2. CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWO
M ICAH
Athena is on the move again.
“Athena” is what I’m calling the girl in the golden mask that covered nearly her entire face except for red luscious lips that looked like they would bounce back if I bit. Her brown locks flow in waves down to somewhere around her midback, and I think she’ll have probably been better off arranging it at the top of her head into some kind of bun. That way it can show off the long line of her neck.
And there would be nothing blocking that nice deep décolletage.
My body hardens as my eyes take it in once more.
The woman’s body is all soft curves and the black dress she wears highlights every single bend, from the swelled chest, to the dip of her waist, flaring back out to her hips and down her long legs. She’s not all that tall, probably a bit taller than average, but somehow her long limbs make her seem even taller.
They also make me imagine all sorts of dirty things, like those legs wrapping around my waist as I pumped into her. I’ve been watching her, thinking about it for most of the night.
And that was before she’d pulled that stunt.
Now, hunger is an urgent beat in my gut.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, son,” the warning voice of Frank Tudor interrupts my observation.
“Only about half the time,” I quip.
“I’m referring to this hotel that your father and I have put in your hands. I suspect that maybe you’re not seeing the bigger picture here.” He gestures around the room at the people currently getting drunk and dancing around the ballrooms. At each side, servers stand with more champagne and a couple of security officers guard the door. Even they’re dressed in some kind of Victorian-era clothing. It adds to the theme and probably stokes the air of wonder in the room.
All the guests appear relaxed and very pleased with themselves, likely because they feel special to be invited to such a historic occasion: the reopening of a once-dead hotel that faced enough tragedies to be called haunted, but also reportedly hid many treasures. Discovery of those treasures is now frequently in the headlines of many major news stations. I’m waiting for one guest in particular, the one who can get this damn noose of a hotel off my neck, but he’s not here yet.
“This is only the beginning, son,” Frank says, stressing the words and laying his other hand on my shoulder as though trying to force the gravity of it on me. “This event was restricted to VIPs only, but I’ve gotten lots of interest for the true opening of the hotel. The waitlist for that event is hundreds of names long. That one is going to be grander, and better. It will make the news again. The Grand Pearl Hotel is on the trend to surpass even its former glory.”
“I know.” Part of the reason for the manic interest in this hotel is because of the discovery of a Pink Pearl. It’s a gem so rare that most people didn’t even believe in its existence. There is only one in the entire world, located at this hotel, and it’s why the Grand Pearl Hotel is often called the Pink Hotel.
There’s also apparently a bunch of lore surrounding the Pearl, linking back to two lovers who disappeared from the hotel on the night the Pink Pearl initially went missing. One of the lovers, Madam Something-or-Other, owned a diary that somehow fell into the hands of Declan’s precocious daughter, Amelia.
According to Amelia, Madam Something was a socialite who ended up tangling with jewel thieves that were plotting to steal the Pink Pearl. Stuff happened, she started a relationship with one of them, her original fiancé died and yada yada, the Pink Pearl went missing. I don’t really care enough to remember the fine details. What’s truly amazing is that Amelia and Emma put together hints from that story in order to figure out that there was a pearl-smuggling operation happening right under everyone’s nose.
That’s right, a thirteen-year-old and a young bartender cracked a case wide open. The cops in Laketown ought to be ashamed of themselves.
In any case, discovery of the Pink Pearl came after news of thieves and pearl smugglers stealing rare rainbow pearls from the lakes around Laketown.
All that scandal has catapulted this tiny town into prominence and suddenly tourists are flocking in, everyone wanting to see the famed Pink Pearl or get a rainbow pearl for themselves.
Declan has the Pink Pearl in his possession but he has kept it under wraps until today when it will be viewed at the end of the event.
Of course, as part owner of the Pink Hotel, I’ve already seen the gem a few times and still don’t get the hype.
“We’re on track to make millions of dollars of profit from this investment in just the first year,” Frank continues with that tone he often dons when he’s in a lecturing mood. Stern and increasingly annoyed. “This is going to be the hotel of the decade.”
“I have no doubt,” I say, and even with the half mask, I can see him frown at my glibness. If nothing else, thanks to Declan’s aggressive renovation and marketing, the Pink Hotel will likely be a success story.
“So then why are you selling your shares to Ben DuPont?”
My eyes flash open as I stare at him. “How did you…?”
“I know everything.” The man is good at hiding his expression, but I get the feeling I’ve disappointed him. He probably thinks I’m dumb for throwing away this opportunity, and maybe I am.
But I’m still going to do it.
I never wanted to be involved with this hotel in the first place.
I told my father as much a few months ago, when he mentioned that he and Frank Tudor had jointly bought the hotel for their sons to run. A dilapidated hotel in a small town seemed like a dumb investment to me, but I have to admit that the story of the hotel has given it an edge and it’s gearing to be a very profitable venture. In just a few months, Declan and his real estate company have renovated the hotel from a crumbling shell of itself to a shining beacon that still manages to maintain its historic flair while having a modern appeal.
While I can understand and appreciate the fact that the Pink Hotel has the potential for expansive growth, I have no intention of being a part of that. For starters, I don’t know the first thing about running a hotel and don’t care to learn. Plus, as part owner, I’m supposed to stay to facilitate the opening of the hotel and that would mean that I would be trapped in Laketown for at least a few months. As charming as it is, Laketown isn’t a place I can stand for that long. They have three, maybe four gas stations total, and one road out of town. There’s not a single country club, or yacht club, or a bar that’s not a dive bar. Apart from the Pink Hotel, the only acceptable lodging is the Marriott. There’s nothing here to do at all.
I would lose my mind in under a week.
And then there’s the most important reason I want to sell my shares in the Pink Hotel.
Because with that money, I can finally start up my new business.
My family is worth billions, so I’m typically not hurting for cash. The problem is that most of the money is controlled by my father who has been diligently monitoring my expenses in an attempt to reestablish his authority over me. When he catches wind of the fact that I want to start a new company, he’s going to be pissed.
Another one? I can hear his sneer now, as well as his exasperation. How many businesses do you have to try and fail before you learn that you just don’t have the knack for it?
Even just the thought of his admonition gets me irritated. Especially since he’s wrong. Technically, only half of my attempted businesses have failed. The others were successful at first and only failed after I lost interest, sold them, and/or deliberately sabotaged them.
But this new business venture is different. It’ll be a success; I can feel it. But convincing my father of that will be impossible, which is why I’m going behind his back to sell my hotel shares for starting capital.
“So you found out,” I say, annoyed as my eyes find Athena again. She’s resting against a wall, observing once more. I wonder if she knows she looks like a goddess amongst mortals.
“I did. Your father isn’t going to like this.”
The mention of my father has me stiffening as much as I try to hide it. Thankfully, there’s a mask shielding my expression. “What Daddy doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Technically, due to the nature of the contract, Frank Tudor and my dad are the majority stakeholders, with Declan and I being the minority. As such there are certain limitations on us selling our shares to other entities, but DuPont knew a way around it.
Frank and Dad’s idea, I know, is for both Declan and me to prove ourselves in order to eventually inherit our parents’ shares and be in full control of the Pink Hotel. Declan already did his part by renovating the hotel, much to my annoyance. I wanted him to help me sabotage our parents’ deal by obstructing the rebuilding efforts, and I initially thought it would be easy enough to get him on board. After all, Declan also thought the purchase of the Pink Hotel was stupid and he didn’t want to stay in Laketown either.
But then he had to go and fall in love with a local and that sent all my plans to shit.
As happy as I am for Declan and his future bride, his decision to go along with our dads’ plot has forced me into a difficult position.
My father already told me that it’s my turn to prove myself by handling the reopening of the hotel. Except I refuse. I have no interest in running this hotel or being my father’s errand boy. So I’m selling my shares. Declan already agreed to buy half, and now the other half is going to Ben. For some reason, Frank eyes me carefully. With black eyes set into the narrow eye holes of a black mask, he looks very menacing and I’m almost intimidated. Except that I’ve received similar glares from my father, and I’ve gotten too used to them growing up.
Frank is an interesting man. While not as strict as my father, he’s not exactly a bed of roses either. Declan is a workaholic and since he was raised solely by his father, I can only blame Frank for that.
And as an old family friend, Frank occasionally likes to pretend to be my father too. Which is why he’s here looking at me in disappointment. “Well, you know I’ll have to tell your father.”
“Do what you need to do.” I try to sound casual about it, even as bitterness curdles in my gut. I’m sure Frank’s interference is the reason why DuPont didn’t show up today despite us pretty much finalizing everything over the phone. Damn it.
There goes the last man in New York City willing and powerful enough to go against my father. Most of the other men in power are firmly within my father’s circle of friends. And the only other person I can think of who has the kind of “fuck you” money and influence to go up against Marcus Landing, is an old acquaintance from school, Toby Leviathan. Problem is, he’s a recluse who is extremely hard to reach, and even harder to convince.
“I’m sorry, Micah. But I just can’t watch someone I care about throw money away.”
“Must be why you’re the richest sixty-year-old in America.”
He snorts. “Second richest, thanks to your father’s recent acquisition.”
“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” My father has an eye for taking failing businesses and turning them profitable and his most recent acquisition just catapulted to a billion-dollar value. “But if it makes you feel better, you look younger and better than he does.”
Frank snorts.
“Excuse me,” I say and he waves me off as I start walking away. Athena is finally alone and this is my chance. Since my night is already ruined, business-wise, I might as well have some fun. I don’t miss the fact that she, like many other women at this party, has been sending looks my way all night. That’s pretty normal for me. I’m a good-looking guy if I do say so myself and get looks pretty much anywhere I go.
But currently, Athena is the only woman here who caught my attention from the moment she walked in with that damn curve-hugging dress.
“Who is that?” I asked Declan the second she arrived with a masked woman I instantly recognized as Emma.
Declan followed my gaze and shook his head.
“That is not for you,” was all he said sternly, and that piqued my curiosity even more.
Being with a woman like that would be enjoyable enough. But messing with Declan while I’m at it would be a nice bonus too.
So I began watching Athena, keeping tabs on her movement in between my conversations. At one point, Emma left her to go to Declan but Athena didn’t seem to mind. She immediately drifted to a group of women, joining their conversation with little effort. She was like a chameleon, purposefully fitting herself into the fold and unconsciously mimicking the stance of the women beside her. Even with the mask, I saw her eyes moving over them, her lips curving as though she could read them like a book and was laughing silently at them.
Just like she’s doing now from her position against the wall.
She fascinates me. I wonder if she can read me. I wonder what she’ll see.
She seems comfortable alone, but I find myself moving to her anyway. She doesn’t look at me when I arrive, merely takes another sip of her drink.
“I have a question to ask,” I start and even though she still doesn’t look at me, I sense her pulse quickening, her breaths coming slightly faster. She’s not as unaffected as she’s pretending to be.
“A question?” Her voice is soft and unassuming, with a strange breathless quality to it that doesn’t feel rehearsed. I’d love to hear that voice whispering in my ear as I thrust into her.
Easy, Micah. Patience. “Yeah. Why the mask?”
She turns to me then and, behind the mask, I notice that her eyes are golden brown with dark lashes. I want to melt in them. She smells delicious too, a subtle sweet scent that I’ve never smelled before.
I’m so busy taking her in, I forget all about the question I asked until she answers it.
“It’s a masquerade ball,” she says, in a tone that implies that I might be an idiot.
I smile. “I didn’t ask why you were wearing a mask, just why you chose this one. If you haven’t noticed, most of the other women in the room have a half mask that at least gives some hints as to who they are. But yours does not. Which tells me that either you’re someone who wants to hide or you’re trying very hard to be seen as mysterious.”
She blinks slowly.
“Or I could just be frightfully ugly,” she says. “The type of ugly that scares children and makes small animals distinctly uncomfortable.”
“Like the Phantom of the Opera?”
“That’s who I’m channeling. Did you consider that option?”
A smile dances at the corner of her lips and I want to kiss them even more than before. “I guess I didn’t.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised.” She turns away.
“And that’s supposed to mean?”
“Just that you strike me as the kind of man who wouldn’t consider talking to anyone he thinks might be unattractive.”
“And that’s your way of saying I’m a shallow asshole.”
“Shallow? Maybe. Asshole is a matter of perspective. I don’t know you enough to call you an asshole.” A smile finally rocks her lips. “Although one of the ladies I was talking to seemed to imply that might be the case.”
“Which lady?”
“Somehow I doubt you’d remember her even if I told you.”
“And now I’m a manwhore too.”
“Do you deny it?” She’s full-on amused now, seemingly having fun with this conversation. And I’m having fun too, even if it’s at the expense of my reputation.
“Only in the sense that I don’t require money for my services.”
It takes her a moment to get the joke and she rolls her eyes. “Maybe you’re just not good enough to get paid.”
“Oh, I doubt your friend told you that,” he says. “She wouldn’t be calling me an asshole if I wasn’t.”
That finally gets a laugh out of her, a throaty laugh that makes hunger rush through me. I laugh too, feeling elated and a little buzzed.
It’s a good day, all things considered. I sold my hotel shares and found an intriguing woman to entertain me for the night. The only thing that would make it better is to find out what’s under that mask.
And under that dress.
“What would you say if I told you that I’m not half the shallow asshole you think I am?”
“I would be disappointed.” Her response shocks me as she smirks. “I happen to exclusively fuck shallow assholes.”
I gape at her for a second, unable to believe the words that left her mouth. And then my mouth moves again, faster than my brain.
“Well then consider me at your service.”
She stares at me and I stare back, eyeing her lips. I lean in and whisper, “Just be careful not to fall in love with me.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she responds breathily. “There’s absolutely no danger of that happening.”
Being a part-owner of the Pink Hotel has its perks. For one, it means that I have exclusive access to the newly renovated rooms upstairs.
As I take Athena up the vintage winding staircase and down the velvet-encased hallway, anticipation thrums through me as her small hands grip mine.
We barely get the door for one of the rooms open and closed before she kisses me.
I’m still for a second as her tongue teases the seam of my lips sucking my lower lip in hers. Her hand goes to the back of my neck before traveling into my hair and her body is flush against mine.
Fuck.
She kisses like pure sin.
Our masks are knocked askew as I kiss her back roughly, opening my mouth so her tongue can dance with mine. She tastes like champagne and her supple lips move against mine with a keen desperation that only stokes my desire more.
Her hands travel down my back to grip my ass and I groan.
But she’s going too fast. At this rate, it’ll be over before it begins.
I wrap my hand around her neck ready to dislodge her lips from mine, when I feel her pulse quicken her body melting at the move.
Hmm. Submissive tendencies. Interesting.
Taking note of that exciting piece of information, I tuck it away to use later.
I pull back to tell her that we need to slow down, but when I do, I notice that her mask is still halfway on her face.
I tear it off needing to know what’s beneath. Once her face is revealed though, I start in shock.
“Carly.” The word whispers into the air as her dusky gaze leans forward.
“Yes, Micah,” she responds, reaching up to pull off my mask. “It’s me.”
And then as she kisses me again, all my hesitation due to her identity falls away.