Chapter 5
Chapter Five
MASON
I run a hand over my slick hair, feeling its stiffness from the gel I’d liberally applied. The hairdo goes with the look I’m going for, and it sure as hell helped keep my true identity from Tara.
And thank God that Jerry didn’t say anything about me suddenly speaking in a lower tone. He probably thought it was part of my authoritative act towards the drunken bastard.
I don’t know if Tara would still remember my normal voice, but I certainly haven’t forgotten what she sounds like. I’d have to be mindful of my voice around her.
I casually patrol the boat, casting glances at the goings-on among the passengers in mighty good spirits. I expect my job to be easier tonight compared to last year, but I’m still rattled.
I still can’t believe that Tara Davies is on this boat. And I swear she flirted with me.
Romeo and Juliet. How synchronistic that she’s using her middle name here, where I’m known by a different name.
I only learned that my legal first name was Romeo after I moved to Sydney. Mum said that when they were choosing a name for me as a baby, my dad insisted that even though my birth certificate could show Romeo, no one could call me that for as long as he was alive. That was the compromise they made for a name my mother loved so much, but disliked by my father with a passion.
So, they never told anyone, including me, that my first name was Romeo, apart from relevant school personnel who saw my birth certificate. They were all requested by my parents to call me Mason, and that was the name I grew up with.
Then Mum told me about my true first name on the day I arrived here in Sydney. My father had already left us for one of his mistresses, so she said I was free to use Romeo if I wanted to.
And I did want to. New life, new name, I thought. Plus, not being called Mason by new friends put an extra distance between the new me and my past life in my hometown. No one there wanted to know me after what I’d done to Tara. And I don’t blame them.
A woman’s hand on my chest stops me in my tracks. “Hello, loverboy.” She purrs. Literally. The tight-fitting cat costume she’s wearing suits her well.
“Hi,” I answer.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink with me.”
“I’d love to, sweetheart. But it’s a no for now.”
She pouts. “Later, then?”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say to cushion the rejection.
“My name’s Cathy. What’s yours?”
“Romeo.”
“Oh!” She places both palms against her heart. “Romeo, Romeo! Fill me up before the night ends, Romeo.”
I have to chuckle at that.
“Remember what I look like and find me later, okay?” She blows me a kiss.
I pretend to catch it and resume my discreet patrolling. She won’t be the last person to try to chat me up tonight, but I know how to handle them. I’ve been doing events such as this for over three years now. Besides, not to toot my own horn, but I get asked out by women all the time. I don’t need to jeopardise my business reputation to get dates.
Speaking of dates…
Is Tara being propositioned right now? I won’t be surprised. Her gown highlights all her gorgeous curves. Even though her outfit is nowhere near as revealing as the dresses of most of the women on this boat, she’s way too sexy not to be noticed.
I was bowled over when I saw her at Wharf 8 earlier. If Odette hadn’t pulled me away, I would have continued gaping at her, drooling. The Tara I fell for in high school was a very pretty girl. This older Tara? She’s a twenty out of ten. Too bad she still hates me.
I find myself making my way back to where I last saw her. Maybe I shouldn’t have left her alone. She’s probably not prepared for the forwardness of some people in this group, a behaviour expected—and welcomed—by most of the members. I’m sure she can take care of herself, but I noticed how shocked she was when I told her this was the Masks On boat.
I see her in a corner, shaking her head and smiling apologetically at a man dressed in a white tuxedo and wearing a white mask. He seems to be cajoling her, rubbing her arm, but she shakes her head more emphatically.
I’m ready to butt in, but the man decides to leave. Good.
Guilt nags me that I’d left her to her own devices. She has to be uncomfortable in this environment. But I don’t think she’d want me to “rescue” her. Tara has always been capable and confident.
Besides, I shouldn’t be around her too much. What if she recognises me? She’ll hate me even more, knowing I deceived her again by not revealing who I am. I just didn’t want her to leave the boat and find another way to get to the Dome.
And, yes, I chickened out.
Can’t say I blame her for still being angry at me after more than a decade. My own shame still washes over me, even though I’ve learned to live with it.
Two other guys approach Tara, and she visibly exhales her frustration. How many times has she been propositioned since I left her alone?
I step in. “Hey—” I pause. Fuck, I almost called her Tara. I have to remember she’s Juliet tonight.
“Juliet,” I say, offering her my hand. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Romeo!” She grabs my hand, her smile showing her relief at seeing me. “I was looking for you, too!”
“Romeo and Juliet?” asks one of the men with a laugh. “I guess we won’t win here,” he tells his buddy.
“Guess not. Well, enjoy, lovers,” the other man says as they walk away.
“Hi.” I release Tara’s hand and sit next to her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. They go away when I say no. It’s just that…it’s been constant.” She sighs.
“Unfortunately, you can expect more people to chat you up in the next half hour if you just sit here by yourself, looking amazing.”
A sweet smile appears on her face. “You’re pretty popular yourself. I saw a woman in a catsuit caress your chest and blow you a kiss.”
My brows lift. Was she watching me?
“Do you get to participate?” she asks casually. “I bet you’ve been tempted. I mean, I look around, and I’m pretty tempted myself. But I didn’t pay, so…” She shrugs.
My mouth drops open, and my heart is racing in my chest. It feels wrong to have this conversation because she has no idea who I am, but I can’t help asking, “You want to have anonymous sex tonight?”
“I—” Her gaze flicks to something behind me. “Hey, your friend, the cat woman, is coming.”
Seriously? What bad timing.
I swivel my head, and Cathy stops in front of me. I’m annoyed, but I smile at her.
“Still a maybe?” she asks with a pout before throwing a glare at Tara.
“Yeah,” I answer, injecting some regret in my tone. It’s better to sound appeasing than to unwittingly create a dramatic situation. Who knows what Cathy is like?
“Okay,” Cathy says with a huff as she walks away.
I refocus on Tara, keen to get our conversation back on track. “So…” I start.
“Your wife or girlfriend won’t ever find out, would she?” Tara asks, gazing at me intently.
The unexpected question catches me off guard. Does she want to have a one-night stand with me? Me ? Or did I just misinterpret that question?
Blood rushes to my groin, the desire immediately so strong that it surprises me. But my conscience comes to the fore, yelling at me.
I need to nip this in the bud before it gets out of hand. She doesn’t know I’m Mason Abril, for heaven’s sake!
I push through the temptation and give her a small smile. “Juliet, I find you exceptionally attractive. Truly. But I can’t sleep with you. I have a policy not to mix business with pleasure. And it doesn’t have anything to do with my wife or girlfriend because I don’t have one.”
Tara seems to search my eyes, and then her lips curve up into a sweet grin that I remember so well. “You’re a good man, Romeo. Why are you still single? You must have women falling all over themselves to date you.”
I blink, chuffed at her compliment. “I haven’t found the right person. I have a good dating life, but nothing serious.”
Tara nods as if she approves. “I like that you didn’t take advantage of the situation and remained professional. I admire that kind of integrity.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. If only she knows…
Then something occurs to me. “If I had said yes, what would have happened?”
She giggles. “I haven’t exactly propositioned you, have I? When I asked if your partner won’t find out, I meant you and Cat Woman.”
My jaw drops. I’m appalled. “Wow, I’m so sorry. I totally misinterpreted that, didn’t I?
Tara pats my arm. “Don’t be sorry. I like that you showed your true colours. I’m glad I’m sitting here at a Masks On event with a very decent man.”
Well, how the hell do I respond to that? Thank God she never has to know who this Romeo really is.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she continues. “I find you very attractive, too. I’m partial to honest men, so even though you rejected me, I’m impressed. My friends and I talked about me having a one-night stand this weekend. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But you did make me consider giving myself a hall pass.”
Again, I’m stunned. She really wants to have sex with me?
Tara chuckles. “I’m guessing this stare you’re giving me is one of shock. Look, honesty begets honesty. I’m just enjoying having this conversation with you in this kind of environment. I come from a small town, and I live a sheltered life,” she says with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Sheltered?” How can a woman running for mayor be sheltered?
“I mean, from sexual activities like this.” She sweeps an arm at the different couples kissing and touching each other.
My curiosity pierces through the stratosphere. I was the one who took Tara’s virginity, and there was a time when I rejoiced at the thought that I’d be her one and only sexual partner for the rest of her life. I stuffed up that chance when I let myself be blackmailed, and now I’m dying to know what she’s trying to say. “What exactly do you mean by being sheltered from sexual activities?”
“I’m not a virgin, but…” She stares at me for a long moment, frowning in thought, before exhaling heavily. “I never thought I’d be so open to a total stranger. It must be the anonymity afforded by our masks. There’s safety and freedom to it,” she adds in a wistful tone.
My breath catches. I’m thankful for the anonymity, too. I never thought I’d have an intimate conversation like this again with Tara.
And she thinks I’m a decent, honest man.
I ignore the guilt poking at my chest. No way can I come clean now. We’ve crossed a line with this chat, and we can’t go back. It’ll only hurt her even more if she learns who she’s talking to.
“I’ve only ever been with two guys,” Tara says rather regretfully. “I loved sex with my first boyfriend, but let’s not talk about him.”
My heart bangs hard in my chest.
“With my second ex, sex wasn’t as amazing…” Her blush is obvious as she furtively stares at the couple across from us. The man’s hand is clearly under his companion’s skirt as they talk, her legs wide apart.
“Uh-huh,” I say dumbly, not interested in the other couple. I’m eager to hear more from Tara.
“I’ve been on a dry spell for four years now,” she says with a laugh.
I frown. “I’m surprised by that. I mean, someone as pretty as you would have plenty of guys tripping all over themselves to date you.”
Tara sends me a close-mouthed smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But I don’t date much. I’m very picky because I didn’t have a great start to dating.”
I take a sharp intake of breath. I’m not sure I want to hear the rest of what she has to say.
To my dismay, she continues. “My first boyfriend broke my heart when I was eighteen. I was crazy about him, but…I was a very bad reader of people at the time. I thought he was a good guy.” She paused, looking down at the ground. “He humiliated me in front of a lot of people, and that’s what made me very picky when it comes to men. I know that sounds dramatic, but in my defence, I had an idealistic view of love at that age, and that was shattered. It took me a long time to recover from it. A few years later, I met my second boyfriend. I wasn’t really in love with him. I guess I still didn’t want to be vulnerable again.”
I can only stare for a long moment, guilt swamping me as if I’d done that terrible thing just a minute ago. “I’m so sorry,” I croak. “Your first boyfriend should be very ashamed of himself.” And I am.
“Thanks. And then there’s my career. Please don’t ask me what it is. Let’s just say that I have a high profile in my community, and I need to keep proving that my relatively young age is not a detriment to my job. So, I’ve been ensuring that I don’t look like having too much fun because I don’t want people thinking I’m not ready for more responsibilities.”
“Surely age doesn’t matter as long as you’re good at what you do.”
“I know, right? Unfortunately, even though I have great support, my enemies have a huge financial backing. It’s not easy to fight them, especially when they’re determined to win by hook or by crook.”
“That sucks.” I’m lost for words. I had no idea how constrained Tara has been feeling with her career. I choose my next words carefully. “Can you make changes so that you don’t have to feel uncomfortable being yourself?”
Her brows furrow, and she’s silent for a while. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable being myself, but yes, I guess there’s that element of not wanting to show the public everything about me. I’m currently in the middle of...a stoush, shall we say, with my enemy. He would twist things just so he could come out on top.”
“He sounds like a piece of work.”
“He is. I was actually supposed to join my best friend in her bachelorette party at the Wild Boys showboat. But I heard that he sent spies to record me letting my hair down with strippers and use it against me.”
“What?! That’s insane!” Of course, I already knew that, but my outrage is real.
“There are some dirty people in my chosen field,” she laments.
“And not the fun kind of dirty,” I say dryly.
Tara chuckles. “Unfortunately, not. But…you know what I just realised?”
“What?”
“That I really don’t want life to just pass me by without enjoying some things?—”
“Hello, beautiful people!” a woman interrupts. She’s in a tight-fitting burlesque outfit, and the man with her is in a sleeveless blue suit.
“Hi,” I greet in a friendly tone. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” says the man. “You two wanna join us?”
“Thanks, but we’re the one-on-one type,” I answer.
They both scrunch their noses. “Pity,” the woman declares, and they leave.
Tara leans closer to me. “Thanks for that,” she whispers. “Is it hard for you to say no?”
I chuckle. “Not at all. Discounting the fact that I won’t have sex with anyone on this boat, I’m not into group sex.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Tara’s face has gone beet red.
“Sure.”
“If we met outside of this boat, would you have considered a one-night stand with me?”
I smile. “I’d have been naked before you can say another word.”
She smiles shyly. “Thanks. I’m… uh… a little insecure when it comes to men. It’s nice to know you weren’t just letting me down gently like you did with Cat Woman.”
My heart pinches. Did she develop her insecurity because of what I did?
Tara throws her hands in the air. “God, what is it about you that makes me want to confess these things?”
“Like you said, it’s the anonymity,” I say with a laugh. If only she knows that I, too, feel that strong connection similar to the one we used to have.
“Yeah. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Now I get why people become members of groups such as Masks On. The only negative thing is, I imagine some people here feel safe enough to cheat on their partners because they can remain anonymous.”
“That’s what I thought at first until the owner told me that most members are anti-commitment, so they’re mostly single.”
Tara lifts her brows. “Hm. That makes sense?—”
The woman across from us suddenly lets out a cry, her mouth open wide in ecstasy, while her companion’s hand is furiously moving underneath her skirt.
Tara’s breath has become heavy, judging by the rise and fall of her chest, as she watches the couple. Then her gaze flicks to my face before looking away, biting her bottom lip as she lets out a soft, embarrassed chuckle.
God, she looks so damn adorable. The urge to kiss her is so strong that I have to remind myself that I’m Mason—the idiot who humiliated her and broke her heart. I’m not going to do that again, so I have to keep my hands off her, much as she’s giving me subtle signals.
“I should get back to my job.” I stand and take a deep breath. I’m reluctant to leave her by herself, though. “Hey, do you want to stay in a private room so no one else can chat you up? There’s a bedroom that’s off-limits to guests. It’s only used for emergencies.”
Tara grins. “Am I considered an emergency?”
“I heard you’re having a nasty migraine.”
She chuckles. “If it’s really okay, then yes, I’d appreciate it.”
“Come on.” As if my hand has a brain of its own, it reaches out for her. Before I can pull it back, she’s grasped it. Oh, well. Too late now.
With my heart beating like crazy at feeling Tara’s soft hand in mine, I lead her down a narrow set of stairs to the level below where the toilets, store rooms and a bedroom are located. I wait until the coast is clear before I unlock the door with a “Private. Staff Only” sign.
“Lock the door behind you,” I say, guiding her inside. “You can enjoy the views from the window. If someone from the crew asks why you’re here, tell them I allowed you in.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she murmurs.
I stare into her eyes, an incredible magnetic force I thought I’d never feel again wrapping itself around me. Well, come to think of it, Tara is not anyone else. She was the one who made me feel this way ten years ago.
Before I do anything stupid, I step back and close the door. I hear her lock it.
Maybe I’ll bring her a drink and some food.
Desire reignites in my veins at the thought of spending time alone with Tara in a room with a bed.
No. I should really just leave her alone.
I walk back up the stairs.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.