be optimistic. Then I hit thirty.

I see. And you’ve applied this newfound pessimism to all future encounters, a sort of blanket approach?

She sighed. She never used to be pessimistic, but over time there had been so much disappointment. She really wanted that hopeful side of her to come back.

I suppose I’ve become a bit jaded with the selection out there.

It can be quite discouraging.

His response jolted her forward with a sense of camaraderie.

Yes! Some of the dates I’ve gone on were awful. I could write a book with the characters I’ve met.

Do you read?

Yes.

What genres?

All of them. I like romance and science fiction best, though.

Tell me your favorite male character from fiction.

Their conversation picked up pace, a quick volleying of Q and A that required minor contemplation and had her smiling. It was nice to have a conversation with someone other than her cat. Pair this with a nice dinner and one had themselves the perfect date.

Hmmm
…
Jordan Rider.

Tell me about Jordan. What appealed to you?

He was a pirate in an old romance I read when I was young. It was my first romance novel and my mother would have flipped if she knew I was reading it. Compared to what’s out now, it wasn’t even that bad, but Jordan Rider was the sexiest man I’d ever come across. I loved him. I still do, over a decade later. Just his name gives me chills.

What was it he did that was so remarkable?

It wasn’t what he did, but how he did it. He carried himself in a way real men can’t pull off. Everything about him was unapologetically masculine. Sometimes he could be rigid and demanding, but he never lost his temper except for this one time when any man would have done the same. But other than that he was perfect. He treated the heroine with such esteem, adored her, possessed her, handled her with the perfect amount of tenderness and strength blended into one.

You want a fairytale.

She laughed. What girl didn’t? Shifting on the couch, she bounced her foot and Thor gave her a disgruntled look for disturbing his catnap. They’d been chatting for quite a while. She had to use the bathroom, but didn’t want to miss a reply.

Of course. I’m a woman after all. We’re all hoping to someday find our happily ever after, our knight in shining armor. BRB

She scooted Thor off her lap, rushed to the bathroom and her computer chimed as she was washing her hands. Running back to the couch she snatched the laptop off the coffee table and quickly read what she missed.

What does your happily ever after include, Ms. Farrow?

Her lips twitched in a secret smile. Every incoming response added to the strange sense of giddiness filling her.

I think happiness is contentment.

He wasn’t doing more than asking her questions, yet his words stimulated some side of her brain that flourished under such personal attention. He made her seem interesting and that felt nice. Completely engrossed in their conversation, she anxiously awaited his every reply.

Are you not content with your life, Ms. Farrow? Scratch that. Of course you’re not. A content woman would not write such a letter to the local paper. I’ve read your letter several times and, after talking to you, I believe I can definitely help you.

What does that mean, exactly? Help me…?

You wanted to know what it feels like to be completely adored, if even for a short time. I’d like to get to know you, Scarlet. I believe you’d be quite easy to adore.

Her arms prickled with goose bumps. She liked when he used her first name. They were becoming more intimate with each other. Strangely, she wasn’t as freaked out as she had been earlier in the evening.

What did you have in mind?

The intoxicating build of anticipation flooded her as she waited for his reply.

First, I will require one thing from you. I’m not sure you’re capable of providing it at this time, but once you are, I think we should meet in person.

Oh, God. This was the point where he announced some ridiculous fetish that would surely be a deal breaker. Even with the elements of mystery, he seemed a bit too perfect.

She cringed as she typed her next question, dreading he might suggest she join him to sacrifice a goat or come to dinner wearing a strap-on. There were tons of freaks out there. Chances were he was one of them. Holding her breath, she hit send.

What’s the requirement?

Her breath left in a rush when his response appeared.

Trust.

Trust? That wasn’t weird, although it asked a whole lot. Relief came so swiftly, skepticism reflexively followed.

That’s it?

For now, yes, that’s it, though I don’t regard trust as a minimal entity. I don’t want us to meet until you’ve developed some level of trust. I’m not concerned with the time this will take. I’m typically a trustworthy person and I believe you’ll realize that. However, my endorsement of my own honor is worthless. You must decide if and when you trust me and at that point we can proceed.

Wow. Maybe there wasn’t anything impressive about his conditions, but for some reason his logic impressed the hell out of her, removing some lingering apprehension. His confidence influenced her decision as well. Perhaps that was the motive behind his spiel and she was just gullible.

Okay.

I’m pleased we agree. Trust is necessary to proceed. We’ll start with this, Ms. Farrow. What are your plans tomorrow?

She grimaced with self-disgust. Her schedule was, of course, wide open.