BLIND: A Mastermind Novel (16 page)

“When I was in high school I dated someone who wasn’t very nice. I don’t know why I went with him, but I did. Peer pressure I guess. We dated on and off throughout my senior year, mostly for dances and stuff. I do
n’
t think I was ever the same after dating him.”

His mind immediately recalled Westerman, his arm draped around Scarlet’s freckled shoulders peeking from her purple homecoming dress. “What did he do that made him not nice?”

She sighed, the sound soft and seemingly tired. “He was a jerk, always obnoxious and garish. I hung around with a lot of athletes, so no one was really quiet, but he never quit with the high energy. He was also a big guy, so he had no problem demanding everyone’s full attention.”

It had to be Bobby. “Was he ever not nice to
you
?
”

“Sometimes.
”
Pressure built in his chest as he awaited her answer, a true glimpse of the girl he loved many years ago.

He wasn’t sure which side of the coin he favored. So many times she’d stood there, allowing Westerman to humiliate him. Perhaps she’d earned a share of his cruelty because she allowed it to continue, even when he’d taken things too far—far enough to cause a seventeen year old to piss his pants, far enough to disgrace them until they begged with tears in their eyes. All while she simply stood there.

But to imagine Scarlet being victimized by that same tyrant filled him with a sort of impotent rage. She was a girl. It was one thing for Westerman to brutalize them, but not her. Never her. He couldn’t understand
why
Westerman would be mean to her. She was his girlfriend and better than he ever deserved.

Because some people are just bad people.

Trying not to lose himself in unpleasant flashbacks, he whispered, “How did dating him change you?”

“I lost my virginity to him.”

Whoa. All recollections stopped as he gave her his full attention. Scarlet. Scarlet Farrow having sex. All good images. Scarlet Farrow having sex with Bobby Westerman. Oh, dear God, no. He cleared his mind. “Was he a disappointment in that aspect?
”
Please say yes.

She laughed, but without humor. “I think he was exactly what I should have anticipated.”

What did that mean? She’d dated him, so there had to be some redeeming qualities to the guy that Asher and the rest of the world had missed. “What do you remember feeling, emotionally speaking?”

“Scared.”

His stomach plummeted and his jaw went slack. Her confession was raw, her disquiet contagious. “Why scared?”

“I always assumed we’d eventually do it. I just didn’t expect it to be that night. I wasn’t ready, but that didn’t seem to matter to him.”

Oh, God. Why had she ever involved herself with that asshole? “Did you tell him no?”

“Not the way I should have. We were at our senior homecoming dance.
”

The story suddenly turned personal. He recalled exactly what she was wearing, even how she had her hair.

“All night he’d been acting a little more possessive than usual. After the dance we went to the cliffs to drink with some friends and I ended up in the backseat of his car. I remember thinking it wasn’t supposed to happen that way, in a car with our friends only a few feet away. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I wasn’t really firm when I told him to slow down.”

His stomach hurt, unexpected nausea forcing him to breathe through his mouth. Imagining that sweaty animal touching her was grotesque. “Did he hurt you?
”
He wanted to ask if she remembered anything from earlier in the night, but this was more significant.

She laughed, the sound hollow and cold. “
It
hurt. It was my first time and we weren’t in the most comfortable place. But most of the pain came afterward. When he was done, my dress, that I had so painstakingly chosen, was wrinkled and split at the seam. He left the car as soon as he’d finished and I could hear him bragging to everyone. I just sat there and cried for the rest of the night. Never once did he come check on me. I felt so used and the worst part was…
”

He’d
warned her. He’d told her Westerman was only using her. The culmination of his prophecy brought no comfort in the end. He hated knowing she’d been hurt, which was exactly why he had warned her in the first place. “I’m sorry, Scarlet.
”
She’d never know how true his sentiment was in that moment.

She drew in an audible breath and released it slowly on what sounded like a cleansing sigh. “It was a long time ago.
”
He gave her a moment to recover. “Wow. I haven’t thought about that night in years.”

“Some days are just all around bad.
”
That day had been a defining nightmare for him as well. “Why did
n’
t you—” His words abruptly cut off as he’d almost slipped. Rephrasing his question, he said, “Did you break up with him?” He knew full well she hadn’t, but wanted to know why.

“Yes.”

He frowned. That was a lie.

But then she said, “It didn’t stick. We were always with the same friends and he’d never let anyone else speak to me. If he saw another guy flirt with me, he… It just wasn’t worth it.”

Asher swallowed, never imagining she might have been with him against her will. “I assume there were other times. Did it get better?”

“No. Sometimes it got worse. Graduating was my only escape. Sometimes I think back to how much I endured and I wonder how I did it.” She was quiet for a moment. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I was…thinking.” He’d been so wrong. His perspective was suddenly skewed in a way he couldn’t grasp.

She distracted him again as she said, “Tell me a moment from your childhood that changed you.”

Jarred by her request, he took a moment to regroup. She’d earned some of his empathy, which was unexpected. Having no intention of sharing his personal business, he quickly scrambled for a defining moment in his life, searching for one that could be generalized without giving away too much.

“My mother had breast cancer.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Her compassion tempted softer emotions, but failed. It had been a terrible time for all of them. “I’ve always been extremely close to my mother.”
Still am
.
“When she was diagnosed I thought my world would end.”

“That’s terrible.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. Swallowing, he confessed, “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, but my mom always acted like they were waiting just around the corner. No matter my shortcomings, she’d always assured me things would get better. She always believed that too. She was my best friend for most of my childhood. Every dream I had, I never had to worry that she might mock me for it. She was always right there, supporting my goals.”

“She sounds like an incredible mom.”

“She is.
”
Stifling the surge of relevance, he said, “It took her three years, but she eventually beat it. She had a mastectomy and came back like a prizefighter. She’s incredible.”

“How did your dad handle it?”

His dad was incredible too. “It was difficult. We all feared losing her. He stuck by her side and never lost faith she’d overcome that just like she overcame every other challenge dropped at her door. You’d never know she had a mastectomy. She’d lost her hair, her breasts, and half her body weight, but to us she was always beautiful.”

“Wow. I can’t imagine being loved so unconditionally.”

They fell into a weighted silence. He was losing himself. Asher was surfacing when he should be performing as the impenetrable Mr. Stone. He turned the conversation back on her. “Did your parents have a pleasant marriage?”

“Yes, but nothing like that. My parents aren’t very expressive when it comes to affection. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen them kiss.”

“Really?”

She laughed. “Yeah. It’s kind of sad. I mean, they love each other, but with a quiet commitment instead of a lurid passion. I’ve never seen them fight either, that I can remember. They’ve always been sort of private, I guess.”

Things were getting very comfortable. The progression of their relationship was moving faster than he’d expected. Things either had to slow down or he needed a back up plan, because she wasn’t the only one getting lost in their connection.

“Would you like to grab a drink this week?
”
she surprised him by asking. “I mean
…
we don’t have to. I don’t want to rush things. It’s just
…
I feel—”

“Scarlet.
”
He said her name because she sounded flustered. “Take a breath.
”
The sound of her drawing air into her lungs echoed softly over the line.

“Sorry. I just thought…I’m really enjoying talking to you.”

God, me too. Maybe too much
.
“I’m enjoying it as well, Ms. Farrow, but I’m not sure we’re there yet.
”
He needed to protect himself.

“Oh.”

Her evident disappointment filled him with regret, but he had to play this smart. She couldn’t discover who he was, especially after talking so much about a school they’d both attended. It would be a betrayal of trust for her to figure out who he was, something he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know, but the temptation was there, begging for him to have faith in their chemistry and come clean. Yet, he lacked the courage, fearing her reincarnated rejection. “We’ll give it a little more time.”

“Okay. That’s probably wise.”

Smart or stupid, he needed more time. Her willingness to meet him was a shock. He never earned this sort of reaction from women. He needed to think. “I’m going to say goodnight now.”

“Is…is it because I asked you out?”

Was she insane? He kept his tone even. “No. It’s because we’ve spent a lot of time discussing some heavy topics and I think we should both sleep. I’ll call you in the morning around nine.”

“Okay.
”
Her voice was tinged with relief. “Oh, wait. I have work.”

“What time do you get home?”

“Four.”

“I’ll call you at four-thirty.”

“Okay.
”
He detected a smile in her voice.

“Goodnight, Ms. Farrow.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stone.”

Ending the call he fell back on his bed. How the hell was he going to meet her when he was still the lightweight waif he’d always been? She’d recognize him—unless that was putting too much emphasis on the impression he’d left over a decade ago. Still, he knew enough about women to know that his appearance was lacking, especially in the light of her beauty.

Steve was doing the best he could. Monday was the appointment with the stylist, but new attire and a fresh haircut wouldn’t be enough to transform him from geek to god.

He glanced down at his shirt. It had the binomial theorem printed on it. Dear lord, he was a mess.

Chapter Six

Anticipation

Asher decided it was time to see Scarlet. However, he still wasn’t ready for her to
see
him. He’d laid out a fair plan and the truth was she would either go for it or tell him to get lost.

He didn’t want to end their relationship, but he had nothing if he didn’t maintain control. After further research, and compiling an ongoing list of traits he hoped to portray, an idea took shape.

First, he always said goodbye before she had the chance. This added to the mystique and left her curious. When they spoke it was according to his decision. Telling her when to expect him stimulated anticipation. Anticipation was one element her letter claimed she was lacking in her day-to-day life.

So far, she hadn’t objected to any of his stipulations. On the contrary, she seemed to get a thrill from the formal way they interacted under his direction.

When he spoke, he always kept his voice low and even as if he were softly speaking in an ancient language that required her full attention. It was quite different from the way he casually spoke among friends. But he always had her attention.

Scarlet wasn’t the only one benefiting from their relationship. Asher was discovering sides to himself he’d never anticipated, sides he truly enjoyed. Every interaction boosted his confidence. He was clearly being stimulated by their relationship as much as her.

He gave her his undivided attention and she reciprocated, hanging on his every word. It was euphoric having the woman he spent the first half of his life idolizing suddenly under an enchanted spell. But what was most enchanting was that she honestly seemed interested in him. Sometimes he even made her laugh, not at him, but with him.

Prior to this, he didn’t have spells. He didn’t have moves. And he certainly didn’t have mojo. But all of these things, he discovered, were teachable and he was aptly learning how to play a game that always intimidated him—a game that now provoked darker yearnings for tendencies he never considered unearthing or even knew existed within his psyche.

If they were to meet, it had to be on his terms. Monday, he contacted his realtor about a property just outside of the city. It was important they had a secluded place to get acquainted that was within reasonable driving distance.

The mansion wasn’t necessarily his style, being he favored more simplistic ergonomic designs with clean lines and functional layouts. However, it had potential.

Boasting four floors, a dozen bedrooms and two towers, the old stone house could definitely be an asset at some stage of his life. The windows were original, complete with metal glasswork and custom made hardware. It was drafty, but had a plethora of working fireplaces.

The white elephant had been on the market for years, and the realtor was more than eager to answer questions about the property. In the end, Asher signed the deed for a steal. He could have simply taken her to dinner, but that wasn’t how he operated. Besides, he had other conditions that needed to be met.

Once the house was his, the place was overflowing with contractors. He had a very small window of opportunity to get things accomplished if this was where their first meeting would be, so Asher used every resource at his disposal to get the job done as quickly as possible.

A maid service scoured the mansion from attic to basement. Chimney sweeps cleaned every vent and inspected every flue. Wood was delivered and stacked neatly by each hearth. An interior designer named Sven, recommended by his stylist, was responsible for furnishing the entry, ballroom, and lower bathrooms.

The other rooms were of no concern. Should they need them, he’d make arrangements to have them dressed appropriately. For now, they had a space to use. What started less than two weeks ago now seemed a firm investment. He wasn’t sure what would come of his time with Scarlet, but he’d basically purchased the mansion for one purpose—her. His friends were convinced he’d lost his mind.

While he’d been working on the house, he remained in contact with her, but careful not to let his control slip. She didn’t ask him out again and he wondered if she was embarrassed because he’d said no the first time. He didn’t want his response to discourage her, so he reassured her they would meet soon. This seemed to please her.

As he pulled into the rounded driveway of the mansion, he grimaced at the work still needing to be done. The flowerbeds were horrendously overgrown and in serious need of some new shrubberies, but this wasn’t the time of year to plant. Reaching in his pocket, he removed his key, and took the ten steps to the entrance.

Two double doors stood the height of two men. A truck pulled in behind his car and he waved at Bruce, the contractor. As his key clicked in the lock the door let out an ominous howl.

“Mr. Roan,
”
Bruce greeted as he climbed the porch, his large build filling out his denim shirt.

“Hi, Bruce. Call me Ash.
”
The contractor nodded and Asher gave the knob another turn, frowning at the whining hinges. “Can something be done about this squeaking?”

Bruce produced a clipboard from under his arm. “That’s why I’m here. We’ll do a walkthrough and I’ll make note of all your concerns. When we’re done inspecting the grounds, I’ll send out my guys with a prioritized list.”

Asher nodded, pleased with his sense of urgency to get the mansion up and running as soon as possible. “Eventually I’ll need a landscaper, but that can wait until the weather breaks.”

“I have a few contacts I can recommend.”

They entered the foyer. The fireplaces were unlit so there was a chill to the open space. There were two wingback chairs and a small table at the foot of the twin staircases. The floors were polished and he was pleased with the progress his staff had made.

“I’d like to order a water cooler. I’d also like a fridge brought in.”

“For the service kitchen or the master kitchen, sir?”

“Neither. I want it right here in the foyer for now. I assume you’ll have to fiddle with the electric. The fridge will be an insulated cabinet with a humidifier used for wine. Will you need to see the model?
”
Money came with eccentricity outsiders tended to easily accept.

“It should have the same standard wiring requirements. I’ll check with the supplier once you have a model picked.”

They entered the ballroom. Asher smiled nervously as Bruce’s eyebrow lifted at the sight of a massive four-poster bed in the center. Grand fireplaces, tall enough to fit five men, anchored two of the four walls.

“Both fireplaces passed inspection?
”
He asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Another seating area filled the empty space. A tall armoire stood against the far wall. He’d be placing necessities there. Taking a moment for himself, he approached the bed.

The coverlet was lush, nothing like the one on his bed at home. He’d purchased new furniture when he bought his house, but his home was filled with personal touches and items his mother had suggested. He never gave much thought to beauty, always putting comfort first, but this was definitely a stunning bed.

His throat tightened at the possibilities. Scarlet Farrow might someday rest here.

The inspection continued for over an hour. As the contractor pulled away, he held a list of last minute details needing to be addressed. Asher settled into a chair in the ballroom, his stomach tight, and his breathing restricted.

He was actually doing this.

Once the restoration of the old home was underway, he’d found himself distracted. Things had moved quickly and in that sudden moment of silence, where all details seemed complete, reality sank in for the first time.

If she agreed to see him—a big
if
—she would come here and they’d start the second phase of their relationship. His mind drifted over his experiences with women, voiding out every horrible encounter from his earlier years and remembering those rushed and surprising moments of his adulthood.

There had been his first, a young woman by the name of Crystal. It was at her house and no matter how much she’d tried to convince Asher her feelings were sincere, the disappointment in her eyes had proved he was a regretful trade off for the money he possessed.

After Crystal he’d become a bit more guarded. From time to time he’d invited a curious female back to his hotel room while on business trips. Suits worn for meetings usually disguised his unimpressive body more than street clothes. They were more generic, making it easier to speak to strangers.

All in all, there had been three women. He’d like to think the last was the least embarrassing. But nothing took away the nervousness he always experienced while dealing with the opposite sex. How would he ever deal with Scarlet?

There was so much emphasis tied to her. She epitomized his shortcomings and was a bank of painful memories, yet she also represented his greatest desires. The pressure to perform with other women was nothing in regards to her.

Breathing in a deep, calming breath, he forced himself to relax. So long as he continued with the pattern they’d started, everything would work out. Who knew how intimate they’d become?

His objective was to show her everything she’d wanted—be everything she needed—if that was at all possible, he’d be more surprised than anyone. His intentions were blurred. She clearly had something invested in them, leaving her vulnerable in some immeasurable way. If she proved to be the girl he hated, he wouldn’t hesitate to vanish. But deep down he was strongly starting to hope she’d prove to be the girl he loved.

That was the terrifying truth he’d yet to share with his friends. God forbid she scorn him again. Keeping his evolving emotions to himself would ensure any pain would remain private as well.

Swallowing hard, he glanced one last time around the room. He could do this. He just had to keep his calm and not lose his head. Hopefully, all his careful planning would aid him when it came time to encounter her face to face. His greatest undoing rested in those enchanting eyes. He needed to make sure she saw something in him before she actually saw him.

****

“Tell me about a time you were proud of yourself.”

Scarlet savored the rush of excitement that filled her as she settled onto her bed and welcomed the long awaited sound of his voice. Their nightly conversations had become something she looked forward to, anticipated with intoxicating excitement, and when they finally started she became drunk with a sort of steady euphoria.

Her voice was low and relaxed. “Hmm
…
I’d have to think about that one.”

“Are there not a lot of proud moments in your life?”

“No, there are. I could tell you the generic ones, graduation, honor roll, buying my house, but I don’t think that’s what you’re after.”

“Correct.”

She sighed, her mind drifting over a flow of pleasant memories as she tried to select the perfect one to share. “I have it.”

“Tell me.”

She swallowed. “I teach sixth grade and a lot of my kids are considered remedial. At this point, they’ve unfortunately been labeled, not just in their paperwork, but by their peers, and even some of the faculty. There was this one student a few years back. His name was Justin.

“He wasn’t a bad kid, but he always seemed to find himself right in the middle of trouble and, because he was tall and broody, a lot of times he was blamed for things he didn’t orchestrate. After a while his attitude deteriorated, because even when he made the right choices, he somehow always had to answer for everyone else’s misbehavior.”

Mr. Stone let her set the background for her anecdote and patiently waited for her to make her point. She loved the rhythm of their discussions. It was different from the way most people conversed, always racing to assume the moral of a story before the narrator had the chance to deliver. Their slow paced dialogue was pleasantly refreshing.

“When Justin was in my class, he started flunking. His answers were there, but so outrageous I knew he wasn’t even trying. I spoke to my team about my concerns. Justin was a bright kid and he shouldn’t have been struggling with the material to that degree. None of my team teachers seemed to care, assuming it was expected from such a kid. I knew if I was going to get to the bottom of his behavior I had to do it myself.